Page 39 of Brutal Union
"I know. But you're the woman who stood up to the Rosetti family. You survived them. You can survive this." My hands are covered in blood now, warm and slick, but I feel the baby starting to shift. "That's it. She's turning."
The room holds its breath as I work, manually manipulating the baby through Ana's belly and birth canal, techniques I learned but never thought I'd use. Each second stretches like hours. More blood. Too much blood. But the baby is moving, responding.
"Please," Ana whispers, her voice breaking. "Please save my baby."
"I'm saving you both," I promise, and mean it. These people might be killers, might be criminals, but right now they're just a family terrified of losing someone they love.
The baby girl slides into my hands with a cry that fills the room like a miracle. Perfect. Tiny. Alive.
"You did it," I breathe, my own voice shaking as I clear her airways quickly. "Ana, you did it. She's perfect."
The infant's wails are the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. Pink and angry and absolutely healthy despite her dramatic entrance. I clean her with the towels Sofia brought, checking her reflexes, counting fingers and toes. Then I place her on Ana's chest, skin to skin.
"My baby," Ana sobs, clutching the child while Dante wraps his arms around them both. His shoulders shake with silent tears I pretend not to see.
"She's beautiful," Eleanor whispers from the doorway, tears streaming down her face, her hand pressed to her heart.
Sofia approaches me slowly as I stand on shaking legs, my hands covered in blood that's already drying, cracking on my skin. She studies me with those sharp eyes that usually cut like knives.
"You did it," she says, and for once, there's no mockery in it. Just genuine warmth, real acceptance.
The sincerity in her voice breaks something in me, and my legs are suddenly not strong enough to bear my weight.
"I need to wash my hands," I manage, voice rough with emotion I refuse to examine too closely. "The placenta will follow soon, and…"
Marco appears at my elbow, guiding me to the kitchen sink. His hands cover mine under the warm water, helping wash away the blood while his family celebrates in the next room. The intimacy of the gesture, him caring for me after I cared for his family, makes my eyes burn with unshed tears.
"Alice is still sleeping upstairs," he murmurs against my ear, his breath making me shiver. "Maria's with her, watching over her."
"Good." I watch the pink water swirl down the drain, taking with it the evidence of what just happened. "That's good."
I catch my reflection in the window above the sink. Hair wild, dress stained, but something different in my eyes. I don't recognize myself. His reflection joins mine, dark and possessive behind me, and the contrast makes my breath catch.
"You've taken longer than your allocated hour." Marco's voice drops to that dangerous register that makes heat flood through me instantly. "You remember what you owe me."
I turn in his arms, finally meeting those dark eyes that have haunted my dreams for weeks. The hunger there makes my nipples peak against my bloody shirt.
"I got a little distracted," I say, waving a general hand toward the lounge room where Ana still lies with her baby.
"Every promise you made," he continues, backing me against the counter, caging me with his body. "Everything you swore you'd give me if I saved Alice. The bill comes due tonight."
My pulse pounds where his thumb presses against my throat, marking the spot he seems obsessed with. "I know."
"You did well with Ana." His praise sends satisfaction through me, and I want to hear it again. His other hand finds my waist, pulling me against him so I feel how hard he is, the thick length of him pressing against my belly through our clothes. "But principessa…" His lips brush my ear, making me shiver. "You still owe me everything."
The reminder of our bargain sends liquid heat straight to my core. I promised to stop fighting, to be his completely, to pay any price for Alice's freedom. Now she sleeps safely upstairs while Ana nurses her newborn daughter, and my debt to Marco Rosetti is about to be collected in full.
"Yes," I breathe, the word carrying all my surrender.
His smile is pure predator, pure dark promise. "Tommy's bringing the car around. Say goodbye to the family, Mrs.Rosetti. Your husband is taking you home."
The possessive way he says 'husband' makes my chest fill with heat. I've been fighting this for four weeks, but watching Eleanor's genuine happiness, seeing how Sofia accepted me, feeling the trust Dante placed in me… maybe surrendering to Marco isn't losing. Maybe it's choosing a different kind of victory.
The hunger in those dark eyes promises that everything changes once we reach the penthouse. Everything I've been fighting, everything I've been denying, everything I secretly crave comes due tonight.
And God help me, I can't wait to pay.
14 - Marco
