Page 123 of Precious Hazard

“I’ll think about it,” he grumbles.

“Alright. I’ll just tell Arturo that from now on, all of our fun carnal times are happening on the front porch. He’ll love it. All that fresh air will bring out the wild man in him.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Fine.” He grits his teeth. “Where is the pretty boy, anyway?”

“Ilaria dragged him away to give him a checkup and get some follow-up blood work done. She had to threaten to restrict all visitor access to me if he didn’t obey her medical orders.”

“What the hell does he need a checkup for? Making sure every strand of his hair is still in place?”

“Ha! Funny, but no. Considering he almost suffered a hypovolemic shock by donating all that blood for my transfusion, she needed to make sure he’s alright, and that his pigheadedness didn’t cause him complications.”

Drago blinks at me as if my words left him mildly stunned, but that surprised expression on his face quickly morphs into irritation. “I’m your brother. They should have called me to do blood donation.”

“Oh, for the love of God.” I look toward the heavens and sigh. “Get lost, Drago. And send Keva in.”

He kisses my cheek and rises to leave, just as a thought occurs to me. I bite my bottom lip.

“Hey.” I grab his forearm. “Do you think Dina would have liked Arturo?”

A serene smile pulls at his lips. “Yeah. I think she would have. Unfortunately.”

He crosses the room to the door, but before pulling it open, he turns abruptly. His eyes—worried yet resigned—sweep over me. What is he thinking? About Dina? Our past? Regretting the choices we both made?

“You really love that asshole?”

“I do. I really, really do.”

***

The nightstand lamp beside my hospital bed casts soft light on the stack of papers in my hand, making the pristine white slightly yellowish. Sickly. Diseased. My mind can’t quite comprehend the text before my eyes, so I stare at it a little harder. Trying to… understand.

How could I have been so wrong? Was I really that dopey from the meds that I completely misunderstood Arturo’s words? My gaze slides to the bottom of the page. Below the bold section heading. The date. Our names. Focusing on the two lines. The upper one already holds my husband’s neat signature.

I can’t live through that a second time.

I thought that was him confessing that he loves me.

Obviously, I was mistaken.

That realization slams into my chest like a sledgehammer, and the pain is a thousand times greater than the actual physical discomfort after my surgery.

It’s agony, but infinitely more.

Not wanting him to see the effect this is having on me, I sink my teeth into my lower lip to stop it from trembling. Then, I look up, meeting Arturo’s piercing stare.

“You want a fucking divorce, DeVille?”

“Yes.”

His instant response feels like a finishing blow, absolutely annihilating me.There’s no hiding the shaking of my fingers as I slip free the pen clipped to the top edge of the file folder and set the ballpoint on the blank line. The ink flows blue across the page, but my vision blurs, distorts, and morphs what I’m seeing into red. In my mind, I’m signing another deal with the devil. This time, with my blood.

“There.” I close the flap of the folder over the document and keep my attention fixed on the wretched thing.I will not let him see me cry. “What about my money? We agreed on a million for each month of our marriage.”

“We did. And since I’m breaking the term, all twelve million was deposited into your account an hour ago.”