prepare for this—years spent in sheer agony. The only thing that kept me alive was the hope that I'd escape the devil and find my way out of this hell. Instead, all I had gotten was this torturous limbo; a status quo where I didn't hold any strings and didn't know what would happen next. Deep inside, I prepared myself for any possible outcome, but I feared the worst with every fiber of my being. I should have known Alessandro Damiani couldn't be defeated so easily.
The SUV pulled up in front of the hospital, and my gaze froze on the crowd of reporters approaching our vehicle. The sight caught me unprepared. Broderick opened the door, and the noise of a thousand synchronized questions infiltrated my ears. Sweat broke out along my spine, and a tightening arrested my chest.
“Look down and don't say a word,” Broderick instructed as he helped me out of the car.
“I'm scared,” I whispered in sudden turmoil.
He took hold of my hand and squeezed it in silent support, letting go an instant later so nobody would notice. As we walked toward the entrance, I was blinded by a storm of camera flashes and microphones shoved into my face. Broderick's large body shielded me from the persistent reporters, and he pushed all of the cameras out of the way. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to make them stop screaming those questions I couldn't have possibly answered.
Mrs. Damiani...Mrs. Damiani. When did you find out about your husband's accident? Did you know someone attempted to murder Mr. Damiani? Where was he going? Do you have any idea why he cancelled all of his meetings?
No matter how persistent they were, I didn't utter a single reply. Somehow, we managed to enter the hospital unscathed, and Broderick helped me sit in a nearby chair while he talked to the staff. As I waited, the last question lingered in my mind. Alessandro had cancelled his meetings. That was so out of character. Suddenly, I also wondered what could have been so important for my husband to clear his entire schedule for the day. Perhaps, it was a fabricated lie by the press, and they only said it to provoke me into offering some information.
Broderick returned with a doctor who informed me Alessandro was in an intensive care ward. I was allowed to see him shortly. As we followed the kind doctor to the room, I took in the information he provided with an absent mind, answering with a repeated series of nods because I was devoid of the will to speak a word to anyone. The doctor explained my husband was in a coma, and his body needed to recover from both the visible injuries and the internal bleeding. His condition was still critical and nobody knew when he would wake up. It could be in an hour. It could be in ten years. There was even a chance he might spend the rest of his life in this unconscious state.
Each step I took carried more weight and by the time the doctor said we were almost there, I turned into an emotional wreck. All I wanted to do was wheel around and sprint miles away from this place, but I couldn't do that; not with the world watching and judging my every action. My only option was to play the part of a loving and distraught wife. The doctor led us to the very door of Alessandro's room. Then his beeper rang and he excused himself. Palms sweating, I glanced toward Broderick and reached for the door handle. He caught my elbow and gazed at me with silent compassion.
“It's all right,” he whispered softly. “He can't hurt you, Olivia.”
I expelled a shaky breath. “It's too late to worry about that now.”
Broderick's green eyes softened, and I could tell he felt guilty because things didn't turn out the way they should have. It wasn't his fault I was doomed to spend an eternity with a monster. This isn't a fucking movie, tesoro. There is no prince charming coming to your rescue. It’s past time you accept this is your life now because I’m running out of patience. Trust me, Olivia...You do not want things between us to turn ugly. Alessandro's poisonous words from long ago returned to taunt me, and I froze in front of that door, collecting the last ounces of courage to enter.
Taking in a deep breath, I forced myself to step inside the room. The sight of my unconscious husband caught