My Ruthless Mafia Husband Skipped My Birthday For The Third Time—Until He Stripped Off My Soaked Coat And Found A Secret Hospital Wristband With My Maiden Name On It

Dr. Bennett had worked frantically for four hours. An IV drip hung from the curtain rod, flushing warm saline and intravenous antibiotics into my veins. An oxygen cannula rested beneath my nostrils, feeding steady, life-giving air into my congested lungs.

When I finally pulled myself out of the suffocating dark, the room was quiet except for the rhythmic hiss of the oxygen concentrator.

Sitting in the armchair beside my bed was Luca.

He hadn't changed out of his suit. His expensive Italian wool coat was discarded on the floor, soaking wet where he had dropped it. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, stained with dark smudges of dirt and my own blood. He was holding a stack of manila folders that I recognized with a jolt of panic.

My medical records from St. Bridget’s.

""You broke into the hospital files,"" I whispered, my voice sounding like sandpaper.

Luca didn't flinch. Slowly, he raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with deep purple shadows. He looked completely shattered, a terrifying inversion of the invincible crime lord the city feared.

""I didn't have to break in,"" he said, his voice raw, stripped of all arrogance. ""I called the hospital board at midnight. The director personally unlocked the vault when I told him my men would burn the facility to the ground if I didn't get answers.""

He set the papers on the bedside table. His hands were still trembling.

""Five years old,"" Luca whispered, staring at me. ""His name is Leo Vance. His parents died in an apartment fire two years ago. State ward. He had three months to live.""

I turned my head away, looking toward the dark window pane streaked with rain. ""He had nobody. The registry called me because I was an exact ten-out-of-ten match. They said if I refused, he would die.""

""You underwent two marrow aspirations and five leukapheresis sessions in four weeks,"" Luca’s voice cracked, a sound so unnatural coming from him that it made me turn back. ""You were injecting yourself with granulocyte colony-stimulating factors every single morning. Do you know what Bennett told me? He said the bone pain from those injections feels like your ribs are cracking from the inside out.""

Tears welled in my eyes, but I swallowed them down. ""I survived.""

""You almost died on my stairs tonight, Nora!"" Luca slammed his fist against the armrest of the chair, jumping to his feet. ""You walked a mile and a half in freezing sleet with internal puncture wounds! Your core body temperature was eighty-nine degrees! If I had come home five minutes later, your heart would have stopped!""

""And whose fault is that?"" The question slipped out of me before I could stop it, fueled by months of buried pain.

Luca froze mid-stride.

""You weren't there, Luca,"" I cried, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes. ""You gave me a contract! You gave me a bank account! You gave me a separate bedroom and told me not to embarrass you! Why do you care if I bleed? Why do you care if I die on the stairs? I am just a signature on a piece of paper to you!""

""Don't you dare say that!"" he roared, lunging forward, dropping onto his knees at my bedside, his hands gripping the edge of my mattress so hard the wood groaned. ""Don't you dare say you're just a signature!""

""Then what was tonight?"" I sobbed, my chest aching with every breath. ""I wore the dress. I waited three hours. You didn't even have the decency to text me yourself!""