Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Romeo
I slam my fist into the bag.
Left, right, left, right….
Music blares in the basement of the Glass, my main office. No one else is allowed down here, which is good because I may use them as my punching bag instead.
It's been four weeks without my wife, four weeks without the woman who consumes me, and four weeks since the monster was released.
I've lost count of the number of people I've killed over the past month, but one thing is for sure, if my enemies believed I'd gotten weak because of my wife, they don't any longer.
Everyone stays clear of me nowadays, which is how I like it.
Left, right, left, right….
Smacks echo in the room, sweat dripping down my bare chest.
I feel like I can't breathe.
I'm struggling to fucking live without El. I've gone from a man who didn't want an arranged marriage to a man needing his wife to even make rational decisions.
Yesterday, I walked out of the shower down here after a few hours of kicking the shit out of the bag to have a naked employee throw herself at me. Aimee is someone I fucked a few times before I met El, she works at the front desk and stupidly tried her luck after news leaked that Damian attacked El.
I'd just finished wrapping a towel around my waist when Aimee smashed her body against mine. Nothing but disgust filled me, and without thinking, I twisted her neck and killed her instantly, before messaging Christian, a Made Man and guard here at Glass, to dispose of her body.
I'm fucking slipping, and fast.
The longer El stays in the coma, the worse I become, knowing the chances of her waking up are growing slimmer. I can't even be happy that our son is doing well.
Thirty-six weeks, and he's healthy, so far showing no signs of distress, and if he were to be born right now, he'd be alright, but I wouldn't be.
I hit the bag harder, grunting.
My son doesn't even have a name yet, and El should be the first person to hold him, not me, her mother, or mine, but she can't hold him because she won't wake up.
The doctor explained that there was some brain activity and was unsure why she wouldn't wake up. The swelling has gone down, she no longer has a tube down her throat, and she is now breathing on her own, yet she won't wake up.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," my father mutters as I hit the bag again.
"Yeah," I grunt, and snap, "Well, you found me," without stopping my assault.
He sighs at my snappy tone. "Go shower, Romeo. We're taking a drive."
I snort, my right fist smashing into the bag, not stopping.
He does this every fucking day. He'll find me and demand we go for a drive. Sometimes I'll give in, and we'll end up at the hospital where I don't get out of the car, still unable to go inside that room.
I'm aware of my wife's condition; the doc calls several times a day with updates….
"I'm not going," I growl as I grab the bag, looking at my father.
He has bags beneath his eyes and, for once, he’s not in a suit, but instead in a t-shirt and jeans.
I blink. "You look fucking weird…."
He chuckles, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Yeah, well, I didn't see the point in wearing a suit when I know it'll crinkle."
I raise a brow at him. "Think you can take me, old man?"
He smirks. "I taught you everything you know, Romeo, so if I'm telling you to get your ass in the shower and get dressed, you're going to do it." He swallows, then adds, "Everyone is concerned about you…."
I huff. "Well, they shouldn't be…."
Papa snaps, "You are killing random people, Romeo,"
I growl, "The bitch threw herself at me, and this morning I discovered she was blackmailing half the fucking men employed here…."
He tuts. "You're doing it carelessly. You have a son who's about to be born and needs you.…"
I glare. "He needs his mother, not me."
Papa looks at me with sadness, and I hate it. I turn around, and he sighs, "Please, Romeo."
I squeeze my eyes shut, my hands gripping the bag as blood drips from them.
I forgot to tape them again…shit.
Growling, I shove the bag away and storm to the bathroom, not looking back at my father.
Might as well get this over and done with.
It only takes me ten minutes to get showered and dressed before we head to his car. I expected to see his driver, but instead, he slips behind the wheel of an SUV.
He hates driving in the city….
I don't let the emotion show on my face.
Papa drives around the bustling streets of New York City for a few hours, not saying anything, before he pulls up at the hospital, making me sigh.
He puts the car in PARK, and sighs, running his tatted hand through his hair before rasping, "You haven't gone into the room." I don't say anything or react, my eyes on the hospital. “You'll stand outside her door for no more than five minutes before leaving again. She's your wife, Romeo…."
I give him a sharp glare and snap, "I'm well aware of that, Papa, but she's also my fucking tether to this earth. I can't go in that room because I know if she dies, then I fucking die, and I instantly feel fucking guilty because of the child in her belly, the child I ensured she'd get pregnant with!"
Papa's eyes widen. "You'd do that, leave your child?"
I shake my head, leaning it back against the headrest. "Tell me something, Papa, if Mamma was to die tomorrow?—"
He cuts in, "I'd be going with her."
I look at him and raise a brow, and he sighs.
"I can't live without her, Papa. I spent years getting her to love me, months proving to her that I love her…." I chew the inside of my cheek and admit, "I love my son, and I'm excited that he's coming into the world, but I'll be no father if I lose El. I would ruin his childhood, and I know I wouldn't be able to look at him without thinking of her. If she dies, I die….”
Papa looks at me with tears in his eyes, and I have to look away, not able to bear his pain when mine is destroying me.
He's quiet for a few minutes, then rasps, " Il mio ragazzo —" but is cut off when my phone rings.
Sighing, I grab it from my pocket but furrow my brows when I see that it's Aldo, who hasn’t left the hospital, determined to watch over El.
Fuck, did she finally wake up?
"Aldo?" I answer with concern, not allowing hope to build.
"Fuck, Romeo, you need to get here now. Agy just tried to kill El," he rasps, and I hang up, slamming out of the SUV, my father following as we sprint into the hospital.
We head straight for the stairs, and run up the four floors before getting to El's floor. We can hear screaming and shouting and instantly I see several doctors running into the room.
We follow, and nothing but chaos ensues. The machines are beeping loudly, Mikhail has hold of a screaming Agy, who is begging for forgiveness, while Marcus, who swaps with Ray every other day, is trying to hold Anastasia back as she tries to grab her sister, threatening to kill her, as Aldo looks at El with horror and pain.
I ignore them and look to the bed to see the doctors and nurses removing wires, unhooking everything from the bed, and I panic.
"What's happening, please…."
I can't lose her, I can't….
"We have to deliver; the baby is in distress," the doctor says in a rush as he pushes the bed out of the room.
I go running after them, but Aldo grips my shoulder tightly, Papa grabbing the other one at the doctor’s words, "Give me five minutes, and a nurse will bring you into the OR.”
This can't be fucking happening….
"Please, I-I had to avenge Liliya; she killed her, please," Agy pleads, sobbing.
"You didn't fucking want her. You got pregnant for a fucking title, to try and steal your own sister's man!" Anastasia screams back.
Fury builds, and I fist my hands.
"Please, I had to do it. I didn't want to burn in hell for not doing it," Agy tries again.
The stupid bitch was part of a cult growing up, something her sister stayed cleared of. I just thought Agy grew out of it. Clearly fucking not….
Turning, I walk over to her, and her eyes widen, seeing my fury, all on her, knowing what I've been capable of lately.
Without giving any regard to where I am or who I'm with, I grab her head, and twist. Her body goes limp in Mikhail's hold, and he drops her.
"What the fuck, Romeo? That's the second time you've not given me the opportunity…." His words die off when I shoot him a hard glare.
She's my wife; he sold her to me. He knows he doesn't have a fucking say in anything.
He glares back. "You haven't even been in the fucking room with her, Romeo…."
I sneer back, "Because I can't fucking live without her, Mikhail, and if she dies, I fucking die ."
His eyes widen, and I move back, heading out of the room, disregarding everyone, including the dead body. Before I can get far Anastasia shouts, "It should be me in the room, not you. You're not in the right frame of mind."
I turn and face her, and she flinches as I state, "Sure, why not put the woman who abused her for years in the room with her when my son is born. Stay the fuck away from my wife."
Tears fall down her cheeks, but I ignore them. I meet the nurse near the desk before she guides me toward the OR, passing me some scrubs.
I get dressed and go to the large room she pointed at, only to pause. My wife lays on the table, arms out, a sheet covering her from her neck to where several doctors are, beeping echoing in the room.
Very slowly, I walk over to her, tears blurring my vision.
Gently, I lean down, place my lips against her forehead, and rasp, "Keep fighting, farfalla …."
I kiss her again when I hear it, a cry that instantly soothes me. I look up to see the doctor handing my son to a nurse who takes him to the other side of the room ,and cleans him up. He cries the whole time. She brings him my way and gives me a kind smile, then hands me my son, who is wrapped in a light blue blanket.
Almost instantly, he stops crying and looks up at me. Tears slip from my eyes.
He's fucking perfect, a mixture of me and El.
Guilt burns inside me. I don't want to leave him, but I know if El dies, then I will, and that fucking hurts me. But I'm selfish, I always have been where his mamma is concerned….