Chapter 42 Enzo
ENZO
Rocco decrees I need to go to New Jersey just as Allegra is about to be discharged from the hospital. Since he won't take no for an answer, I quickly dial her to let her know.
"Yes," she answers, her voice odd.
"I'll be away for a couple of days. But I'll see you at home, okay?"
"Take your time," she replies, asking no questions. I frown but shrug it off.
I go about my work, aiming to finish the meetings faster and get home earlier. I already miss Luca, and it's barely been half a day since I've seen him.
With Luca's birth, Rocco had officially initiated me into the unsavory part of the family business. Seeing that I'll be taking over the clubs in Midtown, I'd decided to surprise Allegra with our very own apartment, away from my father and everyone else in the famiglia.
I know I screwed up when I killed those men in front of her, and I doubt she will forgive me anytime soon. But I'll still do my best to make her see that everything I do is for her.
Everything.
The thought that something could have happened to her had paralyzed me with a fear I'd never known before. I'd reacted the only way I knew how—with bloodshed.
I need to make it up to her.
As soon as I'm back home, I go to our room, looking for Allegra and Luca. The room is empty save for a cradle in the corner. I take a few steps.
Surely she wouldn't.
But as I reach the little bed, I see Luca fast asleep, completely unattended.
"What the fuck," I curse, lifting him into my arms and holding him close.
Taking him with me, I run into Ana and demand to know where Allegra is.
"She's having tea with your father in the conservatory," she says, and I feel my rage mounting.
"And who was watching Luca?"
She shrugs.
"I thought Signora Allegra was."
I head to the conservatory, shocked to see Allegra and my father discussing things as if they're long-lost friends.
"Allegra," I call out, my voice curt.
"Son, there you are. We were just talking about my grandson," he guffaws in his fake manner.
"While he was all alone in the bedroom?"
"Well, nothing happened. He's fine," Allegra finally speaks, eyeing the baby in my arms for the first time. I turn to her, only to be struck with such strong disgust as I take in her features—oddly smug and heartless—and the way her body language tells me she couldn't care less about Luca.
"He's not. Why not let Lia watch him if you needed some time alone?" I probe further, incensed that she'd think it's okay to leave a newborn—a premature one at that—alone and unattended.
"Oh, you didn't hear?" She tilts her head to the side, her eyes slightly hooded as if she's trying to feign concern. "She had a family emergency in Italy and she had to leave. I couldn't keep her here. Not when her family needed her more than I did."
"Why wasn't I made aware of this?" What sort of alternate reality did I walk into?
She waves her hand dismissively.
"You know now," she says, and my father interjects at the same time.
"Come on, son, no harm done. Let me take a look at my grandson." He rises from his seat, coming next to me to peer at Luca.
"He takes after you," he comments, and I just grunt, pissed off about everything.
Allegra also stands up, and I offer Luca to her, knowing he loves to feel his mother's warmth. She makes a weird face but awkwardly takes him in her arms.
Just as he's settled against her breast, he wakes up and starts wailing.
"I think he's hungry," I add, and Allegra surprises me by thrusting Luca back into my arms.
"Give him something to eat then."
"What? He needs breast milk, Allegra. From you." I almost roll my eyes at her.
Is this her way of punishing me for my wrongdoings? Because it's definitely working. But she shouldn't involve Luca when this is strictly between us.
"The doctor said my milk wasn't good enough and we should switch to formula," she quips, pouting as her brows go up in professed innocence.
"Really?" I drawl, narrowing my eyes at the two of them.
With Luca still crying in my arms, I head back inside the house, intent on finding some formula to feed him.
And just as I thought—there's none.
What the fuck!
"Shh, little one," I try to coo to him while I dial Nero to get me a lifetime's supply of formula.
Luckily, he's fast, and I'm soon able to feed Luca.
How did this get so screwed up?
I'm holding my two-week-old son as he sucks on his baby bottle, everyone around me completely disinterested—including his mother.
The odd behavior persists, and it's like Allegra can't bring herself to look at Luca. She always finds an excuse to leave the room when she sees me with him.
It's even worse at night, as she'd declared from the very beginning that she's not sleeping in the same room as him because it would upset her sleeping schedule.
I'd stared at her dumbfounded, convinced there was something seriously wrong with her.
Nevertheless, I'd taken Luca to my room and proceeded to feed him every two hours, barely getting any sleep.
At some point, sick of this new attitude of hers, I confronted her, only to be met with soft, derisive laughter. She'd said I was imagining things.
The internet had been a little more enlightening, and I'd started to believe that maybe she was suffering from postpartum depression.
Why, with that traumatic event and the subsequent birth, I don't blame her.
So I'd decided to give her some breathing room, hoping that at some point she'd come back to us.
Still, that means I'm taking care of Luca full-time.
"Son, are you listening to me?" my father shakes me, and my eyes jerk wide open.
When was the last time I had a full night of sleep?
"Sorry, can you repeat that?"
"You need to hire a nanny. You can't go on like this, Enzo," my father says skeptically.
"No. I don't trust anyone else with Luca," I reply tersely. Anyone but Allegra, but nowadays I wouldn't trust her either.
"Son, this is a woman's job. You have more important things to do. The meeting with the Russians is soon. Don't tell me you're going to take your baby to the meeting. They'll all laugh in your face and bye-bye deal."
"I'll manage, OK?"
"No, you won't. You're getting a nanny and that's that. I won't have my heir be the butt of jokes because he insists on playing the wet nurse."
"He's my son, Father," I grit my teeth, trying to keep myself from exploding.
"He can be your son from a distance too." Father shakes his head, pushing his glasses up his nose to study some documents—a sign I've been dismissed.
In the afternoon, I take Luca to see maman Margot and I'm happy to see them getting along so well, since she's going to be a fixture in his life.
"I want you to be his godmother," I ask her as she holds Luca in her arms, gazing lovingly at him.
Like Allegra should have.
Not going there.
"Of course I will. He's my little angel." She leans down to kiss his nose before turning to me again. "How's your wife? Labor is hard on women, you know. I hope you're not pressuring her to…" she trails off when I start laughing.
"That's the last thing you should worry about, maman.
" It's not only her sudden change in attitude, but there's also something physically off-putting about her.
In the time she's been discharged from the hospital, I haven't had one lustful thought about her, even though her figure is plumper, more enchanting with the fullness of motherhood.
I look at her and I don't feel anything.
I'd been ashamed of myself, thinking that she'd gone through such an ordeal to give me Luca, and now I was disgusted by her body.
"Be kind to her. She's probably weak right now, both physically and emotionally."
I listen attentively to maman's advice, promising to behave myself and be mindful of my wife's mental state.
But when I arrive home, I'm once again struck by the behavioral difference in Allegra. She's barking orders at Ana and the other staff, her voice full of irate superiority.
"Allegra," I start, and she finally turns toward me. "Shut up," I say as I grab her by the hand to take her upstairs.
"What?" She has the audacity to bat her lashes at me, as if I'd fall for that trick.
"I get that you're going through something, but that doesn't mean you can abuse the staff," I tell her, and she merely shrugs.
"I'm going to put Luca to bed." I don't bother to look back as I head directly to my room, bathing him and dressing him in clean clothes before lying down on the bed with him.
I'd found it easier to just sleep with him next to me than to move back and forth between the bed and the cradle.
It's only when Luca comes down with a bad case of colic that I finally give in and hire a wet nurse, spending hours poring over resumes and interviewing all potential candidates before approving Mrs. Marshall, a thirty-something-year-old lady who seems to have a way with babies.
The addition of a wet nurse comes at the perfect time for Luca's christening, and Father has made it clear that this is more a business deal than anything, since the Russians will be in attendance.