Red Card to Your Heart: You Don't Deserve My Love Extra Time novel Chapter 23

The impact reverberated through my body as I hit the wooden deck. When I tried to stand, a knife of pain sliced through my abdomen—sharp and worrying. I pressed my hand against my stomach instinctively, the gesture hidden by the folds of my crimson dress.

Carina transformed instantly into the picture of remorse, tears magically appearing on command. Even in crisis, she performed flawlessly.

"My God, I'm so sorry!" she gasped, hands fluttering to her mouth in practiced distress. "It was an accident, I swear." Her voice dropped to a theatrical whisper as she knelt beside me, making sure others could hear. "Don't worry about the ring. I'll tell Salvatore to buy you an even bigger one. He's always so generous with me—buys me anything I desire. Last week it was that Bulgari bracelet I mentioned once."

I met her performance with glacial calm, my voice steady despite the growing pain. "No need to trouble yourself, Carina. You dropped it—you can retrieve it."

In one fluid motion, I tangled my fingers in her expensively highlighted hair and yanked her toward the water's edge. Carina's designer heels skidded against the polished wood as I dragged her closer to the lake's dark surface.

"You bitch!" she shrieked, abandoning her cultivated refinement. "Help me! She's insane!"

The restaurant erupted into chaos—men rising from their seats, women clutching pearls, waiters frozen in shock. We were, after all, supposedly civilized criminals.

"Il Don! Fermatevi!" a voice cut through the commotion. "The Don is here!"

At Salvatore's name, the crowd parted like the sea. Everyone stilled.

He stood in the restaurant's entrance, silhouetted against the setting sun, an armful of deep crimson roses clutched against his black suit. His face bore that peculiar blankness that always preceded his worst violence.

Carina seized the moment, tearing herself from my grip with surprising strength. She ran to Salvatore, collapsing against his chest with the perfect tragic timing of a silent film star.

"Salvatore," she sobbed, her voice breaking beautifully. "She threw my mother's necklace into the lake—the cross pendant Mamma gave me before she died." Her fingers clutched at his lapels. "The only thing I have left of her."

The lie formed seamlessly on her lips. In the scuffle, her necklace must have fallen among the reeds along the shore—a convenient prop for her performance.

I dug my nails into my palms until I felt skin break, using the small pain to focus through the larger one rippling through my body.

"I never touched her necklace," I said quietly, my voice carrying in the sudden silence. "But she deliberately pushed me and sent our wedding ring into the lake."

She touched Salvatore's face with trembling fingers. "I'll find it myself. Don't hurt her on my account."

For a single moment, I caught a flash of calculation in her eyes before they welled with fresh tears.

Salvatore ignored her, his attention fixing on me with unexpected intensity. Something in my appearance must have betrayed my condition. His expression shifted subtly—the microexpression of concern I'd learned to recognize over three years.

"What's wrong?" he asked, the edge in his voice softening fractionally. "Are you sick?"

I forced my lips into the smile I'd perfected for him, even as another wave of pain radiated through my abdomen. I knew what it meant—had felt something similar once before, years ago.

"I'm fine," I lied smoothly, turning toward the waterlogged grass along the lakeshore.

The early autumn air penetrated my wet clothes, sending a bone-deep chill through me that had nothing to do with the temperature. I focused on each step, pressing my hand against my stomach to quiet the growing pain.