Chapter Ninety-Two

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, an almost tangible silence settled over the room. The air was thick with unspoken tension, hanging heavy between Matteo and Gen. Matteo exhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders as he eased himself into the chair. He leaned back, closing his eyes, trying to find some semblance of calm. Gen observed him carefully, her gaze sharp and discerning. She couldn’t help but notice the dark circles shadowing his eyes, the tight line of his jaw, and the subtle, restless movement of his fingers as they twitched against one another.

“You got home earlier than usual,” Gen remarked, breaking the silence.

Matteo responded with a low, noncommittal hum.

“You’re still feeling the effects of the flight, aren’t you?” she pressed gently.

All she received in return was a long, drawn-out sigh that seemed to carry more exhaustion than words could express.

“We’re going to have to come up with a better way to get you through these flights, Matteo,” Gen said thoughtfully, her voice softer now.

He countered with a hint of defensiveness, “It wouldn’t have been an issue if you hadn’t been so reckless.”

“Is that so?” she challenged, a flicker of irritation creeping into her tone.

“Mhmm,” he replied, eyes still closed.

“So, you’d be perfectly fine showing up to the meeting with Michele, negotiating Beatrice’s release, all while hungover and jet-lagged?” Gen asked, her voice sharp, a prickling irritation running down her spine.

Matteo’s eyes snapped open, and his head sagged forward briefly. “It’s never been a problem before.”

“Before when? Before me? Or even earlier than that? What was Frankie talking about?” she demanded, her curiosity piqued despite herself.

Another sigh escaped him, heavy and reluctant, as he reclined back again. “Not now, Gen.”

Gen’s phone buzzed in her pocket. “Paul’s mom called,” she said, watching for any reaction.

At last, something shifted. The corner of Matteo’s mouth twitched upward into a small, genuine smile. It was subtle, but it brightened his otherwise weary expression.

“Did she mention when the funeral will be? I’d like to send some flowers,” Matteo said, chuckling softly.

“No, she didn’t say. But I hope the date doesn’t clash with the other funerals I’ll be attending,” Gen replied dryly.

The smile vanished from Matteo’s face instantly. He sat up straighter, eyes narrowing as he shot a warning glare her way. “Careful.”

“Or what? You’ll throw me against a car hood?” she teased, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Gen,” he said, voice low but firm.

She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. “When’s the funeral tomorrow?”

“Ten,” he answered shortly.

Gen exhaled, mentally ticking off her to-do list. “I’ll have to email Kaitlin to cancel my meeting with Mr. Gaspaldi,” she muttered. “Hopefully Dr. Richards can find a suitable female candidate for you soon so we can wrap this up and go home. I need at least a few hours of sleep if I’m going to survive my first event with you. Of course, the first time I meet all your men has to be at a damn funeral. And I don’t even know if I have an appropriate black dress. Is Jada going?” she asked, glancing back at Matteo.

He was studying her intently, as if she were some rare creature he’d just discovered deep in the Amazon. His lips pressed into a straight line, but there was a spark in his golden-green eyes—bright beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room—that Gen had never noticed before, despite how closely she thought she knew him. Their eyes locked until the door opened, and a woman’s voice cleared the momentary silence. Gen was the first to look away.

“Hi there!” the short blonde woman greeted cheerfully, taking a hearty sip of her coffee as she entered, balancing a silver tray in one hand. “I’m Dr. Wilson,” she introduced herself, setting the tray down on the nearby table. Gen glanced back at Matteo, who still watched her with that same inscrutable expression.

“I’m Genevieve,” Gen replied, half-expecting Matteo to correct her, but he remained silent.

Dr. Wilson moved around the room with brisk efficiency, repeating the examination Dr. Richards had performed earlier while peppering Gen with medical questions.

“When was your last period?” Dr. Wilson inquired.

Gen blushed slightly. “Um, the 25th of last month,” she answered, her voice uncertain despite her normally regular cycle.

“Oh, that means it’s coming up soon, right?” Dr. Wilson said with a light chuckle. As she gently pressed on Gen’s abdomen, she glanced over at Matteo with a playful smirk. “Better enjoy yourself now,” she joked.

Matteo’s dry response made Gen’s cheeks burn even hotter. “I don’t mind a little blood.”

Dr. Wilson laughed heartily. “Lucky girl. Any chance you might be pregnant?”

Gen shook her head firmly. “No, I’m on the pill.”

“Good, good. Everything looks fine here. Have you thought about where you want the chip implanted?” she asked.

Gen hesitated. “Honestly, I didn’t even know I was going to do this until about twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh…” Dr. Wilson turned to Matteo, studying him carefully. “You’re consenting to this, right?” she asked Gen.

Matteo’s eyes flicked to Gen, silently waiting for her answer. She wondered briefly what he’d do if she refused.

“I’m consenting. I agreed to it a long time ago. I just didn’t realize tonight would be the night… though I understand why he suddenly wants to get it done,” she replied diplomatically. Both Matteo and Dr. Wilson visibly relaxed.

“Well, some people choose to have it implanted right behind the ear,” Dr. Wilson explained, lightly touching the skin behind Gen’s ear.

“No, definitely not there. I don’t like the idea of having something electrical in my head,” Gen said quickly, shaking her head.

Dr. Wilson laughed. “It won’t affect your brain or cause headaches. The technology is very advanced and—”

“She said no,” Matteo interrupted firmly.

Dr. Wilson offered Gen a sympathetic smile. “Alright, some people prefer the arm, like a birth control implant,” she suggested, raising her own arm to show the small device beneath her skin.

Gen shook her head again. “No, I hate the idea of feeling it all the time.”

“Put it in her thigh,” Matteo suggested, turning to face them both. “Where I have mine.”

“Okay, that’s possible, but the incision is a bit deeper, and recovery might take a little longer,” Dr. Wilson warned.

“Will I be able to feel it?” Gen asked Matteo.

“Have you ever felt mine?” he replied with a teasing smile.

She shook her head.

“Thigh it is,” she agreed.

Dr. Wilson nodded and instructed Gen to lie flat. First, she would administer a shot to numb the area, then make the incision, insert the chip, and finally stitch her up. Gen looked away as the nurse brought over the long needle. Her fingers clenched the bedsheets tightly until she felt warm fingers wrap around her wrist. She relaxed her grip just enough for Matteo to intertwine their fingers.

The numbing injection was quick, and soon they waited for it to take effect. Once numb, Matteo lowered himself beside her, pulling her close so her head rested against his chest. The sound of his steady heartbeat was soothing as Dr. Wilson carefully made the incision and implanted the chip. Though the entire procedure lasted only about twenty minutes, it felt much shorter with Matteo holding her so protectively.

Afterward, Dr. Wilson prescribed some painkillers and advised Gen to avoid putting too much pressure on her leg for a few days before wishing them luck and leaving the room.

Matteo helped Gen back into her dress and draped his suit jacket over her shoulders. When a nurse arrived with a wheelchair, Matteo refused outright. Instead, he gently scooped her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style through the hospital corridors, her heels dangling from his fingers.

“Before we go…” Gen began hesitantly, earning a curious raise of Matteo’s brow.

“Could we check on Beatrice?” she asked softly.

Matteo looked down at her with that same intense, studying gaze. For a moment, his lips curled upward slightly before he changed direction, turning right down the hall.

“Yes, Gen, we can do that,” he agreed quietly.