Page 117 of Masked Hearts

“But—”

“Do you understand me, Antonio?”

“Yes,” I snap.

“Good, now let’s let him rest,” Ambrose says, gesturing for the twins to leave.

“Ambrose,” I call him back, and he stops at the foot of my bed.

“Tell me the truth, was she involved in this?”

Ambrose sighs, looking at the floor before eventually meeting my eyes. “We don’t know. Kylian is adamant he has no idea where she is; her, Pierre, and her sister seem to have fallen off the grid. We’re thinking they set up the texts and call as a distraction for their escape.”

A million thoughts rush through my mind all in the space of a second.

“Where’s Mattia?”

“Wrapping up the last few things in Monaco.”

I look down at my hand as I twirl the wedding band on my left hand.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“I feel insane. I feel like everything I’ve ever known is wrong. Every atom my body has ever known feels wrong without her; it feels like I’m nothing without her. She completed me in a way I didn’t even know I was incomplete in the first place. I don’t want to believe that she could’ve done this.”

“I suggest you do. It’ll make the next few months a lot easier on you. Believing she hurt you instead of just being in a constant state of worry will let you start healing from all of this so you can put it behind you.”

“That’s just it. I don’t want to put this behind me, Ambrose,” I say exasperated.

He raises a brow at my sudden outburst.

“You told me it’s not about what happens, but how I handle it. And right now, I don’t want to handle it if it means it’ll be without her.”

“You asked me to tell you the truth, and I did. What you choose to believe is up to you,” he says as he pats the bed, turning to leave. “This is why I told you not to fall in love with her.”

Chapter forty-five

Antonio

“Yourinjuriesarehealingwell, I’m just worried about the ribs you broke.”

I sigh and flinch as pain shoots through me. The last four weeks have been absolute hell, just lying around doing nothing, allowing my ribs and the rest of my body enough time to heal.

“Have you been doing the breathing exercises I gave you?” Dr. Rossi asks.

“They hurt like a bitch.”

“So will losing your lung if you contract pneumonia from not doing them.” Dr. Rossi meets my eyes with a stern look.

“I’m less worried about my lung and more worried about my face. Can we really not do anything else about this bump that’s now a part of my nose?” I run a finger over the new bump on my nose.

“Since it’s not impacting your breathing, I suggest waiting another two weeks before assessing it for a rhinoplasty.”

“Can’t fix my ribs or my nose. What are we paying you for again?” I snap, meeting his eyes.

“You aren’t. This is a favour to Ambrose, and I’ll be happy to step away as long as you tell him you were the one who requested it.” Dr. Rossi packs up the last of his things before raising a brow.

I let out a clipped breath. “Just send me the prescription for my stupid pain meds.”