25. Ravenna
Ravenna
“ I f you could find the man who kidnapped her, then she wouldn’t be terrified all the time,” I tell Cian over breakfast, as I sip my Earl Grey latte.
“She might leave her room, or even the house. She can’t go on living like this.
Are there any clues? Any leads? It’s been weeks since Elle’s moved in with us. ”
Even though our honeymoon is long over, we’re still in that phase.
Enjoying each other’s company, we take breakfast in the privacy of our room every morning.
I love having Cian all to myself for a while before he goes to work.
Which he does for a few hours before we have lunch.
And by lunch , I mean mid-afternoon sex in his office.
My husband’s insatiable appetite matches mine.
Since that morning he accidentally tried to strangle me to death, we haven’t spoken of it again.
Not because we’re trying to avoid the subject.
If anything, an easiness has entered our relationship, a harmony that wasn’t there before.
We’re open with each other. Real with each other in a way that has my heart singing every single moment we’re together.
Cian sighs. “Whoever he is, he’s gone. Vanished without a trace, and we haven’t heard so much as a rumor about him. I’m sorry. There’s nothing more we can do.”
“Didn’t the apartment give you any clues? What about the police report?” I’m unwilling to let this go. We need answers.
“All we found out was that the apartment was rented under the name of the dead man. Police identified him, and we looked into his background. For all the good that did. Turns out he was dying of a terminal illness, on one last vacation here to New York City before he died. The man was from California. He had no connections to any gang or criminal organization. No one has any idea how he ended up involved in Elena’s kidnapping.
The place was wiped clean. No prints or anything to tell us who the other man was.
Any trail he might have left has gone cold by now. ”
I set my cup down. “That’s just… frustrating. Are you sure it’s where my sister was held captive?”
“I saw the cage they kept her in.” He grimaces. “For now, there’s nothing more we can do. I’m sorry. Of course we’ll be vigilant, but that’s all we can do for now. I’m sure the bastard will come at us again, another way next time, and that’s when we’ll catch him.”
“Are you telling me there’s nothing to do now but wait?” I don’t know how long I can remain on pins and needles.
“That’s right. I’m sorry, for all of our sakes.”
Disappointment hits me right in the chest. If there’s nothing more we can do, then that means Elena will live the rest of her life in fear of pretty much everything. Fear of being taken and held hostage again, of being used as a pawn to get to one of us. Fear of leaving the house. Of living a life.
That’s unacceptable. But what do I do now?
“Is that therapist doing her any good?” he asks, sucking on a piece of orange.
I shrug. “Not that I can tell, but these things take time. It could be months or even years before she sees the benefits.”
Cian grunts.
“Although…” Considering an idea, I chew on a piece of toast. “All of her bad memories are tied to this city. What if we get her out of here, far away from this place? Maybe give her a new identity and put her somewhere safer? Do you think that would make a difference?”
“It could. It’s worth a try.” He eyes me. “Where would she go?”
I don’t even have to think about it, the answer’s that obvious. “Italy. We have a lot of family there. Enough that she could blend in and disappear among them all. I’m sure someone would be willing to take her in for a while.”
“If that’s what you think she needs, then I’ll have the jet fueled up and ready to go. Just say the word.”
I smile like a love-sick fool, unable to hold back how happy this man makes me. He always says the right thing. Does the right thing. And it’s all for me and those I care most about.
Am I falling in love with my husband?
“Why are you smiling like that?” he asks, right as my phone chimes with multiple texts.
“You. You make me happy.” I pick up the device, and groan.
“What is it? Someone I need to kill?” He teases.
I roll my eyes at him, but inside, my stomach flutters. “No one to kill—except maybe Sophia’s fiancé. She’s texting me about their date last night. The man either ignores her or criticizes her for what she eats. I want to punch Nikolai Kozlov in the face.”
Cian laughs, a sound I immensely enjoy every time I hear it. “Do you want me to start a war with the Russians for your cousin’s sake?”
“Absolutely not. You’re unhinged,” I mutter with a smile.
He flashes me a wolfish grin, then drags my chair across the floor until I’m as close to him as possible. “I’m unhinged for you, broc meala. ”
His seductive kiss causes my mind to blank. Suddenly, nothing else is important, there are no pressing concerns. My entire world begins and ends with his taste, his scent, his warmth.
This man who rescued me from a fate worse than death, who chose me over peace, holds my heart in his hands. I moan into his mouth.
“If you keep making that noise, I won’t make it to my office this morning,” he warns, but I know it’s an invitation, a tempting offer.
Reluctantly, I pull away. “You need to go downstairs. Now. Wolfe accused me of monopolizing your time and attention the other day.”
“Did he? That bastard.” Cian shakes his head, but his tone holds no heat, only amusement.
“But it’s true, isn't it? Are you neglecting your duties because of me, Mr. O’Rourke, leader of the ruthless Gaelic Devils?” I tease.
His grin returns. “Of course I am. You’re my wife. You’re supposed to be my primary focus, steal all my attention, and infiltrate my every thought.”
My heart leaps. “I don’t think your men agree.”
“Fine.” He sighs. “From now on, I’m giving Wolfe additional responsibilities so he spends more time working and less time complaining about you.”
I giggle. “ That’s your solution?”
“Damn right it is.” He stands. “I’m going to offload half of my work onto him so I can spend those hours between your legs and in your arms.”
I quietly grin at his back as he leaves our bedroom. He wants to spend time with me. That realization makes me giddy, hopeful.
We’ve spoken many deep, meaningful words to each other since he rescued me, but words are words. Actions speak much louder, and are more sincere. His actions give me hope for a happy future together. Maybe even for love someday.
“ E lena, please come out of your room. I’m begging you.” I knock again at her door. “It’s just dinner with me and Cian. No one else will be there. I promise.”
“I can’t. Don’t you understand? He’s so big, mean, and scary looking. He ruined our family. Plus, I don’t like the way these Irishmen look at me. I’m not leaving this room—ever.”
I groan in frustration. Recently, Cian and I have been so wrapped up in each other that I feel guilty about not paying enough attention to my sister. Besides her therapist, who comes to see her twice a week, Elena won’t allow anyone else into her room. Not even me, and that hurts.
Her meals have to be left in the hallway. She manages to slip out and grab the tray when no one’s around.
I understand why she’s holding a grudge toward Cian, she has every right to her feelings, and maybe I’m crazy for not hating him.
But if I had to choose between my father and Cian, I’d choose Cian.
If the choice was between my brother and my husband, again I’d choose Cian.
There’s no world in which I wouldn’t choose to be with the man who makes me happy every single day.
But he doesn’t make Elena happy. All she sees is the blood on his hands. Her trauma’s all wrapped up in him.
Even so, I’m trying to find peace between them. Tonight I thought I’d try to lure her out with a nice family dinner.
Which is not going as I imagined. Am I delusional to try? Maybe.
Will Elena always see Cian as the enemy? Probably. I sigh.
“Fine. I won’t bother you anymore.” My forehead rests against the wooden door. “I love you, Elle. I’m so sorry for everything.”
With another heaved sigh, I turn away and head to the dining room.
On my way, I pass by one of the compound’s recreational rooms, which brims with conversation and laughter.
These Irishmen are a rowdy bunch, but they don’t bother me as much as they used to anymore.
I’m starting to grow accustomed to their culture.
Similar to us Italians, they are family focused.
Many of these men are related to each other either directly or distantly.
Cian’s clan is composed of four main family lines, him being the last of the O’Rourkes until we have a child.
He’s distant relatives with the McIvers, and somehow the Cullens and Teagans share the blood of an ancient Irish king.
Apparently that’s enough for them to call each other family.
I don’t dare ask for clarification due to the fact that these Celts haven’t warmed up to me at all. They seem even more uncomfortable now that Elle’s living here too. Like one Italian woman wasn’t bad enough, now they have two in their midst.
Maybe bringing my sister here was a bad idea.
Two men spot me as I walk past the doorway, and they immediately lower their gazes. Cian really did put the fear of god into them. I just hope they don’t hold it against me forever. The respectful distance they keep from me serves as a constant reminder that I’m an outsider, a stranger.
On entering the dining room, I find Cian slouched in a chair.
He straightens up, peering at me with a questioning expression.
He’s cleaned up more than usual tonight, his wild hair secured at his nape, clean shaven, and he’s wearing a dark blue suit with a pale colored tie.
He would appear more businessman, and less Irish mobster, if not for his facial scars.
“She’s not coming,” I inform him, taking a seat.
“I’m sorry.” He sounds sincere, though he’s losing patience with Elena. He hasn’t said anything about it yet, but I can tell by the way he clenches his jaw when we speak of her.
“I’m not sure how to?—”
The door bursts open. Elena stands on the threshold wearing a soiled, mismatched pajama set. Dark circles surround her haunted eyes. Her hair hasn’t been brushed in weeks.
My lips part in shock at her appearance.
“I…” her voice croaks. “I’m sorry.” She takes one look at Cian and bursts into tears.
Standing, I hurry to her side and wrap my arms around her trembling frame. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Tossing Cian an apologetic glance, I usher my twin from the room. “Come on. We’ll eat in your room.”
We make it back to her bedroom without running into anybody. Thankfully. As soon as we’re inside, her ragged breathing evens out.
Firmly closing the door behind us, I dial the kitchen and inform the staff of our change in dinner plans. Then I send a quick, apologetic text to Cian. He responds instantly with a kissy emoji—which makes me smile.
“I’m sorry, Ven, but I can’t be around that man.
Or any of these men.” Elena hugs herself as she stares out the window that overlooks the backyard.
This time of year, the landscape is just beginning to bud with Spring.
“I’ve been working on it with my therapist, but I don’t think that will ever change.
It’s not just how many of our people they murdered.
Large men terrify me. They all remind me of the man who kept me in a cage . ”
“I understand, I do.” I plop down on her unmade bed. “I’ve been thinking—and don’t take this the wrong way—but maybe you need to leave the city. Or even… this country.”
She faces me, her bloodshot eyes alight with curiosity. “Where would I go?”
“Italy.” I lick my lips. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, so don’t start thinking you’re too much of a burden or anything. Getting far away from here might be good for you. Of course, I’d visit?—”
“Yes.” She settles beside me. “I want to go. I need to go. I’m going crazy here, but didn’t want to say anything, afraid you’d think I’m ungrateful. You’ve done so much to help me. But I need space. I need to find a way to help myself.”
I pull her in for a hug. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page. It’s settled then. I’ll make some calls and hopefully you’ll be on your way to Italy soon.”
Her sigh of relief tugs at my heart. “Thank you.”
A knock sounds at her door, and her entire body goes rigid. I smooth my hands down her arms. “It’s just dinner.”
“Right.” She visibly swallows. “Okay.”
I go to answer the door, letting in the staff member who’s kind enough to bring up our food, and my stomach drops at Elena’s reaction. She’s frozen in place as the old Irish butler sets the tray on her table.
The man couldn’t be intimidating if he tried. His hands shake with a tremor as he removes the tray cover. I’ve spoken with Cian about letting him retire and live out the rest of his life in peace. Apparently, the ancient man is retired, and this is what he’s decided to do until he drops dead.
Some of these Irishmen take loyalty to a whole other level.
As he leaves, my concern falls on my twin. She hasn’t made any progress at all.
She’s right. At this point, she does need to figure out how to help herself, because I’m all out of ideas. I just pray that she heals. Somehow. Someday.