Chapter 3

I woke up to voices.

Everything hurt. My abdomen, my ribs, even breathing sent sharp pains through my chest.

I opened my eyes and saw Gideon standing beside the hospital bed. Daisy was next to him, her eyes red and puffy.

"Bella." Daisy's voice came out choked. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

I stared at her.

"I suggested to Mrs. Moretti that she take you for a checkup," she continued, dabbing at her eyes. "I was just worried about your health. I never thought she would misunderstand and something like this would happen."

The baby.

My hand moved instinctively to my flat stomach.

"The baby's gone," I said. "Are you satisfied now?"

Daisy's eyes widened in shock. Her hand trembled as she lifted the bowl from the nightstand.

"What? No, I— I would never do that to you! This is soup. I bought it for you myself—"

"Stop lying!" I smacked her hand away.

Daisy screamed and stumbled backward. The hot liquid splashed across her arm and she fell to the floor, clutching her wrist.

"You did this on purpose!" I shouted. "You told her to take me! You knew what she'd do!"

"What the hell are you doing?!" Gideon shoved me back against the pillows and dropped to his knees beside Daisy. "Are you insane?"

"She planned it! She wanted this!"

"Are you out of your mind?" He turned away from me completely, focusing on Daisy. "Are you okay? Let me see."

Daisy held up her arm, real tears streaming down her face now.

"It's okay," she whispered. "She didn't mean it. She's upset, she just lost—"

"Don't make excuses for her." Gideon's voice was ice. He looked back at me with disgust. "Daisy was trying to help and you attack her?"

"Help?" I couldn't believe this. "Gideon, she set me up! She told your mother to—"

"Enough!" He hit the call button for the nurse. "And what's this about a baby? Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"

"I tried! When your mother's men were beating me, I called you and you hung up on me!"

Something flickered across his face. Just for a second. Then it was gone.

"If there was really a baby, you should have told me sooner," he said flatly. "Not sprung it on me in the middle of some crisis."

A nurse rushed in, took one look at Daisy's arm, and immediately started making calls.

Twenty minutes later, I heard the doctor's voice down the hall.

"The burn is second-degree. We'll need to monitor it closely. There's a risk of scarring."

"Scarring?" That was Gideon. "Can you prevent that?"

"We can try topical treatments, but if the damage is too deep, she may need a skin graft."

Then Gideon appeared in my doorway.

"The doctor says Daisy might have permanent scars."

"Good." His jaw tightened. "You're going to fix this."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Yes, you are." He walked into the room. "If she needs a skin graft, you're donating the skin. You're responsible for what happened to Daisy."

I stared at him. "You can't be serious."

"You caused this. You'll fix it. This is your punishment."

"Gideon, I just had a miscarriage! I can't—"

"That's exactly why you're doing this." His voice was cold, final. "You hurt Daisy. You're going to make it right."

He left before I could say anything else.

Two hours later, they wheeled me into a prep room.

I told the nurses I didn't consent. But Gideon had already signed the paperwork.

"I hate you," I whispered. Tears ran down my face. "Gideon Moretti, you're the person I hate most in this entire world."

Gideon looked at me for a long moment.

"You'll understand later," he said. "When you calm down."

The door closed behind him.

When I woke up, my right arm was wrapped in thick bandages.

The pain hit immediately. Burning, tearing.

The room was dark.

I was alone.

The door opened quietly.

I expected a nurse. Instead, Daisy walked in.

She glanced behind her, then closed the door softly.

"Gideon just left to handle some business," she said. "He'll be gone for at least an hour."

She walked closer and held up her bandaged arm.

"Want to know a secret?" Her lips curved into a smile. "It won't scar. The burn wasn't that bad. I asked the doctor to tell Gideon it might leave marks."

I couldn't breathe.

"You should see your face right now." She laughed softly.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because Gideon was supposed to be mine." She leaned against the wall. "From the day you married him, I've been waiting for this moment."

I closed my eyes. I was too tired to be angry.

"Does it hurt?" Her voice was cheerful. "The surgery, I mean. I hope it does. Because this is just the beginning, Isabella."

"Why?" I asked. "Why me?"

"Because you're an outsider."

"If he loved you, why did he marry me?"

"Because I left five years ago." She turned to face me. "But I'm back now. And honestly, do you really think he'll choose you?"

She leaned down close.

"He's going to leave you, Isabella. Very soon. And when he does, I'll be right there waiting."

"I'll be waiting too," I whispered.

She looked confused. "For what?"

I didn't answer.

She shrugged and walked to the door. "We'll see."

Then she was gone.

The next few days passed quietly.

Then came the day my father and I had agreed upon.

I was discharged.

Gideon sent a car but didn't come himself. The driver dropped me at the Moretti mansion and left.

I went upstairs and packed a small suitcase.

I took out the copy of the divorce papers, then I went to my lawyer's office.

After everything was finalized, I told the lawyer:

"Please deliver the agreement to him only after I've left New York."