4. Matteo
Matteo
They were keeping Bianca overnight in the pediatric unit at Windy City General for observation. The doctors explained this was primarily out of precaution but warned that secondary issues associated with a near-drowning could present up to twelve hours after the incident.
My girl was extra clingy, demanding to be held, so I found myself curled up beside her on the hospital bed as she snoozed, wiped out from all that had happened earlier.
I was seconds away from passing out myself when a voice crooned from the doorway, “Well, isn’t this adorable?”
Lifting my heavy head, I glared at Enzo as he sauntered closer. “Wake her, and I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
Concern filtered into his gaze as it swept over Bianca. “She gonna be all right?”
Swallowing, I nodded. “Yeah. Thank God.”
“Good.” His chest expanded on a deep breath. Lifting a manila folder, he waved it gently. “Got what you asked for.”
Gently, I untangled myself from my sleeping daughter and climbed off the bed. With a curl of my fingers, I demanded, “Hand it over.”
Enzo didn’t hesitate, passing over the file he’d compiled on the girl who’d not only saved my daughter’s life but had captivated me from the very second I’d laid eyes on her.
Never. Not once in life had I been rendered speechless by the sight of any woman.
My visceral reaction was mildly unsettling and had shaken me to the core. When she ran off and I realized I might never see her again, my lungs had seized, and I knew I needed to track her down. For what? I wasn’t quite sure.
Hell, I didn’t even know her full name, and I couldn’t get her out of my brain.
I opened the file, and there in black and white was everything I could ever want to know about one Summer Reynolds.
“Wasn’t hard to find her,” Enzo remarked. “The license plate on the car she drove was registered to Silvio D’Amico. Turns out he bought it for his daughter Gabriella, who, according to Francesca, was the one they were expecting to be the lifeguard for the party.”
Huffing out a laugh, I said, “That’s who she claimed to be when I asked for a name. What’s her connection to the D’Amico girl?”
“Current roommate. Former teammate on the swim team at Northwestern.”
I hummed. It made sense that both girls would be lifeguards.
It also explained those muscular thighs I couldn’t help but stare at with her kneeling opposite me earlier.
Fuck, I bet they were so strong I wouldn’t even need to hold her up with them locked around my waist, her back pinned against a wall, as I pounded ruthlessly between them.
A chuckle broke through my lust-induced daydream. “Oh boy, I know that look.”
Playing it off, I scoffed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Enzo rocked back on his heels, teasing, “Sure you don’t, Boss.” A smirk curved onto his lips. “Care to explain your sudden interest in the girl, then?”
My chin jerked toward the hospital bed. “She saved Bianca’s life. I owe her a debt.”
The humor on his face faded away, replaced by a grim expression. “Yeah, I suppose you do. Not sure how you’re gonna pull that one off, though. A life for a life usually means taking one. In this case, you owe her a life.”
“Haven’t gotten that far yet,” I confessed, scanning the printed documents in my hands.
There had to be something here. Some way I could repay her. Hopefully, in a way that would put her directly in my path.
I cataloged every bit of information about Summer Reynolds.
She was twenty-two years old, born on July 16 th .
She had no father listed on her birth certificate. Mother Trina Reynolds resided in a trailer park in a rural part of southern Illinois, with a record of accepting government assistance, which had dried up considerably once Summer turned eighteen.
There were several snapshots of records she’d broken at various swim clubs as a youth and preteen, but there weren’t any from high school.
She’d been a student-athlete at Northwestern, where she joined the swim team as a walk-on while earning a degree in communications.
That’s where I hit paydirt.
She was sitting on two hundred thousand dollars in student loans.
From what I could tell, the six-month grace period on repayment had ended last month, and she’d already failed to make her first payment.
Couldn’t say I was exactly surprised when I saw the pay stubs from the diner she worked at in the South Side of Chicago.
It was a miracle she could afford to pay rent, let alone eat, with how little she earned.
That kind of cash was a drop in the bucket for me, but for Summer, it would be life changing. The shackles of debt would be instantly released, and she would be set free. Some might even say it would save her life.
Closing the file, I handed it to Enzo with a command. “Pay off her student loans.”
He whistled low, shaking his head. “Damn, I didn’t even think of that. Fucking genius.”
“Make sure she knows exactly where the money came from.”
Absolving her massive debt anonymously wouldn’t do me any good. I wanted a paper trail that would lead her directly back to me.
Because I wasn’t done with Summer Reynolds. Not even close.
The casino staff were seated in a line of metal chairs, their eyes wide as I paced before them inside the concrete room.
Their fear hung so thick in the air, it was a wonder I didn’t choke on it when I sucked in a deep breath before announcing, “Someone has been stealing from me.”
Several gasps rang out, like the mere idea of taking from the Bellinis was unimaginable.
Luckily for them, I knew exactly who had been skimming off the top, but I wasn’t about to let them know that and ruin the little show I had planned.
Especially, when its main objective was to scare the rest of them shitless so they never got the same idea into their heads.
Sometimes, it was better to be feared than loved. And this was one of those times.
Stopping dead in my tracks, I took the time to look each one of them in the eye. “Seven. Hundred. Thousand. Dollars.”
A couple of the men set before me visibly paled when they heard the amount that had been taken.
It was a hefty sum, but when we pulled in upwards of thirty million a month, that idiot Dante probably thought it wouldn’t be missed when we checked the books.
Too bad for him, I had a much sharper eye for finance than my older brother.
It likely would have taken Gio far longer to notice the siphoning of funds, and the amount taken might’ve grown even larger as a result.
“Do any of you feel like you’re unfairly compensated?” I challenged, eyebrow arched.
Everyone present shook their heads, murmuring various sentiments that they were more than adequately paid, that they were loyal to the Bellinis.
“Hmm.” I shook my head, clicking my tongue in disappointment. “If that were true, then I wouldn’t be missing money, now, would I?”
My eyes locked on Dante’s. A line of sweat trickled down from his temple, but other than that, he didn’t make a move to give himself away.
Honestly, I was surprised no one had tried to run. They weren’t tied down, and the imminent promise of punishment—of death—was enough to have anyone’s fight-or-flight response kicking in, regardless of whether or not they were guilty. It was human nature to prioritize self-preservation.
But I had to give credit to those who kept their asses firmly planted in their chairs.
They’d been trained well enough to know there was no escape, and it would bring disgrace to their families if they were labeled as cowards.
And family was everything. These men would do just about anything to protect their loved ones.
“Should the thief among you wish to step forward, I will grant mercy,” I promised. Though I wasn’t offering absolution, I would provide a quick death instead of one drawn out to inflict maximum pain.
Not a one of them moved a muscle.
“Very well. The hard way, it is.”
Taking my time, I rolled up my shirt sleeves. Then, I crossed both arms over my chest, staring them down for a solid minute before saying, “If you hear your name, move to the wall behind me.” I let a beat of silence pass. “Massimo, Sonny, Vinny, Guilio, Sal, and Rafe.”
Without delay, those six men scrambled from their seats, crossing the room as fast as their legs would carry them, their relief palpable.
Only two chairs remained occupied. One held Dante. The other held Carlo.
Obviously, I knew Carlo was innocent, but I wanted to give Dante one more chance to come clean.
“Gentlemen.” I shook my head as I approached them. “What is it they always say? Speak now or forever hold your peace?” Chuckling darkly, I corrected, “Or in this case, forever burn in Hell.”
Carlo’s throat bobbed on a thick swallow, and he rasped, “Sir, I didn’t have anything to do with the missing money, I swear. Check the logs! I always deposit the correct amount every night.”
My lips pressed into a thin line, my gaze shifting toward Dante. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”
Dante merely lifted his chin defiantly. If I hadn’t already known he was our thief, that would have given him away. Rats didn’t talk; they knew they were dead either way.
“Carlo, to the wall,” I commanded with a jerk of my chin.
A stuttered exhale preceded the sound of his hasty footsteps headed in the opposite direction.
“Dante, Dante, Dante.” His name rolled off my tongue like I was chastising a naughty child. “Was it worth it?”
His upper lip pulled back in a sneer. “Just get it over with already.”
“Nice to see you’re ready to welcome death, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait a little while longer,” I taunted.
With a single snap of my fingers, my men moved in to tie Dante to the metal chair bolted to the ground. Like an animal, he scratched and attempted to bite his captors, unwilling to go down without a fight—a fight he was guaranteed to lose.
Once he was properly secured, I got right up in his face. “Where’s my money?”