19. Alessia
“He made it through surgery. The next few days will determine whether he survives or not,” Dr. Simmons tells Finn and me about four hours after they took Enzo into the operating room.
The doctor doesn’t have what I would call a great bedside manner, but he’s used to dealing with patients who aren’t fond of being coddled, at least when he gets a call from Finn. It doesn’t bother me, though. I’d rather have the facts straight and to the point, especially because, so far, it’s the outcome I’ve spent the last several hours praying for.
“I’ll keep him here while he recovers. Does he have family you’d like to call?”
“He has a sister,” I tell him, even though he’s talking to Finn. The doctor is perfectly capable, but I’m the one with the information, not the man standing next to me. He’s obviously old school and defers to the men in the room. “I’ll call her. She’s going to want to come visit him.”
The doctor nods. “That’s fine. I’ll let the guard gate know.”
Dr. Simmons lives in a vast gated community, not one of those cookie-cutter ones, either. Each house sits on about five acres, so you aren’t in your neighbor’s business like so many other subdivisions. Handy when youre performing illegal medical care from your home.
“I’m assuming she knows the protocol?” He raises the question to Finn. Again.
“Her brother has been working with my family for over ten years. She’s well versed in the importance of keeping her mouth shut about what she may see or hear and the consequences if she doesn’t,” I inform him.
Finn looks at me with a small smirk ghosting his lips, and the doctor looks completely nonplussed by my answer.
“Very well. He should be ready for visitors within the hour.”
“Thank you, doctor. I’d like to keep a couple guys rotating in and out. Just as an extra precaution,” Finn informs him.
“That’s fine. I’ll give the gate their names as well when I call down.”
Dr. Simmons turns and walks back into his surgical area, presumably to check on Enzo. I fall into Finn’s side, emotionally and physically more exhausted than I can remember being in years. It’s been nearly a decade since I allowed myself any sort of breakdown, but damn, does that sound good right about now. Being attacked in my own house, then to see Enzo shot and lying on the cold ground. The life was bleeding from his body while those men carelessly stepped over him like he was nothing more than a fallen obstacle in their way. It was too much. All the while, I watched from inside a secured room, hoping with everything in me that my bodyguard and friend wasn’t dead.
“You need to rest,” Finn says, interrupting my thoughts.
“I’ll rest when I know Enzo’s going to be okay. I need to call his sister. Shit, I don’t have my phone.”
Finn studies me like he wants to argue. Instead, he pulls his cell from his pocket and opens his contacts. “Enzo gave me his sister’s contact information just in case…well, in case something like this happened and he couldn’t call her himself.”
“Thank you,” I mutter and hit Emilia’s contact.
“Hello?” she answers, sounding a little confused and nervous at receiving a call from an unknown number. When you’re in the life we are, unknown numbers could mean so many different things, most of them bad.
“Hey, Emilia. It’s Alessia.”
“Hi. Is everything okay?” Her voice carries a weight of worry. Considering I’m calling at the break of dawn, it makes sense that she’s scared I’m calling with bad news.
“There was an incident at my house, and Enzo was shot. He’s just gotten out of surgery, but the doctor said the next few hours are critical. I thought you should know.”
“Oh my God,” she whispers. “Okay…okay.” She takes what sounds like several deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. “I can call my sitter and have her come stay with the kids. What hospital are you at?”
“We’re not at a hospital. My husband has a doctor outside of the city. That’s where we are.”
“No hospital? Alessia, are you sure—”
I cut her off before she can finish her thought. “Trust me, Emilia. He’s in just as good of hands here as he would be at any hospital. I wouldn’t have let them bring him here otherwise.”
She takes a deep breath. “I know you wouldn’t have,” she says before a sob escapes her. There’s a freedom in her vulnerability, a certain knowledge she has that someone will pick up her pieces. It’s probably not even a thought or consideration. Enzo has always been that for her, and I suppose she thinks I can be the same. She’s a strong woman, don’t get me wrong. From everything Enzo has told me about her and the few times I’ve met her, she’s hardly a demure wallflower who lets everyone make decisions for her. No, she’s the opposite. But she does have the luxury of falling apart and it being okay for her. I don’t have that, especially not with a virtual stranger.
“I’ll have a car sent for you.” It doesn’t sound like she should be driving, and it’s the least I can do since her brother was shot protecting me.
“Thank you, Alessia.”
“Of course.” It doesn’t feel right to reply with you’re welcome when I’ve delivered devastating news to her.
We hang up and Finn makes the call for Emilia’s car. Apparently, Enzo gave him all of her information.
“Do you want to go home and change?”
“No, I want to sit with him for a bit before his sister gets here. I don’t want…” I trail off, feeling silly about where my thoughts are going.
“You don’t want him to be alone,” Finn finishes for me.
I stare at my husband for a few beats, amazed at the overwhelming feeling that washes through me. Before I have time to sift through the heady rush of emotion, his phone rings.
“Yeah,” he answers. Gone is the caring husband; the mob boss has taken his place. “Thanks, Cillian. I’ll call the families myself.”
My husband disconnects the call and turns to me. “Cillian had everything at the house cleaned up. I’ll be honest, Alessia, I don’t want to leave you there now that they think they can get to you.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I’d feel better if you went to your parents—”
“Absolutely not,” I cut in before he can finish that thought. “My place is with you, Finn. You aren’t going to hide me away until this is settled. I won’t show them that kind of weakness.” How he could even consider it baffles me. If he wants it to look like I run scared every time there’s a threat, then all his enemies for the rest of our short lives will come after me to get to him. I won’t be used against him. “We’re Monaghans. We don’t run.”
The smile that covers his face with my statement is blinding before he wraps an arm around my waist and kisses me soundly on the mouth.
“That’s right, baby. We are.” He lays another kiss on my mouth before dialing a number.
“Cillian, we’re staying at the penthouse.”
When Finn hangs up, he’s still wearing his smile, pride shining in his eyes. “I need to make a few calls, but I’ll be right outside Enzo’s room. Why don’t you wait with him, then, when his sister gets here, I’ll take you into the city.”
Taking my hand in his, he leads me to where Dr. Simmons keeps the patients. It looks like any room in a hospital, filled with medical equipment and monitors with the same disinfectant smell permeating the air.
Enzo is still pale, which is to be expected, and so still. If the monitor next to him wasn’t beeping with every beat of his heart, I’d be worried. Finn kisses me before stepping out of the room to make his phone calls. I have a seat next to his ventilator and focus on the rhythmic whooshing noise to reassure me that he’s alive and recovering.
“I’m going to make them pay for this, Enzo. I promise you. They aren’t going to get away with hurting you.”
He doesn’t answer of course, but I need to say the words for him as much as I need to hear them myself. Orlando has taken too much from me as it is, and I refuse to let him live so he has the opportunity to hurt me or anyone I care about again.
With nothing else to do or say until Emilia gets here, I sit and allow the monotonous noises to lull me to sleep.
When I wake, my gaze meets Emilia in a chair on the other side of the bed.
“Hi.” My voice is raspy and thick with sleep.
Emilia looks at me and gives me a soft smile. “Hi,” she whispers. I’m at a loss of what to say to the woman whose brother almost lost his life protecting me.
“I’m so sorry for what happened, Emilia. I know how close you two are and the kids…” I let my words trail off because what’s there to say, really? This isn’t an uncommon position for someone in our life to be in.
“Enzo was well aware this could happen, Alessia. You have nothing to apologize for.”
She’s right; I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t feel responsible.
She smiles at her brother and brushes his dark hair back from his forehead. “You know, he cares about you. He thinks of you as another sister. I used to be so jealous of you.” She looks at me with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why not if it’s your truth?” I shrug. I’ve never had issues with people being honest with me. It’s when they smile to my face and lie behind my back that I have a problem with them. Enzo and Emilia are cut from the same cloth, so I have no doubt she’s a straight shooter like her brother.
She waves her hand in front of her face. “I was just being a bratty younger sister. Here was this gorgeous girl taking my brother away all the time.” She laughs and shakes her head. “For a while there, I thought you two would end up together. Like one of those romance books where the girl falls for her bodyguard who’s always been by her side.”
She sees the horrified look on my face and laughs even harder. “Yeah, that’s the same look Enzo gave me when I told him my theory. He said he saw you as the less annoying sister.” Her laughter cuts off and her eyes well with tears.
“I’m so sorry.”
God, why do I keep saying that?
“I’m not, and neither would Enzo be if he was awake. He loves you, Alessia. And we all know my brother would gladly lay down his life for the people he cares about.”
My own eyes fill with tears, but I feel foolish letting them fall in front of Emilia. Until tonight, I haven’t cried in front of anyone since my brother died. What’s the point? Tears wouldn’t have brought him back, and they won’t help Enzo now.
“I met your husband. Nice guy.”
A scoff escapes me. “That’s usually not the first impression he gives off.”
“Enzo always had good things to say about him.”
“Those two like to give me shit, so it makes sense.”
“He said you were different with Finn.” She shrugs. “I don’t know, but he made it seem like you were happy. Said he thought there was finally someone in your life who understood what made you tick. Also, he said Finn was the only person he knew who could give you a run for your money on the mat. That’s high praise from my brother.”
I roll my eyes, but it’s in good humor. Typical Italian man.
Finn peeks his head in the door and tilts it toward the hallway, silently asking if I’m ready to go. I nod and turn to Emilia, who is busying herself, fussing over the sheet covering her brother.
“I’ll give you some time alone with him. If you need anything, call me or Finn. Again, Emilia, I’m so—”
“Please don’t apologize again. All I need to know is whoever did this doesn’t get away with it.”
Standing from my chair, I walk to her and lay a hand on her shoulder. “This is one of many things I promise they’ll pay for.”
Finn and I pull up to a nondescript brick building. It’s a large square structure in the more industrial part of the city. The other buildings surrounding it look like small, closed-down factories.
“I have to say, Finn. So far, I’m not impressed.”
He turns to me with a smile. “Just wait.”
Finn presses a button in his car, and a steel garage door opens. Driving into the underground parking, we’re met with two guards holding semiautomatic rifles.
When he parks the car, he greets the guards and heads to the elevator. After putting his hand on the scanner, the doors open, and we’re carried to another floor. Finn steps out first and presses his hand to another scanner, which unlocks yet another door. The telltale sound of a lock disengaging fills the small hallway. If I was in a better headspace, I’d probably appreciate all the safety measures he has in place here. But as it is, I can barely keep my eyes open.
“You know, wife, there is a small matter of a marriage custom we overlooked.”
My brow quirks as I stare at his knowing grin. “What’s that?”
Instead of answering, he picks me up and holds me bridal style, carrying me through the doorway before his booted foot kicks the door shut.
“I never carried you over the threshold.” Finn bends his neck and kisses me softly on the mouth.
“You decided the best place to do this was at your penthouse?”
“I plan on doing it at every home we own.”
“Jesus. Marriage has made you sentimental. Or just plain mental, I’m not quite sure which.”
He smirks and sets me on my feet. I spin around and take in the penthouse. It’s an open floor plan with tall brick walls throughout. Stairs lead up to what looks like an open loft. Giant windows cover one wall, letting in a beautiful glow of natural light that reflects off the stainless steel appliances in the kitchen. This space screams Finn. There’s only a small dining table with four chairs, and black leather couches along with a few club chairs make up the living area. There’s no overpriced artwork on the walls, empty glass vases or anything equally useless. The function of the space is more important to him than having it overly decorated. The only thing that surprises me is the large television on one of the walls with a gaming console on the shelf next to it.
“I never took you for a gamer.”
“Eoghan spends time here when I’m in the city. He owns another building not too far from here.”
Finn walks to the giant window and tilts his head, indicating for me to follow. Standing shoulder to shoulder, he points to four of the surrounding buildings. “I own all of these. Those two”—he points to the left— “are apartments for some of my men. And those two”—he points to the right—“are where we store some of our inventory. They also double as apartments on the top two floors.”
“So you basically own the entire block?”
He nods and walks over to a door laid into the brick wall. “Let me show you something else that I think you’re going to like.”
The door opens to what looks like another set of elevator doors and another fingerprint scanner.
“God, Finn, this place is like Fort Knox, with all the security features.”
He presses his palm to the scanner and the narrow elevator doors open.
“This can only be accessed with a palm print.” He grabs his phone from his pocket and dials a number. When whoever is on the other end answers, he tells them, “My wife needs access to all the scanners.” He listens for a moment, then nods in my direction. “Press your hand here,” he instructs.
When I do, nothing happens for a few moments, then a small light above the scanner turns green.
“Thanks,” he says into the phone and slides it back into his pocket. “Me, you, Cillian and Eoghan are the only ones who can access this particular elevator, but your print has been uploaded into the system, so you have access to all my buildings.”
We step inside, and the doors close, taking us a level lower than the garage. My head is spinning with the idea that my husband has some high-tech secret hideout that I now have access to. When the doors open again, we step out into a bright room filled with nearly a hundred different guns, all ranging in size. Make that a heavily armed secret hideout.
“Do you have a small armory in every house you own?”
“Pretty much. And I also have one of these.” He opens another steel door into an underground shooting range. It’s a bit more narrow than the one at his house, this one having only one lane for target practice.
“An armory and a gun range in every house. Are you building an army I don’t know about? Did I marry someone with designs to take over the world?”
Finn laughs, and the sound echoes off what I’m guessing are soundproof walls. “No, you married the head of a criminal organization who makes a shit ton of their money in the gun trade. I like to test the shipments, and having a range here is more convenient. The one at the house is for practice. Well, there’s also one in most of our safe houses, but that’s more for fun for whoever is out there. It can get boring as hell.”
I can’t fault his logic there. There have been days when practicing at a range is what saves my sanity and helps me work through whatever problems are tumbling through my brain.
“This is quite the setup you have.” I wander over to one of the walls with several pistols hanging up and loaded magazines lying on the shelf below.
I grab a 9mm and test the weight in my hand. “This one is my favorite.” Memories of all the times Enzo would take me to the range for target practice filter through my mind. A chuckle escapes when I think of one of my first times at the range. “After Gio’s death, I felt so damn helpless. I didn’t know any sort of self-defense and I’d never held a gun. When I was healed from my injuries, I’d jump at every little thing. Even Enzo could see the constant state of fear I was living in. He and my father refused to let me escape into the shell of a person I was becoming.” I put the 9mm back and pick up the 44 Magnum next to it. “My father decided if I was afraid of my own shadow, it was time I learned different ways of defending myself, so I’d never feel powerless again. Our first stop was a gun range. This was Enzo’s favorite gun. I don’t know, something about Dirty Harry and being the ultimate badass. He let me shoot a gun just like this and it nearly knocked me on my ass, but after a few more tries, I kind of got the hang of it. Then my father handed me a 9mm, and it was much easier for me to handle.” I smile at the gun in my hand. “But this one was always Enzo’s favorite.”
I look down and find a bullet, taking it from the box.
“Do you have a knife?” I ask Finn.
He walks to a display case I hadn’t noticed and takes out a short utility knife, handing it to me. I flip the blade open and lay the bullet on the shelf, carving an O on the side.
“I want the kill shot, Finn.”
He looks from me to the gun, then back to me. “Taking a life isn’t an easy thing, Alessia. It can change you, haunt you.”
“Does it haunt you? Do you see the faces of the men whose deaths you’ve been responsible for?”
He looks me straight in the eye. “Each one deserved it, so no. I don’t give them a second thought.”
“Then why do you think I would? Orlando deserves this.” I hold the bullet between us. “And I deserve to be the one to deliver it.”
He’s silent as he studies the hard resolution in my eyes. “Then you’ll have it,” he answers. “Anything you need, I’ll stand next to you and make sure it’s yours.”
That feeling I’d had at the doctor’s house returns in full force. Finn doesn’t attempt to shield me from anything that being a part of this life means. He knows I would never be okay with that. When I need to show the world the hardened woman who I have to be to survive in this life, he stands right next to me. When I need somewhere soft to land, he’s right there next to me then, too. He doesn’t want a wife he has to coddle; he wants a partner. This man loves my stubbornness, my determination, and my fire. If I need bloody vengeance, he’ll make sure I have it because that’s who Finn is. Anything I need or could possibly want, he would move heaven and hell to make sure I get it. He’s broken through my walls brick by brick without me even realizing it. Now, standing in front of him, telling him I want to be the one to take the life of someone who’s caused me and the people I love so much pain, someone who has taken so much from me, he doesn’t blink an eye. If I want it, he’ll make sure it happens. That’s who I need by my side. He’s who I’ve always needed.
“I love you,” I blurt out. He doesn’t say anything, instead staring at me with his mouth hanging open. “I know this was never about love, and maybe I’m emotional from the horrible fucking day I’ve had and seeing someone who’s like a brother to me almost dying, or—”
“Alessia.” Finn slides his warm palm around the side of my neck and cups my cheek. “Shut the hell up.”