Chapter 22 Gio
Gio
“Don’t tell me you’re waiting up for Santa, because I have bad news.” Rory’s lips brushed against the side of my neck from behind.
With my eyes fixed on the roaring fire in the darkened room, I captured the hand she’d placed on my shoulder and tugged her around the chair to sit on my lap. Cosmo trailed behind her, coming to rest at my feet.
That dog hadn’t left her side since I’d sent one of my men to retrieve him from Colorado. It was a damn good thing the beast had retreated back to the junkyard where I’d originally found him or who knows if we’d have been able to track him down.
My wife curled against my chest, sighing. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Mmm.”
While the war we waged with my uncle was more than enough to keep me up most nights, that wasn’t the reason for my insomnia this evening. Like it was drawn by a magnet, my hand fell to her belly, my fingers spreading wide over where our son grew.
Blowing out a breath, I spoke aloud the question plaguing my mind. “What if I fuck all this up?”
Rory lifted her head, brow furrowed. “Fuck what up?”
“Fatherhood. Children thrive on love, and that’s a weakness I can’t afford. Not now, not when we’re locked in a battle that determines our survival.”
Silence stretched between us as she stared at me unblinkingly after my confession.
Finally, Rory said, “Love isn’t something you can turn on and off when it suits you. If it were, I wouldn’t get butterflies in my belly every time I look at you.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “You love me?”
Her lips pulled inward, and she shook her head. “I love John. You happen to have his face.”
A disappointment I didn’t understand settled deep within my bones. “Right. How could I forget?”
“Is this the part where you remind me that he’s not real?”
My eyes slid shut, my head falling back against the chair. “What do you want me to say, Rory?”
“Answer me this: what would have happened if this baby had been a girl?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Try me.”
When I peeked down at her, I saw the determination written in her blue eyes. She wasn’t about to let this drop, even if it was for her own good to do so.
“Fine. We would have stayed in Colorado, and I would have done everything in my power to keep getting you pregnant until we finally had a boy.”
She shuddered in my arms. “For the purposes of this discussion, I’m going to pretend you didn’t sound exactly like my father just now. Instead, I want to focus on the part where your plan could have resulted in a big family before you had the chance to reveal your true identity.”
“Okay . . .” I had no idea where she was going with this.
“You’re going to sit there and tell me that you wouldn’t have loved that gaggle of little girls? The ones who stared up at you like you’d hung the moon, their personal hero, their daddy?”
I dragged a hand down my face, groaning. “I don’t know, Rory. We’ll never know, because that’s not what happened. We got our boy and came home.”
She pulled in a deep breath before trying again. “Do you ever think about who you could have been if you hadn’t been born to lead? If you’d been some regular guy?”
“There’s no point in wondering because I can’t change who I am.”
“What if John and Gio are two sides of the same coin, and that part of your personality was more than just an act?”
“Rory.” Her name came out on a weary exhale. “You can’t live your life in ‘what-ifs’.”
She shifted on my lap, moving to straddle me so she could take my face in her hands, her forehead dropping to mine.
“I catch glimpses of him sometimes, you know. Like the night you drew me a bath after the bombing.” Wetness hit my cheeks, and I realized she was crying.
“I miss him. And I’m not giving up hope that he’ll come back to me. ”
“That was a private moment, contained within these walls,” I conceded, stroking her cheeks with my thumbs, wiping the moisture away. “It would be suicide to give in to those impulses in public.”
“Show the world whoever you want, but I’m begging you to channel that softer side when you come home to me and our son. Your brother manages the different parts of his life; why can’t you?”
“I can’t make any promises,” I began.
Rory pressed her lips to mine. “All I ask is that you try.”
It was asking a lot—almost too much—but she was right.
Our son deserved better than the militant upbringing I’d received.
My father had been strict, unyielding in demanding obedience, even when Matteo and I were barely old enough to tie our own shoes.
We were raised to be soldiers, to not flinch in the face of danger.
Hell, I’d barely balked when it came time for my first kill.
I met every expectation required of a future don without fail.
I went out of my way to never give him a reason to doubt me as his heir and successor.
But love . . . it was outright terrifying.
And I didn’t mean the part that required you to surrender your heart to someone else, giving them the power to keep it safe or crush it beneath their heel.
No, what scared the living shit out of me was that my enemies would use it as a tool to bring me to my knees.
Were Rory and Luca worth the risk?
“This is unacceptable!” I screamed, the crack of my palm meeting wood deafening in the silence as I glared at the eight capos seated around the table.
“We’ve got Dario outmanned ten to one, yet he continues to get the jump on us.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think those of you whose fathers have teamed up with the enemy are hedging their bets, playing both sides, ensuring their safety and survival no matter who ends up winning. ”
My gaze honed in on Al, Vince, Ricky, and Stefano, who were conveniently seated side by side.
All four men uttered various sentiments that they were loyal to me and only me, but I had my doubts. Especially when my uncle and his cronies were systematically exploiting our weak spots, dismantling the empire my father and grandfather had built here in America.
At this point, the only people I could trust were Matteo and Enzo.
“You know what? It’s not worth the risk.”
Lightning-quick, I whipped out the gun tucked into the back of my waistband and fired off four rounds. A bullet pierced through the foreheads of each man I suspected as moles, and they slumped in their chairs, eyes gone lifeless.
Given my current position, I would rather kill one hundred innocent men rather than let one traitor walk free.
To their credit, the remaining four capos hadn’t moved a muscle, sitting silently while their counterparts were brutally executed.
I turned to address them. “One of you better have a lead on Dario.”
Gennaro Maggio spoke up. “The security tapes show he’s got people sniffing around the casino, but we haven’t been successful in capturing any of them. It’s almost as if there’s a delay in our feed.”
“Fucking Nico,” I cursed under my breath.
Although the O’Malleys had lent us their best tech guys to lock my newly discovered cousin out of the internal system, none of them were a match for Nico. We knew from experience that he could hack pretty much anything, and creating a time delay in our security feed would be child’s play for him.
“Maybe we should consider shutting down the casino,” Matteo suggested. “In case it becomes his next target. We can’t risk high-profile civilians getting caught in the crossfire.”
I’d lost count of the number of businesses of ours that had been annihilated over the past month.
The most recent hit had been Euphoria, our nightclub, and despite the hefty insurance payout we were set to receive, the loss of daily profits while we rebuilt would be substantial.
Dario was systematic, upping the ante with each attack, but the casino . . . that would be taking it too far.
I shook my head. “He’s not stupid enough to destroy that cash cow netting eight figures a month on the off-chance he wins this war.”
Matteo wasn’t so convinced, arguing, “The last time I spoke to him in person, he was going on and on about how we needed to pivot away from underground gambling. He was practically salivating, with dollar signs in his eyes, just thinking about shifting our focus toward prostitution and drugs. The casino doesn’t matter to him, but taking out our crown jewel could sway our allies who’ve been holding back their support, waiting to see which way the wind is going to blow in this feud. ”
“Or, he’s hoping that we do exactly as you suggest and clear the building, leaving how many million in the vault? Not enough to break us, but plenty to seed his new ventures.”
Enzo chimed in, “I mean, he has stolen from the casino before . . .”
“The doors stay open,” I declared. “But I want men stationed at the vault 24/7, double the number patrolling around the perimeter of the building, and more armed guards on the floor.”
My brother shot me a look that said he disagreed with my decision, but kept his mouth shut. He would never undermine my authority in front of our men.
“Anything else to report?” I asked the table.
There was a chorus of “no sirs” in response.
I gestured to the bodies of the capos who’d been relieved of duty this afternoon. “Once this is cleaned up, you can go home.” Then I spun on my heel, heading for the exit with Matteo and Enzo flanking me on either side.
“Have you forgotten we have people who can handle that?” Enzo jerked his chin over his shoulder.
“I’m hoping the reminder of what’s at stake—all of our lives—will be enough to light a fire under their asses. We’re losing ground—and men—far faster than any of us could have anticipated. If this goes on for too much longer, I fear there will be nothing left to pass on to my son.”
“Speaking of . . .” Matteo hopped into the backseat of the waiting SUV beside me. “How’s Rory holding up?”
Head dropping back against the seat as we began to roll down the city street, I breathed out, “Tired, cranky as hell, and going stir-crazy not being able to leave the house.”