Lorenzo
THREE MONTHS LATER
It’s been three months since the fucking night when I almost lost my wife and unborn child.
Some nights I can’t sleep as the memories of that night invade my dreams. I feel that all-consuming panic, the tightness of my chest, but I turn over and see her sleeping peacefully, and I’ll rest my hand on the swell of her stomach where our baby is growing and that panic recedes.
She’s alive and she’s here.
I glance over at her. She’s sitting on the sofa in my office, reading, her hand resting against her swollen stomach, a solemn look on her face.
It’s the same look she had when I found her in the garden about a month after I killed Daire.
She doesn't talk about Daire at all anymore.
When I asked why she looked sad, she said she wasn't sad exactly, that she was grieving something that never existed, the sister she'd wanted Daire to be.
I didn't have anything useful to say, so I sat beside her and let her process.
She hasn't brought it up since, but sometimes I catch her with that same look, and I leave her to it.
“Lorenzo,” she says, a smile playing on her lips. “I can feel you staring.”
“You’re my wife, I’m allowed to stare.”
Before she can’t say anything, there’s a knock on my office door.
"I'll go find Vittoria," Quinn says softly as she gets to her feet and moves over to me. She presses a kiss to my lips.
I slide my arm around her waist and pull her close, deepening the kiss. “Love you, baby,” I say as I press one last kiss to her lips.
Her eyes warm and her lips spread into a bright smile. “I love you too,” she says as she moves away from me and walks over to open the door. “Hey Ciro,” she greets and I watch her leave the room and close the door behind.
Ciro sits down on the chair in front of me.
"Bridget," he says quietly.
I lean back in my chair and sigh. Two weeks after Daire’s body was found in her wrecked car at the bottom of the ravine, Bridget Delaney died. "What about her?"
"The official cause was heart failure," he says. "Stress and grief."
I look at him. “I know,” I say. “What about it?”
"There's a rumor that all is not what it seems,” he grins. “Seems as though she may have been murdered.”
I think about Bridget Delaney and all that she did to Quinn, all that she said to my wife.
Maybe if you'd been less difficult to love.
Fuck her, she got everything she deserves if someone killed her.
"No need to look further," I say. “I don’t care and Quinn believes her mother died from the loss of Daire. It’s best we leave it that way.”
She cried when she heard, not for the mother Bridget was, I think, but for the one she never had. I held her and said nothing, because there was nothing useful to say. Some griefs aren't about loss. They're about finally accepting that what you wanted was never going to come.
When Daire’s body was recovered, it came to light that she had given birth just over a month before her death, the question that now remains on everyone’s mind is; where the hell is the child?
Ronan hasn't returned to the head of the Irish Crime Family since Bridget's funeral. Daithí has stepped into the role without ever officially claiming it, and nobody's challenged the change.
Ciro grins. “Now, we need to talk about Erin.”
I sigh. God, that’s a fucking disaster waiting to happen.
Three weeks ago, Quinn and Valentina sat me down and they told me about Erin.
How she met a man online who lied about who he was.
That motherfucker was Gregory Hightower.
He beat Erin and hurt her badly. The good news is, that that fucker is dead, curtesy of Landon King, who Erin ended up having a one night stand with while in Vegas.
Bad news is, Frederick Hightower is still hiding, the fucker. But not for much longer. Tempest has been pulling on the financial thread for weeks and he's found movement. Frederick is running, which means he's making mistakes, and mistakes leave traces. We'll find him.
I guess the saying what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas isn’t true. Erin’s pregnant, twelve weeks along and it’s Landon King’s.
The reason why this is a clusterfuck is because Landon has no idea that Erin’s pregnant and both my wife and sister made me swear that I wouldn’t tell him or anyone else.
I have kept that promise, which has not been comfortable, because Prior King is my ally and Landon is his brother, but Erin asked and Quinn asked so I gave my word, and I've said nothing. But it’s going to come out and when it does, shit’s going to hit the fan.
Quinn is waiting for me as I exit my office, we have an appointment in thirty minutes. Today is the day we get to see our baby and find out the gender.
“We’re going to be late,” she whines as I take her hand.
"Quinn, we're leaving now, we’re not going to be late," I say.
"You don't know that, there could be traffic."
I lean forward and press a kiss to her lips, she sighs against me as I hold her to me. "We’re going, we’ll be on time.”
We arrive at the appointment early, and Quinn is still agitated. No matter what I say or do, I can’t calm her. It doesn’t take long until we’re called back to the room.
The technician is a woman called Maria. She smiles as Quinn gets onto the table. "First time?" She asks.
"For both of us," Quinn says.
"He looks like it," Maria says, gesturing at me.
"I look fine," I say, trying not to sound pissed. My wife is agitated, not me.
"If you say so," Maria replies with a grin, and Quinn laughs. I sit in the chair beside the examination table and breathe a sigh of relief, she was helping Quinn relax.
The machine comes on and the screen fills with our baby, so much clearer than ever before. The heartbeat is loud, and steady.
Quinn makes a choking sound beside me. I look to her and see she’s got tears falling from her eyes. I reach for her hand and look back at the screen.
“Everything looks perfect,” Maria says. “Strong heartbeat, good measurements. Right on track. Would you like to know the sex?” Maria asks.
"Yes," Quinn says immediately.
I nod. "Of course."
Quinn shoots me a look.
"What?"
"I thought you were going to make me wait."
I frown. "Why the fuck would I do that?"
Maria moves the wand slightly and studies the screen. I tighten my grip on Quinn's hand as we watch Maria. She turns our gaze on us and smiles. "Congratulations. You're having a boy."
I stare at the screen, unable to say anything. We’re having a boy. Our son. Beside me, Quinn makes a soft sound. I turn to look at her and see that she's crying.
"Quinn?"
She laughs through her tears. "We're having a boy."
I look back at the screen, at the tiny person kicking around without a care in the world.
Our son.
Maria keeps talking about measurements and growth and percentages, I hear none of it.
Because all I can think about is teaching him to ride a bike, teaching him to defend himself, teaching him how to be a good man. A better man than some of the ones we've known.
"Lorenzo?"
I blink and realize Quinn is watching me. "What?"
She smiles. "You've gone quiet."
I shake my head and lean forward to press a kiss to her lips.
She squeezes my hand. "We're having a son."
God, how the fuck did I get so lucky?
Later that night, Quinn is asleep beside me in bed, one hand is tucked beneath her cheek, the other resting protectively over the swell of her stomach, where our son is.
After we got home from our appointment, Val wouldn't let up until Quinn told her whether we were having a boy or a girl. The second Quinn told her, Val screamed, which brought every member of my family running to see what the commotion was. My sisters and Vittoria cried, my brothers all clapped me on the back, congratulating me. When I turned to my father he was watching me with pride, something I hadn’t seen in a long time.
Then he spent the next hour asking questions about the baby and whether everything looked healthy at the scan.
By dinner, the entire house was talking about names. Valentina hated every suggestion I made, Vittoria hated most of hers. Our father eventually told everyone to stop arguing and finish their food, but nobody listened to him, so he joined in and gave input.
I glance at Quinn now. She’s got a small smile still on her face. I reach out and brush a strand of hair away from her face. She shifts closer without waking.
A sharp knock sounds against the bedroom door.
I frown, it's after ten. Everyone knows that Quinn’s usually fast asleep by now.
The door flies open and Valentina rushes into the room, tears streaming down her face. Instantly, I know something is wrong. Her phone is clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles are white. She's shaking so hard I can see it from across the room.
The mattress dips behind me. I glance back and see Quinn pushing herself upright, sleep still clinging to her. "Val?" she asks softly.
Valentina doesn't seem to hear her, she's staring at me, absolutely terrified.
"Valentina." I cross the room. "Look at me."
Her eyes lift to mine, they're red and swollen.
"Erin." The word breaks apart as a sob tears from her throat.
My stomach drops, she thrusts her phone toward me. I take it and see there’s security footage loaded with a timestamp from earlier this afternoon. It’s at the coffee shop Erin and Valentina go to every Thursday.
I hit play and the room falls silent. I watch Erin walk toward her car.
Erin sees something and she stops. I watch as her eyes widen before she turns on her heels and runs.
My grip tightens around the phone.
She doesn't get far, as a man appears, then another. They grab her and force her toward a waiting vehicle. I watch her fight. She’s vicious, she doesn’t stop, she fights with everything that she has.
I watch her disappear into the back seat, the car pulls away and then the final figure steps into view, my blood turns cold.
Frederick Hightower.
Beside me, Quinn goes completely still. She's moved to my side without me noticing. One look at her face tells me she's seen enough. Her hand wraps around my arm.
"He's got her." Valentina's voice cracks, another sob escapes her. "Lorenzo." I drag my gaze from the screen. "He's got her."
And just like that, the peace we'd spent three months rebuilding shatters.
Did he target Erin because of her ties to us? To the Kings? Fuck.
I put the phone down and look at Valentina. "Does Prior know?" I ask.
She shakes her head, her face pale and her eyes filled with tears.
I take out my phone and dial Prior.
He answers on the second ring. "Lorenzo."
"Is Landon home?” I ask, there’s an edge to my tone.
"Yes. Why, what happened?" Prior's snaps.
I look at the security footage still paused on Valentina's phone on Frederick Hightower's face.
"Frederick has Erin," I say. "And Prior..." I pause. "She's pregnant. The baby is Landon's."
A long silence.
“Fuck,” he snarls, low and angry.
Quinn's hand tightens on my arm. I look at her and she's watching me with those green eyes, her hand at her stomach, afraid but trying not to show it. She's trying to be strong when everything is falling apart around her.
Fuck. The war I thought we'd won just started all over again.