Chapter 8
Enzo
For the past two days, I’ve been working my ass off.
Between making sure Riccardo was safe at the meeting yesterday morning with the cartel, getting new construction projects off the ground, and vetting and interviewing potential associates wanting to work with the Cosa Nostra, I haven’t even been home.
Then there’s the fucking crew who thought they could extort local business owners and pocket the money without me finding out.
The four men are kneeling in front of me, looking worse for wear after two other crews got to have a go at them.
“You dragged the family’s name through the mud,” I mutter, too exhausted to really give a shit.
“Sorry, boss,” they all whisper, scared I’m going to put a bullet in each of their heads, which I actually considered.
“You’ll be split up and assigned to new crews. You’ll do all the grunt work for the next six months and lose earning privileges.” When their heads snap up, I add, “You’re back to basic wages. Fuck this up, and you’re dead.”
They might be very unhappy, but they’re wise enough to keep their mouths shut.
Leaving Pino, one of our captains who was just promoted, in charge, I walk to the exit of the warehouse.
Just then, my phone rings, and sighing, I pull the device out. Seeing Alessio’s name, I answer, “What?”
“Can you come to the fortress? Rosie isn’t responding to my request to enter so I can do a sweep of the building.”
“On my way.” The instant I get into the Mustang, my phone connects to the dashboard screen. “Call Rosie,” I order.
I listen as it rings before going to voicemail. ‘I’m busy. You know what to do.’
Worried, I slam the Mustang into first gear and floor the gas. The tires squeal, leaving smoke hanging in the air as I speed away from the warehouse.
What’s supposed to be a twenty-minute drive from the warehouse to Rosie’s fortress, I reduce to ten minutes and a handful of fines from all the traffic laws I break.
Alessio stands armed with a submachine gun at the entrance when I bring the Mustang to a stop, and as I jump out and draw my own weapon, he says, “She’s still not answering.”
I scan my biometrics and only wait for the steel door to lift enough for us to duck beneath it, then I run for the elevator and key in my code. Alessio joins me a second later, and with every security hoop I have to jump through, my impatience and worry grow.
She’s not even smart-mouthing me on the way up, which she always does.
When the second elevator’s door slides open to her command center, an alarm beeps incessantly. I rush inside, and seeing Rosie slumped over her desk, looking fast asleep, I let out a harsh breath of relief.
“It’s okay, Alessio. I’ll let you out,” I say so he’ll leave.
I type in my code to silence the alarm that was activated when Rosie didn’t respond to Alessio’s request to enter. It’s meant to wake her up in case of an emergency.
This is not the first time she’s worked herself sick, and I’ve had to deal with the consequences several times before.
I should’ve known this was coming when I saw her in the same clothes yesterday morning. Fuck knows how long she pushed herself before she passed out.
Making sure Alessio leaves, I send out a group text to everyone.
Enzo: Rosie has crashed and will be offline for the next two days. Survive on your own.
Putting my phone away, I grab the central remote Rosie is obsessed with having on her at all times and also shove it into my pocket. Hooking an arm beneath her knees and another around her back, I lift her to my chest.
Her head slumps against my shoulder, and she mumbles something unintelligible.
“You overdid it again,” I snap as I walk to the elevator and ride down to the seventh floor.
“Gonna puke,” she groans, and when she begins to move, I say, “Try to hold it in for a few seconds longer.”
The doors open into her apartment, and I haul ass to the nearest restroom.
Rosie’s body jerks, and just as I set her down on her feet, she loses the contents of her stomach, which are only fluids. Some of it lands on her shirt, and gripping the back of her neck, I position her over the toilet.
Fuck knows when she last ate something. Probably the goddamn carrots yesterday morning.
While I wait for her to stop heaving, anger swirls in my chest.
Knowing she won’t take in anything I say right now, I keep quiet, and once she seems okay, I grab toilet paper and clean her mouth and shirt before I flush the toilet.
“Sorry,” she whispers, swaying a little.
Picking her up again, I head straight to her bedroom and only stop when I put her down in the shower.
“I’ve got it,” she mumbles, and when I don’t move, her bloodshot eyes meet mine. “I’ll be quick.”
“Five minutes, then I’m coming in,” I say, my tone tense with anger because she has once again put everyone before her own fucking health.
I leave the bathroom and pull the door shut behind me. Leaning against it, I rub my hand over my face and let out a tired sigh.
It’s not all Rosie’s fault. No one gives her a moment’s peace. Whenever a request or order comes through from the rest of the family, she has to do it. She carries the entire fucking Cosa Nostra on her shoulders.
Rosie didn’t even finish her fucking haircut yesterday.
I shake my head, very unhappy with how hard she’s pushing herself. Listening to the water running, I rein in my anger.
When the shower switches off, I hear Rosie moving around, then she asks, “Can you pass me a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, please?”
“Okay.” I push away from the door and walk into her closet.
Grabbing the clothes, my eyes touch on her underwear for a split second. The moment the black lace registers, I rush out of her closet. Opening the bathroom door slightly, I push my arm through with the clothes, and once Rosie takes everything, I shut it again.
I don’t have to wait long for her to come out and only point at the bed.
“Yeah-yeah,” she grumbles, but when she drops down on top of the covers, she lets out a tired groan.
Walking closer, I push my arm beneath her and tug the covers out from under her body. After tucking her in, I brace my hands on either side of her head and lock eyes with her.
“You’re going to stay in this bed until I say otherwise. Got it?”
At first, I think her eyes are watering because of the light sensitivity, but then her chin quivers, and I realize she’s crying.
She turns onto her side, and with shaky hands, she grips her pillow.
Feeling like shit, I sit down beside her and rub my hand up and down her back. “I’m just pissed off because you pushed yourself too hard. Again.”
“What about you?” she whispers. “You’re still in the same clothes as yesterday and haven’t been home.”
“I can handle it. You, on the other hand, keep going until you drop. It has to stop, Rosie!”
“Don’t fight with me,” she whimpers, and I feel even shittier.
I lean over her and brush her hair away from her forehead. “I’m not fighting.” I press a kiss to her temple. “Sleep, bella mia.”
“I like it when you call me that,” she mumbles, half out of it. The corner of her mouth lifts, and a second later her breath evens out, and she falls asleep.
I stare at Rosie’s pale skin, and unable to stop myself, I drink in the sight of the elegant lines of her features. Her button nose, high cheekbones, and long lashes.
My attention drifts lower to her lips, which are soft and full.
I hesitate for a moment before leaning closer and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Keeping still, I take a deep breath of her vanilla and lime bodywash, which mixes with her unique scent.
Knowing I have to get some sleep myself, I climb to my feet and head out to my car to grab my to-go bag so I can shower.
“Is she okay?” Alessio asks when I step out of the fortress.
“Yeah. Rosie overworked herself.” I walk to the car, and opening the back door, I grab my bag.
A car pulls up, and Raffaele gets out, a concerned look on his face. “Alessio called and told me Rosie is down. Are you staying the night?”
“I’ll be here until she’s rested,” I inform both men.
“Good.” Alessio gives me a chin lift before walking to his SUV so he can head home while the night shift takes over.
“I’ll hang around for the next week or so as well,” Raffaele says before he walks in the direction of the other guards.
I scan my biometrics, and as I go back to Rosie’s apartment, I check my phone and scroll through all the emails that have been piling up over the past two days.
Back in Rosie’s bedroom, I put my phone on charge before heading into the bathroom and taking a shower. Afterward, I brush my teeth, and only putting on sweatpants, I clap my hands once to switch off the lights while I lie down beside Rosie.
Letting out a relieved breath, I turn my head and wait for my eyes to adjust to the dark.
“Hi,” Rosie suddenly whispers.
I scoot closer and push my arm beneath her head, then tug her tightly to my side. “Hey.”
“Still angry with me?”
“No.” I brush my palm over her hair and press a kiss to her forehead while turning my body into hers. “Sleep.”
Rosie pushes her face into the crook of my neck, and I hear how she takes a deep breath before she relaxes completely.
It only takes a minute or so for me to fall asleep, and when I wake up again, I’m confused for a moment.
I blink the sleep away and rub my left eye, then glance down at Rosie, who’s still pressed tightly against me. Neither of us moved at all during the night.
My thoughts drift into dangerous territory while I hold her tightly, loving the feel of her in my arms.
In my own way, I’ve tried to give Rosie everything I can without making things official between us.
She begins to stir and rubs her face against my throat. “What?” Suddenly, she yanks back, and when her eyes focus on me, they go wide. “Shit, sorry for sleeping all over you.”
“No worries.” I climb out of bed, and wanting to give her some privacy, I head to the kitchen and get the coffee machine going.
I open the fridge and check what I can use to make Rosie a healthy breakfast.
Thank God I went with her on the last shopping trip.
I grab a dozen eggs and other ingredients, then get to work.
Sensing Rosie, I glance over my shoulder. “How do you feel?” I ask while she goes straight for the coffee.
“Okay.”
She keeps squinting, and I stop beating the eggs. Walking to the cupboard where she keeps medicine, I open it and search through everything until I find eye drops.
As I check the expiry date, I move closer to her and say, “Tilt your head back.”
“Wait. Tissue.” She grabs one from a nearby box, then turns her face up.
I keep my touch gentle as I hold her eyes open, squeezing two drops into each one.
She blinks several times and wipes the artificial tears away. “Thanks.”
I set the eyedrops down on her kitchen table, and while I continue beating the eggs, Rosie pours two mugs of coffee. She sets one down beside me, then asks, “Where are my electronics?”
“Upstairs. The remote is in the bedroom. I’ve told everyone to leave you alone for two days.”
“That’s too…” I silence her with a shake of my head. “Fine. What are we making for breakfast?”
“You can grill sausages while I take care of the scrambled eggs.”
“And the green stuff?” she asks, eyeing the spinach.
“You will eat everything I put on your plate,” I order, my tone clearly stating I won’t take any shit from her today. “And once the food has settled, we’re running laps in the parking area to get the blood pumping through your body.”
“I can think of other things… oooh, forget I even started that sentence.”
It’s easy to guess what she was going to say.
Silence falls between us while we prepare the food, and once we’re each seated at the table with a plate of scrambled eggs, sautéed spinach and mushrooms, and turkey sausage, I ask, “What kept you so busy the past few days?”
“Someone kept trying to hack my system.” She takes a bite of the sausage. “They were good.”
“Should I be worried?”
She shakes her head. “Nah. They’re not that good.”
Hearing my phone ring, I set my cutlery down, but then Rosie lifts her eyebrows at me. “If I don’t get my phone, neither do you. As soon as you take a call, I’m going back to work.”
“You blackmailing me now?”
A grin spreads over her face. “It’s only fair. You need to rest as well.”
We continue eating, and by the time my phone rings for the sixth time, Rosie mutters, “Jesus!” She gets up from the table and walks away, and a minute later I hear her snap, “Handle the shit yourselves… Enzo is mine until I’m better…
I don’t care if you’re the boss, Christiano.
Do you want me to spam you with granny nudes?
... Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Her tone turns sarcastic as she mutters, “Sure, I’ll tell him that. Bye.”
Rosie comes back and sits down again, and I stare at her while she takes a bite of the scrambled eggs.
When it’s clear she’s not going to say anything, I ask, “Tell me what?”
“Nothing worth repeating.” Picking up her coffee, she finishes it while meeting my stare. “I’ll run two laps.”
“Ten.”
“Hell no.” She sets the empty mug down. “Three.”
Climbing to my feet, I gather the plates. “Nine.”
“Four. That’s my final offer.”
“Five if you tell me what Christiano said.”
“Four.”
Relenting, I nod.
“He said we…” She gestures between us. “…might as well live together. You spend more time here than anywhere else.”
Shaking my head, I load everything into the dishwasher before looking at Rosie again, and noticing the tired lines on her face, I say, “Go lie down on the couch. You need more sleep.”
“I’m too tired to argue,” she sighs while getting up. As she walks to the living room, she asks, “You coming?”
“Yeah.”
We each pick a couch and slump down. I expect Rosie to put on the TV for background noise, but instead, she closes her eyes and whispers, “Thanks for being here.”
“Always.”
While she falls asleep, I stare up at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge that my brother is right.