The smell of disinfectant and plastic greeted her when Domenica awoke. Her eyes fluttered open, and the sight of a clean, cold hospital room greeted her.

Her father sat in a chair against the wall opposite her hospital bed. Their eyes met and she felt suddenly chilled.

“You’re alive,” she said, her voice scratchy.

He didn’t blink. “Of course, I am.”

Fear made her stomach twist and she blinked back the sudden tears threatening to expose her. How could he be so cold? Her father had never been the kind of man to show emotion, but still… “I’ve been looking for you.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Before she could wrap her brain around his words, his coldness, the door to her hospital room opened and a fierce-looking Gian stepped inside. Without a word, he closed the distance between them and took her hand carefully. “Tesoro.”

“I see the rumors didn’t lie,” her father observed, standing from his chair.

Gian turned to face him, but he didn’t release her hand. “You did this.”

“It’s not his fault, Gian,” she said, tugging on his hand. And yet, she still felt like she was on the verge of tears. This was also ridiculous. Nothing was going the way she’d thought it would. Her father was supposed to be happy she’d found him. That she’d tried to keep his men safe while he was gone. But he didn’t seem to care at all.

“You end up in the hospital right after chasing after his man, and he sits here as calm as can be and uninjured. And you’re saying it’s not his fault?” Gian’s gaze didn’t move from her father. To him, he added, “Where the fuck have you been, anyway?”

“My whereabouts are none of your concern.”

“But they are my concern,” Domenica cut in, her voice stronger than she expected. Frustration pushed anger through her, for the moment, smothering her sadness. That was good. Anger was easier to deal with. “I’ve been searching for you, everywhere. You just disappeared. Biagio—”

“Biagio is no longer your concern.”

“Bullshit,” Gian cut in. “He dared to touch my mate.”

That got a gruff laugh from her father. “Your mate.”

A man in a white lab coat entered, holding a clipboard. As if sensing the tension in the room, he halted a couple feet in and looked back and forth between the men. After a long moment, he said, “I’m Dr. Gordon.” Then, as if he couldn’t cut the tension between the two men with a knife, he stepped between them to get to his patient. “How are you feeling?”

“Not bad,” she said, somewhat honestly. Her stomach swirled a bit, but she didn’t feel on the edge of passing out. Which, by all rights, she should, given the fact that she was betting the doctor was about to spill the beans to both Gian and her father.

But the doctor was more professional than she’d given him credit for. “Perhaps we could speak alone.” He turned and gave the men a pointed look.

“No. It’s okay.” Better they find out now. Might as well deal with the typhoon and get it out of the way. Before she chickened out.

The doctor nodded. “You do know you’re pregnant, then?”

Her father’s frown deepened, but Gian, to his credit, didn’t look surprised. Whether that was because he’d suspected or simply he was so good at hiding his emotions, she wasn’t sure.

“Yes. I just found out.” She added the second bit quickly, hoping that Gian wouldn’t be too upset that she hadn’t already told him.

The doctor frowned. “Then you should be taking better care of yourself. You need to rest. Eat more. Avoid stress.”

Gian’s eyes narrowed, and she grimaced. “Will do, Doc. Does that mean I can go home now?”

“I’ll get started on your release paperwork. You should be able to leave within the hour.” The doctor shook her hand, then left.

“Pregnant?” Her father’s disapproval echoed in the single word. “Well, that was fast.” His gaze slid to Gian. “What a pitiful way for your family to begin.”

Against his side, Gian’s hand clenched into a tight fist. “My family is none of your concern.”

“Stop it, both of you.” She sat up in the bed, and waved Gian off when he reached to help her. She needed to be more careful, yes. But she wasn’t an invalid. Proving her strength to her father was important. “Where have you been?” she asked her father. “Gian has spent weeks helping me look for you. Protecting me from Biagio. When you apparently couldn’t be bothered.”

Not one hint of emotion touched her father’s features. “It was a test.”

Confusion washed over her. “A test of what? Of whom?”

“Of you, of course,” he said. Then, at her stunned silence, he added, “When I discovered your dragon blood, I had no choice but to test you. To see how strong you were. To decide if I could continue to trust you.”

Realization hit, and with it came a rising anger. “It wasn’t about trust. It was about control. You don’t want anyone around you that you can’t control.”

“She could have been hurt—even killed—by Biagio if I hadn’t interceded.” Gian’s voice echoed the anger she felt.

Her father didn’t blink. “I ensured that she would have loyal men at her side.”

“Tony—and the others. They were operating under your orders?” she asked, appalled. She’d thought them loyal to her. At least, that they had some loyalty toward her.

“Of course,” he said, as if her assumption of anything else made her an idiot.

“And Biagio?” she asked.

Finally, a flicker of emotion from her father. Irritation if she didn’t miss her guess. “Biagio has not followed the plan as well as I might have liked.”

“That’s all you have to say about his behavior toward your daughter?” Gian demanded.

Domenica held her hand up, silencing him before he could add more. Not that her father didn’t deserve it, but it wouldn’t give her the answers she sought. “How ironic.”

Her father raised a brow, waiting.

“You finally give me a taste of the freedom I’ve been wanting, but only as a test. To see if you could control me.” Her voice crackled, and she cleared her throat. “I would have done anything to find you, to make sure you were safe. And you were just playing a game with me.”

“Farfallina—”

“No,” she said firmly.

The slight hint of emotion in his expression disappeared, along with the last bit of childlike hope she’d had that her father would come through for her. “Very well. I think it is best this way. You are no longer a Todaro.”

Even expecting his words, she was left in shocked silence. Without another word, her father got up—sparing neither her nor Gian a second glance—and left.

Finally, she let her tears fall.

* * *

Gian waited until the door shut behind Domenica’s father before he strode toward his mate and took her into his arms.

A sob broke from her lips, and fire burned in his gut to dispatch the man who’d done this to her. If only he could. But there were some things that violence couldn’t solve.

He could only hold her tighter.

Caressing her soft hair, he murmured reassurances. After a few moments, she pulled away, sniffling.

“I always thought—” She shook her head. “He’s never been a warm man. Never been the type to show any kind of softer emotion—not since my mom died, anyway. But I always assumed that deep down he was so protective of me because he cared. Because he loved me.”

Gian sat on the bed and wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sure that he cares for you as much as he’s able to. But a man like him…”

“I know. His empire comes first. It always has and always will. I knew that here.” She tapped her head. Then her hand moved down to touch her chest. “I guess I never accepted it here.”

“How could you? He’s your father.”

A sharp laugh escaped her lips. “He adopted me because my mother wanted me. Because she couldn’t have children. And I think he accepted me until the moment he decided I could be a threat.”

Gian didn’t have an answer to that. Like so many of the men in their world, Don Todaro had decided long ago that his business was his life. It was an unbending, harsh reality of black and white. So he just held her, and handed her a tissue when she asked for it.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked after she dried her tears. “I know I should have told you about the baby, but I just found out. And I wasn’t sure how to tell you with everything else going on.”

“I’m not angry with you. How could I be? You’re my mate and you’re carrying my child.” The reality of that sunk in, and pride, hope, and love filled his chest. How could he be mad at anyone right now? He had a strong, beautiful mate who he cared for deeply—and who cared just as deeply for him. And she carried his child. “I love you.”

She drew in a sharp breath of air. “You do?”

“Yes. And nothing will ever come before my family. Before you. Not power. Not business. Nothing.”

She sniffled again and he wanted to kick himself for saying something so emotionally charged when she was still so fragile. But when she spoke, her voice was strong.

“I love you, too.”

He wanted to pick her up and twirl her around the room, but he didn’t dare. Not after she’d ended up in the hospital so recently. Not while she carried a child. So instead, he leaned down and kissed her softly.

“Next time, tell me sooner,” he murmured against her lips.

She snorted. And somehow, coming from her the sound was both cute and ladylike. “But then you won’t let me do things like rescue my friends.”

“Exactly.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “I’m so selfish. I didn’t even ask about Anna.”

“Your friend is just fine, under guard in our home. And you aren’t selfish, you’ve been a little busy.”

She grinned, and then kissed him. He slid his tongue between her lips, and felt his body ready to claim her again. He broke the kiss and glanced over her shoulder. Could he take her quickly and silently enough to not get caught?

“No way, cuore mio,” she chided him, as if reading his thoughts. The line between her brows reappeared, and he frowned in response.

“What is it?”

She hesitated, then spoke in a rush of words. “My father. I know it’s stupid, but now that I’m feeling calmer, I’d like to stop by his house before we go home. Just to clear the air a bit. Get a few things off my chest.”

He hated the idea of taking her to the man who’d so hurt her not twenty minutes before. He wanted to pull her into his arms, protect her. Keep her safe, not take her into danger.

But she wasn’t that kind of woman. No. His mate was the type to walk bravely into any trouble right at his side. And no matter how it might drive him crazy, he couldn’t restrict her just to make himself feel more comfortable. She would never be happy.

“Anything for you, cara mia.”