Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
STEFANO
TWO WEEKS LATER…
W hile I’d rather have her safe in my home, I can’t deny how much I’m enjoying staying with Katerina. I’ve never had a desire to live with anyone before, but the little habits and routines we’ve started engaging together make it impossible to deny how much I enjoy it. We’ve fallen into a myriad of domestic routines—ones I’ve never been particularly interested in experiencing with any partner before.
Her shifts make it difficult, but no matter what time she starts, I get up while she’s showering and make her breakfast to make sure she’s starting her day properly. When she’ll let me, I’ve even been known to pack her a lunch on days when I know I won’t be able to meet her.
There’s been no more little gifts sent, which only supports her original argument that I’m overreacting. She may be right, but I’m not about to admit that to her. I can’t describe how protective of her I am. It’s like a thread that runs through the centre of me, constantly pulling me towards her, demanding to know that she’s safe.
It’s not just the author of the creepy notes that has me worried. Since Enzo was discharged, tensions are only increasing between the Bianchis and the De Lucas. It’s only a matter of time before it escalates and in the meantime, knowing I can protect her myself is the only thing keeping me sane.
When it comes to the hospital, Danny-boy seems to have finally taken the hint. The notes have stopped. Also, word on the hospital grapevine is that he met someone at the wedding, which has me hoping rather than assuming, that he’s given up his infatuation. Looks like I had her swap shifts for nothing. A fact Katerina is keen to keep reminding me of. I’m not complaining about her new rota though; the hours seem to work out better for us. It seems whether it’s long surgeries or organised crime, we both get home around the same time. Who knew the schedule of a surgeon and consigliere would be so compatible?
I’ve been at Inferno working. There’s a capo meeting with Aurora tomorrow, and I needed to make sure I was fully prepared. As I walk through the front door of her house, my hackles raise as Katerina’s raised voice booms with anger, but laced ever so slightly with a note of fear.
I’m down the hallway, hanging off the doorframe as I scan each room. It takes me a minute to track her down, finally finding her in her study, pacing around the desk, and shouting directly into the phone she’s holding in front of her face.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I promise you’ve picked the wrong woman to fuck with.”
I snatch the phone out of her hand, ignoring the spluttering protests and the not so gentle slaps against my back. “Give that back right now,” she shouts.
I turn, my free hand darting out and covering her mouth. “Don’t test my patience.” The strain in my voice makes my words come out too harshly. Her temper flares in response, her eyes narrowing as her jaw clenches under my touch. “Settle down. Let me do this. Please.” I let out a relieved sigh when her expression softens, just a fraction.
Turning my focus back to the phone in my other hand, I bring it back to my ear. “Anything you have to say, you can say to me,” I bark, the words so loud they scrape against my larynx.
The caller doesn’t speak for the longest time, but I can hear his breath grating against the speaker. The rasp is jarring and every exhale rakes through the hairs on the back of my neck, making them stand to attention. Finally, there’s a sinister crackle over the line, followed by an emotionless robotic voice. “She’ll pay for letting you touch what’s mine.”
The line goes dead before I have the chance to roar my response. The idea that anyone would harm her makes me want to retch. Our gazes collide, and I’m struck by how scared she looks. All the colour has drained from her face and I swear I can see her lip trembling.
In that moment, I understand that what he said to me pales in comparison to whatever he said to her. I release her jaw, wrap my arms around her, pick her up, and walk her back towards her desk. As I reach for the chair and take a seat in front of her, she starts shouting. “How is you yelling at him any more productive than me yelling at him?’ Her eyes bore a hole into my chest where she refuses to make eye contact.
I take her hands in mine and dip my head as I bring them to my lips. I press a gentle kiss to her knuckles, the gesture as much an attempt to soothe the racing pulse that hammers against my thumb as it is a distraction. “I won’t apologise for wanting to protect you, Katerina,” I say, turning over her hands and laying a heavy palm in hers. My fingers wander as I continue, tickling an affectionate path around her palm and trailing it up her arm and along her collarbone until I can hook a gentle touch under her chin and tip it until she flicks her eyes to mine. “What did he say before I came in?”
A lone tear beads on her lashes. That one tiny drop torments me as it spills over and streaks down her cheek. “Don’t make me say it,” she whispers.
I rise from the chair and wrap her in a tight embrace, tucking her head into the crook of my neck and trying to use the subtle hint of black cherry that wafts up from her silky hair to subdue the rage coursing through me. To anyone who doesn’t know her, her reactions might seem like she’s taking this in her stride. But for her to show anything, for there to be the slightest crack in her armour, I know that she’s rattled, and that has my imagination running wild.
“It’s okay, baby girl. You can tell me.”
“I can’t. You’ll kill him,” she says with a sniff.
“I’ve killed a lot of people, Katerina. But I won’t simply kill him. I’ll slaughter the man who made you cry.” She surprises me when she simply nods her head. Like she’s accepting the seriousness of the situation and that as long as she’s still breathing, she’s mine to protect.
I pick her up bridal style and carry her out of the office, into the living room. She lets out an adorable little squeak as I lower myself to the couch and settle her on my lap. “Tell me.”
There are a few huffs of frustration before she speaks. “I hate that this asshole has made me feel so fucking vulnerable.” Tears well in her eyes again and it breaks my heart. I remain quiet, stroking a hand down her back while the other grips tightly to her hip, holding her tight to me.
“He said he was disappointed in me and that I’d pay for ‘betraying his devotion’.” Her face twists in disgust as she quotes him. “He said that I was always meant to be his and that he’d punish me for whoring myself out to another man. I was so angry at being spoken to like that, that I didn’t even think to hang up.” She pauses and I don’t say a word. The last thing I want to do is interrupt or reinforce the idea that she’s done anything wrong. “He said that he was done waiting for me to ‘see the light’ and that it was time to take what was his.”
My rage simmers and bubbles under the surface as I comfort her. My fingers squeeze her hip, and she leans into my chest, resting her head against my shoulder. Her posture sags with exhaustion, while my body is more tightly wound than it ever has been.
“Is this the first time he’s called?” I ask, my heart sinking when she doesn’t answer right away.
She clears her throat and lets the silence hang in the air until it becomes painful. “It’s the first time they’ve spoken.”
My temper frays at the edges. I move her off my lap and rise to my feet before pacing the length of the room in a frenetic march as I try to compose myself. A string of expletives burst from my lips, half in English, half in Italian. I can’t look at Katerina for fear that I’ll direct my frustration at her, but there’s a part of me that wants to turn her over my knee and spank her ass red raw for keeping this from me.
“How long has he been calling?” I grind out and I chastise myself internally that my words make her startle.
“A week maybe,” she replies, rubbing her arms for comfort. Blood rushes in my ears, roaring like river rapids and drowning out her profuse apologies.
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry when you know damn well you’re not,” I snap.
“That’s not fair. I didn’t realise how serious it was,” she protests.
“How? When I’ve been telling you for weeks! How are you this stubborn, woman?” I shout, still pacing, unable to calm myself down.
“I just didn’t think Danny would ever harm me,” she says, her voice raising and her words sounding surer. She’s not backing down, despite my unbridled anger. If anything, the more anger I show, the more she claws her way out of the fear that was gripping her and the more she sounds like herself. “I still don’t.”
“Then let’s find out,” I growl. I pull out my phone and dial my second. Marcus picks up within moments. “I want additional men on Costello. He’s escalating.”
“You want his house wired too?” is his only query. Typical Marcus. Succinct and efficient.
“Start with round-the-clock surveillance.” I grind out. “Rotate three teams of two every twenty-four hours, and I want updates on every shift change, Marcus.”
As I hang up, my pacing is interrupted by a now furious Katerina blocking my path.
“Don’t start with me, Katerina Elena Mancini.”
“ Don’t you fucking full name me! This is getting out of hand,” she shouts, squaring up against me in a manner that might be intimidating if it wasn’t so fucking adorable. I can’t help stepping into her personal space and challenging her right back.
“I think you’ll find, I’ll do whatever it takes when it comes to protecting your safety,” I bellow right back at her. “Do you think for one second I’ll allow this to continue? I don’t give a fuck who his father is or how it affects your career. This isn’t just a mild infatuation. He’s threatening to hurt you!”
We’re both glaring at each other, our chests heaving, emotions a swirling vortex of anger, fear, and frustration. The tension in the air is so thick it feels like it could choke us both. I don’t know who moves first but the second her lips touch mine it’s like all the oxygen in the room has been consumed and the only way to breathe is with the air we can steal from each other.
I don’t know if it takes seconds or minutes for us to burn off our anger with our frenzied kiss but when we come up for air, I lift her into my arms and let the feeling of rightness wash over me as she wraps her legs around my waist. Our eyes are locked together, neither one of us blinking. “Don’t ever lie to me again.”
“I didn’t lie,” she protests, but her cheeks flush, betraying her.
“A lie by omission is still a lie. I won’t tolerate being disrespected, Katerina. Do I make myself clear?” I try to temper the tone of my voice, but I can’t dampen the seriousness of my words. No matter how much I care for her, this won’t work if she doesn’t trust me with the truth.
She nods, but I don’t let it go. I move one arm, and wrap my hand around her throat, gripping with enough pressure to draw out the slightest of moans.
“You won’t brat your way out of this one, baby girl. Use. Your. Words. Promise me you will tell me everything.” I bite out.
She’s nodding before the words escape her. “I promise,” she says, her tone soft but resolute, and I can see the regret lacing her features at having lied to me before. Fuck me if contrition doesn’t look hot as fuck on her.
I lean closer, clasping her neck a little tighter as I press a kiss to her lips and whisper in her ear. “Such a good girl for me.” I preen when she smiles and releases a contented sigh, before reluctantly releasing my grip, sending her upstairs to bed to wait for me.
I do a sweep of the house, for security but also to give myself a few minutes to calm down. I replay every hate-filled word she relayed to me from the call and the more I let them spiral through my mind, the more concerned I become.
I don’t like that he’s escalating. And I sure as fuck don’t like that it feels like she’s in more danger now than she was before.
One thing I know though. He’s going to regret staking any claim on what’s mine.