Chapter 39 Massimo
MASSIMO
Iwent back to my house to gear up and wait for the address from Giada.
Paolo fluttered around me as I strode down to the basement and punched the code into the keypad.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” he said, worried.
“What’s happening is that Katarina never made it to Florence,” I called to him, moving along the rows of weapons I kept down there. My stock was extensive. I had a private arsenal under the city and a weapon for every occasion.
Now I was dressed in black combat gear, the type with plenty of straps and hooks to fit ammo, knives, and guns into for easy access.
“You look like you’re going to war,” Paolo said miserably.
“Maybe I am.”
The phone rang somewhere in the distance, but I didn’t really register it until Paolo appeared and called to me.
“It’s Father Vittorio.”
I strode into the hallway and took the phone from him. “What?”
“What? I wanted to see how my friend was recovering. Is that a crime?”
“I’m fine.”
“You sound it.”
“I am.”
Vittorio sighed. “Paolo told me what’s going on.”
I shot a dark glare at my housekeeper, and he sidled farther down the hallway.
“It’s not your problem.”
Vittorio chuckled. “You see, it kind of is, because you’re my friend. You can’t go alone.”
“And yet, I’m going to. I’m not afraid to die, Vittorio, you know that.”
“But you aren’t afraid of failing and leaving her there?”
That question cut through the hot, urgent storm in my head.
“You need backup. Someone on your wing.”
“I won’t ask you to kill anyone, Vittorio. You’ve left that life behind.”
“Yes I have, but I can watch your six.”
I argued a little longer fruitlessly, then hung up.
The only way to stop Vittorio when he’d made his mind up about something was to try and leave before he got there.
But I had no control over that, seeing as Giada seemed determined to make sure her brother could arrive before she sent me the address.
I had no idea what I’d done in my sorry life that made these people work hard to protect me, but they had to be fools.
I went upstairs and forced some food down. Bread and cheese, olives and tomatoes. I needed energy to fight. I couldn’t afford to be weak.
While my hands moved mechanically, bringing food to my mouth, reaching for water, my mind kept returning to Blackwood’s crowded office.
I couldn’t stop seeing it. The hospital logo at the top of the paper. I couldn’t stop Giada’s voice from speaking again and again in my head.
Katarina never met her outside the hotel.
For the first time in a long, long time, I had something to fight for. It didn’t matter if she was mad at me. It didn’t matter if I’d fucked up beyond forgiveness. I’d told my angel that she wasn’t alone anymore. I meant to keep that promise. No matter the cost.
The message came from Giada a few hours later. I’d nearly worn a hole in the parapet waiting for it.
Giada: 14, Corso Giuseppe Gabetti, Borgo Po.
Elio is en route.
Me: You seriously made me wait this long just to give your brother a chance to get closer?
Giada: Yeah, I seriously did, because I knew you weren’t going to wait
Me: Waiting means giving that man longer alone with Katarina
Giada: I’m sure she can handle herself. She survived just fine before you came along. Girl’s a fighter.
I blew out a breath of frustration.
Me: You should know, in the interest of our future work relationship, that trying to control me isn’t going to work.
Giada: Isn’t that what your wife said to you? Or you just don’t like it when the shoe is on the other foot?
I growled with frustration, her little dig getting under my skin. Goddamn it, she was right, after all.
Paolo hovered near the door when I headed that way.
“What should I do?” he fretted.
“I will send Katarina here. She’ll either be with me or she won’t,” I stated flatly. “If she’s alone, tend to her and call Filippa to check her over. Make her feel safe here. Later, once she’s ready, get a lawyer to go over my estate with her. She’s my wife and she’ll be a very wealthy widow.”
“Massimo!” Paolo exclaimed as I made for the door.
“And don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you either. I’ve left you the place on the coast. You’ve always wanted to retire to Amalfi, haven’t you? The beach house you love. It’s yours.”
Paolo stopped dead in the hall and shook his head. I took him in for the first time in a long time.
“Why are you acting like you won’t come back?” he asked.
“Because I’m a realist and I like to be prepared.
” I patted the old man on the shoulder. “I know my odds. It’s not some guy who’s taken my wife hostage.
It’s the head of the Stoyanov family, who lives in a castle-like compound.
They’re going to be armed and they’re not afraid to kill.
That’s okay. It means we can play on the same level.
Getting Katarina out and safe is my only priority. ”
“You should make it a priority to come home with her.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. My life had always been the expendable component. Not caring if I died had made me a lethal weapon, and caring about that now would only make me weak when I couldn’t afford to be.
“Take care of her, I’m trusting you,” I told Paolo instead, and stepped out the door.
It was dark outside, light flurries of snow whirling around the light from the lampposts. As I went for my car, a sharp whistle cut through the sleepy silence of the residential street.
I turned and saw them. Two figures in black walking toward me.
“Look who I ran into.” Vittorio smiled and elbowed Elio in the side lightly.
Our former commander eyed me up and down. I’d only just seen him a couple of months ago, when I’d gotten mixed up in his business. I didn’t know what to make of the fact that he’d come here for me. Vittorio, either.
“We just need Filippa here, and it’s a reunion,” Elio murmured, and stared up at the townhouse behind me. “This your place?”
I nodded. “I’d give you the tour, but we have places to be.”
“Later then,” Elio agreed, and then caught my eye. “After.”
It sat unspoken between us that there might not be an after. The idea of that had never bothered me before, but now something festered in the pit of my stomach. A thrill of nerves I never usually felt. A fear of losing something before I’d ever really gotten the chance to have it.
“I can’t take you, Vittorio. I can’t make you break your vows—”
“I’ve already broken them. Who do you think sent you to Hallow Hall in the first place?” Vittorio’s voice was pained and heavy.
I stared at him in shock. “You took out the hit on Vargas?”
Vittorio nodded. “Once I suspected what was going on with him, I had to find a way to end it. I needed someone good, someone who would make sure that whole place was shut down as soon as he got to know the real deal. I needed you. There aren’t many killers for hire with a conscience.”
A raw laugh left me. “What about your worries about my immortal soul?”
Vittorio hung his head. “Forgive me. I needed—”
“A monster? A condemned man?” I asked.
He shook his head, guilt written across his face.
I patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. I understand. I wouldn’t change it, not a single moment . . . because you brought me to her. Thank you. I’ll owe you for the rest of my life.”
Vittorio blinked, his eyes teary, then he cleared his throat. “Okay, well then, good. No more arguing about me tagging along, okay?”
“Enough chitchat. Let’s gear up. I don’t think a rosary or holy water is going to cut it,” Elio announced. “You got a gun for the good father, Lucciano?”
It was a bizarre thing to see these two men, whom I’d once risked life and death with, standing there on this quiet, ordinary street.
Suddenly, I was glad not to be alone. Glad to be someone valued by these two men, men better than I’d ever be.
It was humbling. It made me feel things I had no experience with.
I grinned at him. “Do I ever. Come inside.”