When Labor Became My Prison

Dr. Russo laid me on the floor of the empty room and ran out.

"I'll check the nurses' station for supplies!" he yelled.

Elena leaned against the doorframe, enjoying the show.

"So dramatic," she said, examining her nails. "Still needs work on your acting, though."

Another contraction ripped through me, and I curled into a ball.

Blood kept pooling under me, spreading across the white marble floor.

Two minutes later, Dr. Russo ran back in.

Empty-handed.

His face was white as a sheet.

"There's nothing at the station," he said, his voice trembling. "Not even a basic hemostat. No gauze."

Elena chuckled. "Oh, those? They were sent to Ornella's room, too. Vittorio's orders."

"This is murder!" Dr. Russo shouted. "She'll die! The baby will die!"

"That's fate," Elena shrugged. "The needs of the Family come first."

Dr. Russo knelt beside me and took my hand.

"Signora, I'm so sorry," he said, tears in his eyes. "I have no equipment, no medicine. Nothing."

"Then use your hands!" I grabbed his collar. "Do anything!"

"I can't risk it. It's not sterile, I have nothing to stop the bleeding—"

"Enough!" Elena suddenly snapped.

Two guards walked in and grabbed Dr. Russo's arms.

"Miss Elena said 'enough'," one of them grunted.

"No!" Dr. Russo struggled. "She needs a doctor!"

They started dragging him out.

"Listen to me!" Dr. Russo screamed as they dragged him away. "You have to push! Find the hardest point of the contraction and bear down! Use the pain!"

His voice faded down the hall. "Bear down! Don't give up!"

The door slammed shut.

It was just me and Elena again.

She pulled out her phone and made a video call.

"Vittorio?" Her voice was suddenly full of hurt. "You need to see the new show your 'good wife' is putting on."

She pointed the camera at me.

I saw Vittorio’s face. He stood in the brightly lit hall outside another suite. His suit was rumpled. His face was a mask of exhaustion.

When he saw me in the pool of blood, a flicker of shock crossed his face. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by ice.

"What's wrong with her?" His voice was tight, cold.

"What do you think? It's an act," Elena said lightly. "She's bleeding a little, sure, but Dr. Russo is a drama queen. I think she's just trying to get you to come over here."

Vittorio's jaw tightened as he stared at me through the screen.

Then, a weak woman's voice came from his side of the call. Ornella.

"Vittorio… who is it… Is that Alessia? Is she… is she blaming me again?"

"It's nothing, don't lose focus," Vittorio said, his voice instantly softening for her. But his eyes on me grew colder.

"Vittorio!" I screamed with my last bit of strength. "Save me... the baby... the baby is really coming!"

"Alessia, stop it." His expression didn't change. "Ornella is having complications. The doctors are with her now. She is the priority."

"But I—"

"I'll deal with you after," he cut me off coldly.

On the screen, I saw him turn to gently stroke Ornella's forehead.

"This is your penance for what you did."

The screen went black.

Elena put her phone away, satisfied.

"See?" She knelt in front of me, her eyes full of cruelty. "You're nothing to Vittorio. Just some woman who climbed into his bed for money. A broodmare. And now, you're not even good for that."

"You thought you could marry into the Falcone family and become a queen?" she said, standing to deliver her verdict. "You and that thing inside you are just trash that needs to be cleaned up."

I closed my eyes. I couldn't look at her anymore.

My hand secretly moved to the necklace I was wearing.

It was an antique locket from my grandmother. The last line of defense my father gave me before my wedding.

"If you are ever in a danger you cannot escape," my father had told me, his voice dead serious, "crush it."

My fingers found the tiny mechanism inside the locket.

Elena's voice was still ringing in my ears.

"...Ornella told me you were no good from the start. I even defended you. What a fool I was. Some girl from nowhere, marrying in for money. Who knows what you were really after?"

With all my strength, I crushed the mechanism.

There was no sound, no light. But I knew. The signal was sent.

"Half an hour," my father had said. "Within half an hour, my men will tear Chicago apart to find you."

But my baby... could my baby last another half an hour?