After we lost our baby just three days after birth, I dropped every habit that made Julian frown. I stopped asking where he went. Even when he stayed out all night, I could still sleep soundly. Even when a stray bullet grazed my wrist during a street shootout and the doctor asked me to notify my next of kin, I simply said, "I don't have any family." A nurse recognized me. "You're Mrs. Marchetti, right? Mr. Julian's motorcade is parked downstairs. Should I go let him know?" I lowered my eyes and told her not to bother. Half an hour later, Julian pushed the door open anyway. He was dressed in an expensive suit, his voice a low murmur. "You're hurt. Why didn't you call me?" I looked down at the bandages. "It's just a scratch. The Capo has better things to do." My indifferent tone only seemed to irritate him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the hushed gossip of his men drifted in from the hallway. "Heard about Mia? The Capo really has a thing for her. She twisted her ankle at the casino, and he sent three bulletproof SUVs to clear the block. Carried her out himself. Her shoes didn't even touch the ground." Julian's jaw tightened. He shot a guarded glance my way, as if waiting for me to fly into a rage and demand answers, just like I used to. But I remained perfectly quiet, leaning against the hospital bed without moving an inch. He thought I was finally done causing trouble. He didn't realize I was quietly preparing to disappear from his life forever.
