Chapter 37
CARMELA
T he wild hysterics give way to numbness. I’m still shaking uncontrollably as I get out of the shower and let Lillete help me into a robe.
I start to hyperventilate the moment I step out of the bathroom and realize Christian has gone.
I want Christian.
“Carmela?”
This isn’t only about tonight.
It’s about all the other nights and times Ettore put his hands on me.
So many times.
“Carmela?” I can hear the stress in her voice.
My chest starts to saw again. “I can’t do this anymore.” I can’t let Ettore touch me again. We all have a limit, and Cosmo has just delivered me to mine.
“What can I do?” Lillette asks. “How can I help?”
I blink furiously.
“The doctor is here. You must be in pain. Will you let her see you?”
Doctor?
Pain?
The words wake me up. I feel inexplicably heavy.
“I need to sit down.”
We’re next to the bed. I don’t have a clue how I came to be here, and I sink heavily onto it.
A knock sounds on the door.
“It’s the doctor,” Lillette says. “Can I let her in?”
She’s asking me if she can, if I want to.
People so rarely ask me what I want.
“Yes.”
The door opens. Lillete returns to the bedside with a female doctor who’s somewhere in her mid-forties, at a guess. I’ve never met her before. But I dare say my husband has resources for times like this.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Lillete asks.
“Would you mind?” My thoughts rush around like they’re in a hurry then forget where they’re going. “That’s if… is Peony all right?”
“She’s with Brigida. Don’t worry about her. And of course I don’t mind.”
“Thank you.” She has a quiet, soothing presence, and just her proximity makes me feel strangely protected.
The doctor introduces herself. She is gentle but efficient, and I appreciate the no-nonsense way she approaches what’s happened to me. It gives me something to grasp onto.
Lillete leaves to fetch me something comfortable to sleep in. The doctor cleans and dresses the bite on my arm and the scratches before covering them with a dressing.
Having them out of sight, hidden, makes me feel better.
Out of sight… if only I could as easily put their making out of mind.
CHRISTIAN
Every light in the house is blazing, and soldiers are everywhere. You would think the Russians had tried to make a hit, not that the don’s brother lost his damn mind.
Jero waits for me at the bottom of the stairs. He would have been the first man sent when Ettore heard something had gone down.
“Where’s Cosmo?” I ask as I reach him. Murderous thoughts are rushing through my mind. Containing them is not fucking easy. I just need to find out where the motherfucker is so I can finish the job. Can’t take the risk that Ettore is confused about what needs to be done because he’s family.
“Been taken to the pool house.”
I start walking. Jero fists my arm. My nostrils flare as I stop and pivot to front up to him. I’m an inch away from punching him in the face.
“Don’t be a twat, mate,” he says, staring me down, reminding me with that look that he’s still the enforcer and I have a lot to learn.
Like I give a fuck? I still want to punch him. “I don’t need you to save me.”
He jerks his head to the side, away from the other men loitering, watching our little face-off.
I yank out of his hold and go where he indicated. He follows on my heels.
The front door opens. A woman is escorted in, and up the stairs—the doctor, I presume. I don’t know her, and I don’t like her being with Carmela while I’m not there.
“Ettore is minutes away,” Jero says, redirecting my focus to him. “You won’t help her if you’re dead. Killing him without the don’s permission will get you dead. You might be toast anyway, depending on what went down. So tell me what happened, and don’t leave anything out.”
I’ve got tunnel vision. I screw my eyes shut, trying to block out the image of her sobbing in the shower. He’s right. I already surmised as much. “I’m already dead. This happened on my watch. At least let me kill the fucker first.”
He cuffs me up the side of the head. His hands are fucking big, and it rattles my brain. “Talk. Now.”
I look down at myself, wet and a little bloody.
I don’t know if it’s hers or his. I’m trapped in a nightmare, and I can’t wake up.
“Cosmo told everyone he was getting a lift with his brother. He didn’t.
I found him on her. On her. His cum was all over her—she’s covered with fucking marks and bites. ”
“And how did you get wet?”
Nope, I’m not going there.
“He’s going to ask, mate.”
I grind my teeth. The front door opens. Footsteps and voices are closing in.
“She wanted his cum off of her. Was tearing into herself and hysterical. So I took her to the shower. Lillete was there.” I’m stretching the truth a bit. Lillete turned up after. “I left.”
He nods.
We both turn to see Ettore enter, flanked by Peter and two more soldiers. He strides straight over to me.
“Where is she? Is she hurt?”
Like you give a fuck, asshole.
Jero steps in and gives him an update. By the time he’s done, Ettore’s jaw is tight, and his eyes are wild.
He rakes his sharp gaze over me, taking in my disheveled clothing and the smears of blood.
I copped a couple of blows in my scuffle with Cosmo, and they’re starting to throb.
I’ve dried a bit… I’m not dripping water, at least.
“Cosmo?”
“In the pool house under guard,” Jero says.
“Wait for me there. I’m going to see my wife.”
CARMELA
The doctor is finalizing the script when the door opens, and Ettore enters.
I catch a glimpse of Roman beyond, and then the door shuts again, and my husband strides around to me. His eyes swing from me to the doctor. “How is she?”
“Your wife has been attacked,” the doctor says bluntly. “There is a great deal of emotional trauma besides the obvious injuries…”
I zone out during the rest of the conversation.
I want Christian.
“… she needs rest.”
A tic thumps in my husband’s jaw. “Please wait for me downstairs.”
The doctor gathers her things and leaves.
Lillete lingers. Ettore’s eyes glisten with a familiar rage. After what’s just happened, his fury is the least of my concerns, but I don’t want to bring Lillette into this. “Thank you, Lillete, for all your help.”
“Not a problem.” She still lingers.
“Lillete can return afterward,” he says. “If you would like that.”
A concession in a man who offers so few causes fresh tears to well in my eyes. “Yes, please.”
Lillete leaves, slipping quietly out of the door. Ettore sits down on the side of the bed.
I flinch.
He sighs, goes to take my hand, and then stops himself.
“I’m sorry.” I crave the numbness—a welcome break from feeling.
The painkillers are working swiftly, but that’s not the kind of numbness I need.
I don’t want my husband, the man I hate, to suddenly show me any kindness.
Words linger on the tip of my tongue—bitter words, a poetry of recriminations—I say none of them.
“Can you ask the doctor for something to make me sleep?”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Carmela, if she’s worried about your breathing. But I will ask.”
A hysterical sob bubbles up.
He mutters a curse. “I’ll deal with my brother,” he says, face stark and tight. “He will never touch you again.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing.
I want Christian.
His hand rests on his thigh, and I watch it curl into a fist before he relaxes it and rises. I can feel him looking down at me, but I can’t meet his eyes.
“Do you want to stay here tonight?”
God, I can’t be in that room and that bed. “Yes.”
“I’ll send Lillete up. Ask her to spend the night with you.”
“Thank you,” I say.
He’s at the door, about to leave.
“Ettore.”
He pauses with his hand on the handle and glances back.
“I’ve never really liked Christian.” There was a time when it was true. I can’t pinpoint exactly when it changed; I only know it did. “But he saved me tonight. Promise me you won’t hurt him. I’ve already been cruel and spiteful enough to him. Please don’t punish him further because of me.”
Do I give too much away with those words?
“I won’t.”
He leaves. A few minutes later, Lillete returns.
CHRISTIAN
The furniture has been shoved aside in the pool house, and plastic sheeting has been laid out. Cosmo is kneeling in the center of the sheeting with his wrists zip-tied at his back. Someone has busted his nose, and both his eyes are turning black. I’m pretty sure that was down to me.
The room is giving off Dexter vibes. And I really like that vibe.
Ettore wouldn’t usually off someone on his own property, but from the looks of things, he’s willing to break that rule for his brother tonight.
There are no less than eight soldiers standing around the room, and they all look like they are waiting for an excuse to put a beating on the shit. Cosmo must sense this because he doesn’t move or offer a peep. His head is down, staring at the ground.
Footsteps approach. The occupants of the room turn collectively as Ettore enters, flanked by Peter and Roman. I’m standing next to Jero, to the right of the doorway, and his eyes seek and rest on me for longer than I’m comfortable with.
“Ettore, thank God,” Cosmo begins, redirecting his brother’s attention.
Ettore walks over to his kneeling younger brother. “Cosmo. You disappoint me. How our late mother would weep.”
“It’s not what you think,” he babbles. “I didn’t…”
Fucking lowlife cretin. I step forward, ready to strangle the fuck. Jero’s arm shoots out to stop me.
I don’t have to worry about Ettore noticing. He’s already fisted his brother’s hair and arched his head up. He clamps his other hand over Cosmo’s jaw, his fingers pressing so deeply into the flesh that it turns white. “Don’t lie to me, Cosmo. Not tonight, not now.”
“I thought you wanted me to… you know.”
I inhale through my teeth.
Ettore punches Cosmo in the face. “Gag him.” He shakes out his hand, stepping back as two of his men surge forward.
Cosmos starts sniveling. It’s fucking pitiful. Snot and tears stream down his bloody face as the soldiers fit him with a gag.
“As if I would ever let a piece of shit like you touch my wife.”
Ettore is pissed. Good. I hope he ends the fuck.
Instead, he turns and looks directly at me. Next thing, he’s walking over to me, not stopping until he’s in my space. I don’t look away. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve always been a good soldier, Christian. One of my best.”
I’m waiting for the ‘but’ as he holds my gaze. Am I going to be on my knees next to Cosmo?
I don’t fucking blink. Bitterness and a side-serve of crazy rise inside me. If I die today, I need to know that Cosmo died first.
“Do you have any weapons on you?”
I shake my head slowly. Jero took my weapons off me before I stepped inside here. He probably didn’t trust me with weapons in a closed space with Cosmo… He wasn’t wrong.
“Your knife, Jero.” Ettore holds out his hand.
Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck does he need Jero’s knife for? The ants wake up again and start swarming. Jero hesitates a fraction of a second before he takes the knife from the sheath at his waist and hands it over.
Ettore’s other hand is still on my fucking shoulder. He turns the knife over, letting the blade catch the light. It’s six inches long, more than enough to do the job. My eyes are glued to it, and my muscles are coiled with tension.
He flips it over in his hand and presents the handle to me.
I blink a few times, looking from him to the handle and back again.
“Go ahead. Take it,” he says.
Is this a test?
He’s standing way too close to me with a lethal weapon in his hand, and now he’s giving it to me. Cosmo is still on his knees, grunting. He’s close, too. I might even be able to end both motherfuckers before anyone takes me down.
Dante is making good headway into his plans. He said they were close, really close.
Is he close enough?
I take the knife, feeling the weight in my palm.
“He’s yours.” He pats my shoulder and steps back. “Do as you will. My only requirement is that he’s no longer breathing by daybreak.”
Cosmo’s grunting ramps up behind his gag.
“Nobody touches my wife, ever.” Gallo steps over to Cosmo again. “Be grateful you’re family. For anyone else, I would make this last for weeks.” He motions to the nearest soldier. “Bring me a chair and a drink. I’m inclined to watch. Christian, the floor is yours.”
He doesn’t need to ask me twice.