Page 55 of A Touch of Fate

It took more than an hour for me to fall asleep, but my sleep was fitful, and eventually, I woke up.

At first, I wasn’t sure why, but then I realized my nightgown was wet.

I froze. My first thought was that I had wet myself.

In the very beginning, after my accident, that had happened on occasion, but that was years ago.

I turned on the lights, and panic filled me.

I was bleeding. For several heartbeats, I couldn’t do anything but stare, filled with terror.

I touched my belly as my pulse raced in my veins.

I grabbed my phone and called Samuel. The phone rang several times before he finally picked up. “What’s wrong, Emma?”

His voice was rough, not slurred but definitely more drawn out than usual. My heart sank.

“I’m bleeding.”

“What? I’m coming up.”

I moved toward the edge of the bed, trying not to panic. With an anterior placenta like mine, bleeding wasn’t entirely uncommon. My doctor had warned me that this could happen.

Samuel staggered into the bedroom, his hair disheveled, his trousers and shirt wrinkled as if he’d slept on the floor. Remembering how I’d found him once at the beginning of our marriage, I knew this wasn’t completely unlikely.

Samuel came toward me, his eyes taking in my bloody nightgown. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” When he bent over me to pick me up, a wave of alcohol hit me. I scrunched up my nose. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m fine. I just had a glass of brandy to wind down.”

“You’re drunk, Samuel. Call Danilo. He can take me to the hospital.”

Samuel’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m your husband. I’ll take you. I’m in control.”

I pressed my lips together, fighting an onslaught of emotions as he carried me down the stairs.

“Samuel—”

“I’m fine! We don’t need Danilo.”

I shook my head again. “You aren’t fine!”

His gait was steady despite the heavy note of alcohol on his breath and the slightly feverish look in his eyes. Maybe he could drive. But a warning voice in my head reminded me of the past. Fear gripped me.

“Samuel—”

He put me down on the passenger seat and buckled me up. “We’ll be quicker if I drive than if we wait for an ambulance or for your brother to arrive. We need to get you to a doctor as soon as possible.”

He was right but still…

I touched my belly, focusing on my baby.

Samuel got in the car and started the engine.

My stomach constricted. Hazy memories from a crash long ago that changed my life resurfaced.

My bodyguard had also smelled of alcohol.

It hadn’t been the first time he’d been drunk on the job.

I had noticed the stench before, but he’d never had trouble driving before.

A vivid image of the car swerving to the side, of a truck heading our way, and the lights blinding me shot through my head. After that, everything was black. It was the moment that changed my life forever.

I swallowed hard. My instincts screamed at me not to let Samuel drive. But if I called Danilo or Pietro, they would know something was wrong, and they’d figure out that Samuel had a problem with alcohol.

I couldn’t betray Samuel like that. Right?

Samuel drove too fast.

I clutched the seat, fear clogging my throat. “Samuel, slow down.”

“You need help,” he muttered.

He drove way too fast into a curve, and the car swerved toward oncoming traffic. The headlights of a car blinded me. I screamed, raw fear ripping the sound from the depths of my body. Not again.

The car jerked to the side, barely missing the other car. I was flung against the door, then we jolted to a stop.

Samuel breathed harshly.

“Emma? Emma, are you okay?”

I blinked, trying to breathe in and out as a myriad of images I hadn’t remembered up until that point flooded my mind. Being stuck in a wreck, my bodyguard trying to talk to me, the acute pain in my head. Blood everywhere.

Samuel touched my shoulder. “Emma?”

I unbuckled myself. We were on the side of the road, parked at a bus stop. Samuel shook me slightly until my eyes focused on him. “Emma, say something.”

He had a cut on his temple where he must have hit the side of the car. Blood was trickling down his face.

The other car’s driver got out of his car and gestured wildly at Samuel.

“I’m okay,” I pressed out.

Samuel nodded, then he grabbed his phone. “Dad, I need you to pick Emma up quickly.”

An ambulance arrived before Pietro did. Samuel sat silently beside me, ignoring the other driver who tried to argue with him.

“I’m riding in the ambulance,” I told Samuel.

“I should come with you.”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I knew once the shock had lessened, I’d be furious. Not just at Samuel but also at me for getting into a car with a drunk driver. I should have known better. He should have too. But he was in denial of his problem, and I wasn’t.

Samuel regarded me. “Or I could drive there. I can’t leave my car here.”

“You should ride with your dad,” I said as the paramedics helped me onto the stretcher. I explained that the blood on my nightgown wasn’t from the crash, but I wasn’t sure if they believed me.

“It’s too dangerous for you to ride alone,” Samuel said with a frown.

“Getting in a car with you was too dangerous.”

I swallowed hard, guilt burning a hot trail through my insides. The disappointed and hurt look in Emma’s eyes almost killed me. I pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before I told the ambulance driver to be extra careful and explained the consequences if he wasn’t.

Dad arrived when the ambulance pulled away.

I felt almost sober by now. I had definitely drunk a bit more than I should have tonight. It had been a shitty day.

Dad touched my shoulder. “What happened?”

The usual lie lay on the tip of my tongue, but I was fucking tired of lying. I’d put so much energy into deceiving Emma…and she knew. “I drove drunk today and lost control of the car.”

Dad frowned. “You should have called. Come on. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

I sank down in the passenger seat.

When I rubbed my face, it came away bloody.

I hadn’t even noticed I was injured. That was why the paramedic wanted to take a look at me.

“Has this happened before?” Dad asked carefully.

“Me driving drunk?” I asked with a hint of dark humor.

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember the last time I didn’t drink something,” I confessed. It felt good to admit it, but at the same time, shame crawled under my skin like cockroaches.

Dad slanted me a look. “Samuel?”

“I think Emma is going to leave me. I lied to her. I almost killed her today.”

“Why didn’t you come to me sooner? I’m your father. You can tell me anything.”

“Dad, I’m your heir. I’m a Made Man. A man should be able to hold his liquor, right?”

Dad grimaced as he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. “That’s just something I said. It doesn’t mean you should get drunk every day.”

“I’m not drinking to get drunk. I hardly ever get drunk anymore. I just drink to function.” I laughed bitterly. How was that for staying in control? Samuel Mione, the ice king, losing control of his life and body. A shame. A fucking disgrace.

“We’ll grab a coffee or two before we head to Emma. You smell of alcohol. We need to get you sober before you see her again.”

“I am sober. Or as sober as I can be.”

Dad grabbed my arm. “Dammit, Samuel. I lost Fina. I won’t lose you.”

I nodded mutely. Fina.

“Is this because of her? Did you start drinking because of her?”

“Because of the friends I killed. Because of my inability to protect those I care about. Because I lost her to a madman. The list is long, Dad. The funny thing is Emma makes me happy. But I still drink.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t stop,” I admitted, then shook my head. “Because of the guilt, because I’m scared to mess up and get Emma or our baby killed. I almost did today.”

“You need to stop.”

I nodded. I knew that. What if it was too late? What if I’d already lost Emma?