Chapter 16
Isabella
My heart beats furiously as Antonio pushes me against the wall. It was shocking to see him attack Boris Reznov like that, but I guess it was always going to be explosive when his mother showed interest in a man. The Volante brothers are fiercely protective of Ava, and I suspect they have an image in mind of her being an eternal widow, mourning the loss of their father until the day she joins him in the afterlife. Not that her destination is likely to be the same as Marco Volante’s. If there is a hell, he more than earned his place there.
“I asked you a question,” Antonio snarls. “What are you doing here?”
Despite the violence simmering beneath the surface of his deceptively calm exterior, I know Antonio won’t hurt me. It’s hard not to wilt under his hostile gaze, though. Keeping my head up and my shoulders squared, I remind myself of why I came here. I wanted to show him a different, more determined side of myself. I can’t back down.
“You mean, apart from saving you from starting a war with the Bratva?” At least, I hope I did. My words to Boris were intended to smooth things over. I tried to assure the other man that Antonio wasn’t thinking straight, that there’s no need to break up their alliance. Ignoring the way my husband is glowering at me, I tut disapprovingly. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“That I don’t want some Russian fuck pawing at my mother.”
His sneer makes it seem as if it was some low-level foot soldier with his mother and not the billionaire head of a powerful organization.
I snort derisively at his attitude. “Is it really so bad? The Reznovs are your allies. Your mother and Boris are adults and neither of them are married. Ava’s still young. She shouldn’t have to spend the rest of her life alone.”
Ava only recently turned fifty, but Antonio acts as if she’s an old lady and not a woman with decades of life ahead of her. She’s still incredibly beautiful and, I have to admit, for an older guy, Boris Reznov is pretty damned hot. Silver fox doesn’t even begin to do the man justice. It would be a spectacularly bad idea to point that out to my husband, though.
Placing my hand on his arm, I caress it gently, trying to soothe his temper.
“Your mother deserves to find love.”
“Love?” Antonio spits. “You think they’re in love?”
“I do.” When Boris said he loved Ava, I felt every ounce of the sincerity in his words. “I saw how they looked at each other.”
“Fuck!” Antonio shoves away from me. He runs his grazed, bloody fingers through his hair, exasperated. “I don’t want to think about it.”
He’s going to have to deal with this sooner rather than later but I let the subject drop for now.
“How’s Gio?”
“He had surgery. We’re waiting for him to wake up.” Antonio moves closer. He puts his hands on the wall at either side of my head, caging me in. “Now, I’ll ask you again, Bella. What are you doing here?”
“I need to be here for Gio, for you.” I reach up and curve my hand around his cheek. He hasn’t shaved since yesterday morning, so his skin feels rough. “I’m your wife. My place is by your side.”
His jaw clenches as he considers what I’ve said. For several long seconds, he just stares at me. It takes everything I have in me not to look away. Now is the time to stand my ground, otherwise he’ll send me back to Westport, or the beach house, and our relationship will fall apart completely.
After what feels like an eternity, Antonio nods. “You’re right, Bella. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”
Though it’s not a clear apology, it feels like he’s saying sorry. He lowers his lips to mine. His kiss is softer than I’m used to from him, but it carries so much emotion I’m almost overwhelmed. His hand skims down the side of my neck as his lips caress mine. I shudder and sag against him as he pulls back.
Skimming the tips of his fingers down my cheek, he looks at me with a gentler expression on his face than I’ve ever seen. He’s never told me he loves me, but something tells me he’s building up to making a declaration. It never comes. The moment is shattered by the sound of a man clearing his throat.
Antonio steps away from me as Matteo saunters along the corridor toward us, wearing black pants, a white shirt, and his trademark cocky grin.
“Izzy.” He greets me with a kiss on each cheek. “This is a surprise. Need me to get rid of another body for you?”
“No,” I hiss, horrified that he’s bringing up the horrible business with Rico. I glance around to make sure nobody overheard him.
“Just a social call, then?”
My shoulders stiffen. Matteo is one of my oldest friends, but right now he’s looking at me as if I’m the enemy.
“I’m here to support my husband.”
“A man does need a loyal wife by his side.” Matteo tilts his head to the left as he regards me closely. “Are you loyal, Izzy?”
Although he addresses me by the pet name he’s always used for me, it’s without the affection we once shared. We were as close as brother and sister at one time, so the hint of suspicion in his voice is hurtful.
“I am.”
“I hope so.” He smiles tightly. “I’d hate to have to dump your body behind a strip club in Queens. You know, so soon after the last one.”
His remark is quite specific, so I’m guessing that’s what he did with Rico. It’s a reminder of the consequences of betrayal and also of what I owe the Volantes, as if I’d ever forget they’ve covered up what I did.
“You won’t have to,” I assure him. “I’ll never do anything to betray Antonio.”
“Good girl.” Matteo grins as if I’ve passed some test. Then he turns to my husband, who’s been watching our exchange with pursed lips. He’s never been comfortable with the past friendship between me and his brother. “Want to tell me what happened with Reznov?”
“What did Mamma tell you?”
“Nothing, but it’s clear she’s pissed. I heard a couple of the guys talking about how you laid him flat and you have blood on your shirt.”
Antonio glances down at his white dress shirt and curses. “I caught him kissing our mother.”
“And that warranted a beating?”
“He was kissing her, Matteo. Are you telling me you’re okay with that?”
“I don’t know. I mean, they are consenting adults, right?”
Matteo is being incredibly calm about this. In fact, he doesn’t even seem surprised by what Antonio just told him. My husband picks up on that too.
“You already knew about them?” I ask.
Matteo shrugs. “I had my suspicions.”
Antonio’s expression grows thunderous. “You didn’t think to share your suspicions with me?”
“No, because I didn’t know for sure.”
Antonio paces back and forth. He’s like a tiger looking for someone to maul. I wonder if he’d be this upset about his mother and Boris if he’d heard about it at some other time. Or is it just too much for him to deal with on top of the stress of waiting for news of Gio? He stops moving, takes a deep breath, and composes himself.
“Did you speak to Leo?”
Matteo nods. “Yeah, that’s why I was looking for you. I need to go pull his head out of his ass.”
Antonio doesn’t ask him why. He just dismisses his brother with a flick of the wrist. Matteo saunters off, apparently unbothered by being waved away like some lackey.
“What’s going on with Leo?” I ask.
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
Okay, message received loud and clear. Whatever’s up with Leo, it’s none of my business.
“Go sit with my mother,” Antonio says. “She’s in the waiting room.”
“Why? Where are you going?”
He doesn’t answer, just strides off along the corridor. I stay where I am for a minute, unsure of where to go. This place isn’t familiar to me. I head in the direction Dante was leading me before we came across Antonio pummeling Boris Reznov into the ground. Walking through one set of double doors, I find myself in a short corridor. I go through more doors and find myself in a foyer of sorts. Several men, dressed in the standard mafia uniform of black shirts and pants, stand around. I don’t recognize any of them, but the nods of acknowledgement tell me they know who I am.
“Uh.” Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, I clear my throat. “The waiting room?”
“In here, Mrs. Volante.” A young, dark-haired man who can’t be more than eighteen opens a door for me.
“Thank you, eh…”
“Jordan, ma’am.”
I flash him a smile as I walk into the room. Steeling myself to face the Volante family, I’m surprised to find Ava alone. She’s sitting in an armchair by the window. This is not the standard hospital waiting room. It’s more like the lobby of a fancy hotel, with the plush gray carpet, matching sofas, and paintings of tranquil landscapes on the walls.
“Isabella.” Ava’s greeting isn’t overtly hostile. If anything, she sounds curious about my presence here.
“Where is everyone?”
“Alessandro took his wife and Olivia home for a while. The others…” She shrugs. “Who knows?”
Contemplating whether it would be best to turn around and leave, I hover by the door. Ava regards me shrewdly.
“So the rumors are true? My son has taken you back?”
“He has.”
“Hmm.” She gestures toward the seat opposite her. “Come and tell me how that happened.”
My pulse skitters as I cross the room. The Volante men might be scary but to protect her family, there is nothing Ava wouldn’t do. She’s one of the sweetest, kindest women I’ve ever met, but if she thinks her children are at risk of being hurt, she becomes a lioness.
I sink onto the seat opposite her and fold my hands on my lap to stop them from trembling. Ava raises an eyebrow and waits for me to speak. I’m not sure what to tell her.
“I didn’t mean for Antonio to get hurt that night. He knows that now.”
“What does he know?”
“That Joey Gallo blackmailed me to let him into the house.”
Ava purses her lips. I really hope she doesn’t ask me what Joey used to force my hand. “How did Antonio find out about this?”
“I told him.”
“Why now?”
“There wasn’t a chance to tell him before.”
The older woman arches an eyebrow. It’s a bullshit answer, and she knows it. I’ve had a year to speak to Antonio and plead my case.
“I was ashamed of what happened and the longer I was away from Antonio, the more scared I was to speak to him.”
Ava nods. “But you changed your mind?”
“Not exactly. I ran into trouble, and Antonio helped me.”
“Did this trouble involve Rico Mancini?”
My eyes widen. “How did you know?”
Ava lets out a long exhale. “My son may choose to keep me in the dark, but I hear things. I know he’s been with you in Westport for the last couple of days and not on some business trip. I also know Rico Mancini is missing. He’s dead, I assume?”
I glance around the room warily. This isn’t a topic we should be discussing.
“It’s fine,” Ava assures me. “Matteo ensured there are no eyes and ears on us when we first arrived at the hospital. The place is secure.”
I can’t imagine how someone ensures privacy in a public building but I suppose the Stanhope Wing does cater to the super-rich who prefer to know they won’t have people eavesdropping on them.
“I killed him. He tried to…”
Before I can say another word, Ava leans over and pats my hand. “Then he got what he deserved.”
My eyes tear up. It’s not because of the lingering memory of Rico’s disgusting threats or guilt that I took his life. What brings me to the point of tears is that Ava just showed me I’m still part of the family, that whatever I’ve done, they won’t stand for anyone trying to hurt me.
Before emotion gets the best of me, I decide to change the subject. “So, you and Boris Reznov?”
For a moment, I think Ava’s going to tell me to mind my own business. I guess I can’t expect her to divulge details of her personal life to me after we’ve not seen each other for a year. Then she nods. “We’ve been seeing each other for some time.”
“You’re a lucky woman. He’s rich, handsome.”
“Not just that.” Ava smiles softly. “He’s kind to me. I’ve never known a man like him before.”
“Really?” I thought she and Marco Volante were the love story of the century. He was apparently cruel to everyone but her and their children.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Ava says. “Marco was a good husband. I grew to love him, but marrying him wasn’t my choice. My father gave me to him when I was eighteen. He won me without trying.”
“But Boris has to put the effort in.”
“He does.” Ava gives a girlish grin. “I’ve made him work for me.”
“Good for you.”
I can’t help thinking about my marriage. Antonio didn’t have to court me. He snapped his fingers, and I was his. I’d have liked to be romanced, just a little.
“Do you think my children will accept Boris?”
What she’s really asking is if Antonio will, because if he tells the others to respect Ava’s relationship, they’ll all fall in line.
“I don’t know, Ava. Maybe if you explain how Boris makes you feel.”
Her expression as she digests that idea is one of skepticism. Antonio’s not going to be swayed by her emotional investment in Boris. Silence descends and I don’t know how to fill it. Fortunately, I don’t have to suffer the awkwardness for long. The door swings open and a nurse in blue scrubs comes into the room.
“Mrs. Volante.” She looks at Ava, rather than me. “The doctors are finished with Gio. You can come and sit with him if you like.”
Ava gets to her feet and smooths down the skirt of the gorgeous blue gown she’s wearing.
“When Antonio graces you with his presence, will you let him know where I am?”
“Of course.”
As Ava follows the nurse from the room, I slump back in my chair. It’s a pain in the ass not having access to a cellphone. I don’t have to sit here alone for too long, though. Antonio comes storming back into the room, looking no calmer than when he left me in the corridor.
“Where is she?”
His tone is worryingly hard. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s referred to his mother as Mamma, displaying all the reverence the woman deserves for raising him and his siblings.
“She’s with Gio. The doctors have finished running their tests.”
Antonio shakes his head. He goes to the window. Raising his arm over his head, he leans against it as he looks out over the city. Though he’d never admit it, he’s hurting.
“Why don’t you go sit with them?” I suggest.
“I’ll see Gio later.”
Despite his prickly demeanor, I get up and go to his side. I lay a hand on his shoulder.
“You should speak to your mom.”
His answering grunt should be enough warning to drop the subject, but I can’t.
“Tony, this thing with Boris…”
Before I can get another word out, Antonio grabs me by the throat, whirls me around, and shoves me against the wall.
“Stay out of it,” he snarls. “What happens with my family is none of your fucking business.”
“Tony.”
“I mean it, Isabella. I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you.”
Letting go of my throat, he stalks off to the other side of the room and slumps into a chair. Tears burning my eyes, I turn and stare out into the pale blue sky. He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say? Fine. If that’s what he wants, he can have my silence. Let’s see which of us cracks first.