Chapter 3 - THE HOSPITAL BILL
Tessa woke beneath fluorescent lights with a pounding headache and a terrible ache beneath her ribs.
A nurse introduced herself as Hannah and explained that the scans showed bruising but no internal bleeding. Tessa had a mild concussion, a split lip requiring stitches, and two cracked ribs. She would need rest, follow-up care, and time away from heavy work.
Time away from work was the one thing she didn't have.
“Can I leave today?” she asked.
“We'd like to observe you a little longer.”
Tessa stared at the blanket. “My landlord doesn't accept observation as rent.”
Hannah pulled up a chair. “A social worker can discuss assistance programs with you.”
The offer was so unexpected that Tessa almost cried.
At noon, Vincent appeared in the doorway wearing a charcoal suit. He had shaved, and the medical weakness of the previous night was hidden beneath perfect tailoring. He looked again like the man whose name made shopkeepers lower their voices.
“May I come in?” he asked.
Tessa stared. “Since when do you ask permission?”
“Since this morning.”
She considered him, then nodded.
He stayed near the door. “Matteo says you'll recover.”
“Matteo also says I shouldn't lift anything heavier than a bag of groceries. Does he know what a maid does?”
“I've arranged paid leave.”
“You've arranged?”
Vincent caught the warning in her voice. “Your employer owes you wages while you recover from an injury suffered at work. The household office will process them. That's not a favor.”
Tessa looked surprised. “Who told you to say that?”
“No one.”
“Sounds like a lawyer.”
“I have several.”
Despite herself, she smiled. It hurt her lip.
Vincent placed a paper bag on the bedside table. Inside was a pastry from a bakery on the North Side, the closest he could find to the sfogliatelle her brother used to make.
“I didn't know what you liked.”
Tessa looked at the pastry, then at him. “How did you know about Leo?”
“You told me while I was pretending to be unconscious.”
Her smile vanished. “So you heard all of it.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Vincent waited.
“My brother lost everything because of your people. You didn't even know his name.”
“I know it now.”
“That's not the same as fixing it.”
“No.”
Tessa studied him. “Why are you really here?”
Vincent considered lying. It would have been effortless.
“Because you saved my life, and I don't understand why.”
She looked toward the window. “I saw a man about to be murdered. That's all.”
“Even a man you hate?”
“Especially then. If I'd stood there and let it happen, I'd have to live with that.”
Vincent felt the answer settle somewhere painful.
He turned to leave.
“Mr. Costa?”
He stopped.
“Don't send flowers. Don't send jewelry. And don't send a man to watch my door.”
He nodded. “Understood.”
When he left, Tessa opened the paper bag.
May you like
The pastry was still warm.
She ate half, then saved the rest for later, wondering whether a man who had built his fortune on fear could ever learn to hear the word no.
