Chapter 19 Gio
Gio
Rory’s impromptu visit to the office put me in a foul mood, and I became a one-man wrecking crew, storming about the executive floor and taking out my anger on any employee unfortunate enough to cross my path.
How fucking dare she waltz in here and use our son to try to emotionally manipulate me after colluding with my uncle all these years.
Even worse than her blatant betrayal was that, because I couldn’t stand his mother, I would never get to feel what it was like to have my son press against my hand from within the womb.
She’d robbed me of an experience I’d been eagerly awaiting for months, ever since Rory mentioned those first flutters back in Colorado.
“My office. Now,” Matteo barked at me after one of the girls from accounting ran crying from the shared kitchen because I threatened to fire her for wasting perfectly good coffee beans when she burned the espresso she attempted to make.
Stomping behind my little brother, I muttered under my breath that if he wasn’t careful, I’d fire his ass too.
Not bothering to turn around, Matteo huffed, “Be my fucking guest.”
He paused on the threshold of his office, extending a hand, indicating that I should precede him inside. When I did, I stopped short, finding Enzo reclined in one of the chairs opposite the desk.
I scoffed. “What the fuck is this? An intervention?”
“No.” Matteo shut the door. “Though you could certainly use one.”
I walked to the wet bar to help myself to his personal stash of expensive scotch. “Listen, if this is about Cindy,” I began.
“Courtney,” Matteo corrected.
“Whatever her name is, I’m sure she’d be willing to forgive our little altercation with double her annual Christmas bonus.”
My brother hummed. “If we’re in the habit of buying forgiveness, what number shall I write on the check to secure Rory’s?”
Back molars grinding to dust, I bit out, “Keep that traitor’s name out of your mouth.”
“Little hard to do when Summer spends every waking moment over at your house taking care of her because you’ve all but abandoned your pregnant wife.”
As I threw my arms wide, the brown liquor in my glass splashed against the wall.
“You wanna talk about being abandoned? Have you forgotten that she’s the one who fucking left me?
Or how she decided to join up with the uncle who’s trying to destroy everything we’ve built?
She’s not the victim here. Not even close. ”
Matteo pursed his lips together in disapproval. “All I’m saying is, if she were my daughter—”
“She’s not your daughter, though. But she is my wife, so I’m the one who gets to decide how I handle her from this point forward. Your opinions on the matter aren’t needed or wanted. Is that understood?”
Enzo muttered, “Four years was almost enough time to forget how much of an asshole you can be.”
“Don’t start,” I snapped in his direction.
My cousin rolled his eyes, rising from his seat and buttoning his suit jacket. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Boss.” On his way toward the door, he said to Matteo, “Have fun beating your head against a wall.”
Once Enzo was gone, my brother dropped onto his desk chair with a sigh. “You’re angry, I get that. You have every right to be.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?” I hedged.
Not one to disappoint, he said, “But you have to consider that Dario had a hand in raising us. He knows all our weaknesses and how to play them to achieve maximum impact. It’s never been a secret that you value loyalty above all else.
What better way to tear us apart from within than to imply he’s been working hand-in-hand with your estranged wife in his quest to unseat you in front of all your men? ”
I arched an eyebrow. “You think he was lying?”
Matteo lifted one shoulder. “I’m saying it’s a possibility, yes. And until you actually sit down and talk to Rory, let her explain her side of things, you’ll never know for sure.”
Dragging a hand down my face, I groaned. “This whole thing is a fucking mess.”
“War isn’t known for being neat and tidy.”
“Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would come down to this.”
He pulled in a deep breath. “Count yourself lucky that you’re alive to see it at all. If it weren’t for his countless failed attempts, both of us would already be dead.”
A heavy silence descended upon us at the reminder that while we remained standing, far too many others had been cut down in the prime of their lives because of Dario’s overthrow campaign. Most notable among them, Matteo’s first wife, Allegra.
“Has there been any progress in uncovering the documents that would prove Nico’s legitimacy as Dario’s heir?” I asked, returning my focus to the threat to our family.
My brother nodded, leaning forward to type on his keyboard before turning the monitor in my direction.
“Nico did a hell of a job burying this, making it damn near impossible to find after we eliminated his entire team, but here you can see the Italian marriage certificate between Dario and a Stefania Manzo, six months before Nico and Arianna Manzo were born, with Dario listed as the father on the birth certificate.”
“Fuck. All those trips back to Verona when we were growing up. He was going to see them.” Then something clicked, and I saw red. “Nico came to us two months before Rory disappeared. You can’t tell me that’s a coincidence.”
Matteo grimaced, his case for my wife’s innocence taking a major hit. “I’ll admit, it’s unlikely. Especially when he’s the one who pulled the security feeds at Enzo’s request.”
I shoved to my feet, molten hot rage coursing through my veins. “I swear to God, as soon as she gives birth—”
My words were cut off by a loud bang, and I spun around to find the door swinging on its hinges, having recently cracked against the wall with the force with which it had been opened. At the open threshold stood Enzo, his cell phone poised inches from his ear, his expression grim.
I knew that look. He was about to tell us someone was dead.
Unfortunately, until we took down Dario and put an end to this internal war, news of casualties among our men was going to become a common occurrence.
But our priority had to remain on putting that bastard in the ground, so there wouldn’t be time to mourn the losses.
For now, all we could do was ensure their families were well taken care of and then soldier on.
“Who?” I asked wearily, exhausted just thinking about how many lives my uncle would cost us.
Enzo’s hazel eyes darted between Matteo and me. “It’s the girls.”
With my heart in my throat, I turned to find my brother had gone as white as a sheet, gripping the edge of his desk like that was the only thing keeping him upright.
When he opened his mouth to speak, only a strangled noise came out.
He’d already been through the hell of losing a wife; if one of his little girls had been taken to Heaven too soon, I wasn’t sure he would survive it.
Taking it out on the messenger, I snapped, “We need names. Now!”
Swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed along his throat, my cousin rasped, “Summer and Rory.”
My knees threatened to buckle. “What? How?”
Enzo pulled in a deep breath before relaying the details. “Bombing at Valentina Morello while they were inside. We think it was a targeted attack.”
“Are—” Matteo’s voice broke. “Are they . . .”
With a firm shake of his head, Enzo replied, “They’re both alive.
But I can’t say the same for their security detail.
We need to get down to Windy City General.
Allie called me crying, saying paramedics had brought them there.
Summer’s got a nasty gash on her forehead, but Rory—” He paused before continuing, “She’s unconscious, covered in blood. ”
Reacting on pure instinct, my feet were already moving. By the time I reached the elevator, Enzo and Matteo had joined me.
I slammed my palm against the chrome doors that hadn’t opened yet. “What the fuck is taking so long?”
A hand landed on my arm, accompanied by my brother’s voice. “It’s only been thirty seconds.”
Hanging my head, I choked out, “She’s pregnant, Matteo. What if—” I couldn’t finish that sentence, too afraid that I might speak the unthinkable into existence.
“I know.” His voice came out thick, likely reliving the time that he’d rushed to the hospital after receiving the news of his own pregnant wife being in an accident, only to get there and find out that only the baby had survived. “The doctors are going to do everything they can. For both of them.”
The sliding doors parted at the exact moment it hit me that I wasn’t just worried about the baby. The idea of losing Rory was . . . unimaginable. Which didn’t make any fucking sense, when only a few minutes ago, I’d wanted her dead. Now it made me sick to my stomach that I might get my wish.
When we reached the garage beneath the building, I bolted for my SUV, leaving the security team stationed there scrambling to climb into cars and follow me as I peeled out, tires squealing.
The drive was an absolute blur to the point where I was only vaguely aware of running several red lights in my rush to get to Rory. Pulling up to the emergency room doors, I jumped out, ignoring the shouts from behind that I couldn’t park in the ambulance bay.
Reaching the reception desk, out of breath with my pulse pounding in my ears, I huffed out, “Rory Bellini.”
“Oh, Lord. Not this again,” came the groaned reply from the woman behind the desk—the same one who’d been here the last time Rory was brought into the ER.
Narrowing my eyes, I gritted out, “I don’t have time for your administrative power trip. Tell me where my wife is. Now.”
She straightened her spine. “Why don’t you tone down the entitlement that comes with your last name and the amount of money you donate to this hospital, and try again?”
A disbelieving laugh spilled from my lips. “You know what? Fuck this.”