Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
cesare
"Want to tell me what the fuck is going on with you?" I ask Lorenzo once my meetings are finished.
"What do you mean?" he asks, acting like he has no fucking idea what I'm talking about.
"You are constantly watching my wife."
His lips twitch at the sides. "You're extremely attached to your wife, Father. I hadn't expected that. Hell, I don't think I've seen you so protective of anyone except your children. Yet the moment that sleazy politician tries to speak with her, you lose your mind."
I ignore his words and refocus on what I set out to ask. "Why are you watching her?"
He laughs. "I'm not interested, if that's what you're thinking. I don't think I'm the right age category for her, Father. But there's so much she's hiding. She's extremely intelligent, isn't she?"
I study Lorenzo carefully, trying to gauge his true intentions. "Yes, she is," I admit. "More than I initially gave her credit for. But that doesn't explain your constant scrutiny."
Lorenzo leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "I'm trying to figure her out," he says finally. "There's more to her than meets the eye. The way she handled Zhang Longwei at the gala, speaking fluent Mandarin... it's impressive. And potentially useful."
I feel a surge of pride at his words, followed quickly by possessiveness. "Vittoria is my wife," I say, my voice low as I give him a warning. "She’s not a tool for you to use in your schemes."
Lorenzo holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Of course, Father. I'm merely pointing out she could be a valuable asset to our family. If properly guided."
His words echo my own thoughts when I first met Vittoria, but now they leave a sour taste. "She's not just an asset," I find myself saying. "She's family now."
Lorenzo's eyebrows raise slightly. "I see," he says, a hint of surprise in his voice. "You care for her."
It's not a question, but I feel compelled to respond anyway. "She's my wife," I say gruffly. "Of course I care for her wellbeing."
A knowing smile plays at Lorenzo's lips. "Of course," he echoes. "Well, you can rest assured, Father. I have no designs on your wife. I'm simply... observing."
I nod, not entirely satisfied with his answer but willing to let it go for now. "See that it stays that way," I warn. "And tell your siblings to start treating Vittoria with respect. She's not going anywhere."
Lorenzo stands, straightening his suit. "I'll pass along the message," he says. "Though I can't promise they'll listen. Especially Valentina."
I sigh, rubbing my temples. Valentina has been the most openly hostile toward Vittoria. "I'll deal with Valentina myself," I say. "Just make sure the others fall in line."
Before Lorenzo can leave, my phone rings. Glancing down, I see it's Fabio, one of Vittoria's guards.
Fuck. This can't be good.
"Sir," Fabio says, voice hesitant. "There's been an incident."
My blood turns to ice. "What kind of incident?" I demand, voice sharp despite feeling cold inside.
There's a pause, and I can hear tension when he finally speaks. "It's Mrs. Mariano, sir. She's been attacked."
The world tilts on its axis. "Where?" I growl, already moving toward the door.
"At the restaurant where she was meeting her mother," Fabio replies. "In the women's restroom. We... we didn't realize anything was wrong until it was too late."
Rage courses through me, at the attacker and at my men's incompetence. "How bad is it?" I ask, dreading the answer.
Another pause. "She's unconscious, sir. Visible bruises on her neck and her arm appears injured. We've called for medical assistance."
"I'm on my way," I snap, ending the call. I turn to Lorenzo, who's watching with concern. "Vittoria's been attacked. Handle things here while I deal with this."
Lorenzo nods, expression grim. "Of course, Father. Do you want me to send additional security?"
"Yes," I say, already heading out. "And start investigating. I want to know who did this and why."
The drive to the restaurant is a blur. Who would dare attack my wife? And in such a public place? The implications are staggering.
When I arrive, the scene is chaos. Police cars and an ambulance crowd the parking lot, lights flashing. I push through the crowd, glaring at officers who try to stop me.
I find Vittoria on a stretcher, paramedics hovering over her. The sight of her, pale and unconscious, angry red marks on her throat, sends fresh fury through me.
"Mr. Mariano," one of the paramedics addresses me. "We're preparing to transport your wife to the hospital. Her injuries are serious but not life-threatening."
I nod, struggling to maintain composure. "I'm riding with her," I say, my tone leaving no room for argument.
As we speed toward the hospital, I hold Vittoria's hand, careful not to disturb the IV. She looks so small, so vulnerable. Such a contrast to the strong, defiant woman I've come to know.
At the hospital, I'm forced to wait while they examine her. Minutes drag by like hours. Finally, a doctor approaches.
"Mr. Mariano?" she says. "I'm Dr. Romano. I've been treating your wife."
"How is she?" I ask, voice rough with emotion.
Dr. Romano's expression is serious. "Mrs. Mariano has sustained several injuries. Significant bruising around her neck, consistent with strangulation. Her right shoulder was dislocated, which we've reset. She also has a mild concussion and bruising on her torso."
Each word feels like a physical blow. The image of someone hurting Vittoria, choking her, fills me with barely contained rage.
"When will she wake up?" I ask, struggling to keep my voice steady.
"She regained consciousness briefly," Dr. Romano explains. "But we've sedated her for pain management. She should be fully awake in a few hours."
I nod, processing this. "Can I see her?"
Dr. Romano leads me to Vittoria's room. The sight of her lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to monitors, makes my chest tighten. Her neck is mottled with bruises, her arm in a sling. She looks so young, and so fragile.
I sink into the chair beside her bed, taking her uninjured hand in mine. "I'm sorry, Tori," I whisper, guilt crushing me. I should have protected her better. I should have known something like this could happen.
As I sit there holding her hand, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor, my phone buzzes. A text from Lorenzo:
Security footage recovered. You need to see this.
I frown, wondering what could be so urgent. I don't want to leave Vittoria's side, but if Lorenzo thinks it's important, it damn well is.
I press a gentle kiss to Vittoria's forehead before stepping out. "Watch her," I growl to the guards stationed outside. "No one enters this room without my explicit permission."
I find a quiet corner and call Lorenzo. "What is it?" I demand as soon as he picks up.
"Father," Lorenzo's voice is tense. "We've identified Vittoria's attacker from the security footage. It's... it's Domenico Costa. Her father."
The world stops for a moment as his words sink in. Domenico Costa. Vittoria's own father.
That bastard. I fucking knew he hurt her; I just didn't think he'd be stupid enough to do it again.
"Send me the footage," I say, voice dangerously calm. "And put out the word. I want Domenico Costa found. Alive."
I end the call and return to Vittoria's room, my mind racing. How long has this been going on? How many times has that monster hurt her? The fear I sometimes saw in her eyes... it all makes sense now.
I retake my seat beside her bed, gently stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry, Tori," I whisper. "I should have protected you better. But I promise, he will never hurt you again."
The meeting that I had with that bastard has obviously not been heeded.
I warned him to stay away from my wife. He acted affronted as though he had no idea of what I was talking about, but I saw through the bullshit facade, I knew he’d been hurting my wife, I thought he’d have listened to me when I told him our business would end if he went anywhere near her again.
He obviously didn’t take me seriously, now he’ll pay the price for it.
Hours pass before Vittoria finally stirs. Her eyes flutter open, confusion clouding her gaze as she tries to focus on her surroundings.
"Tori?" I say softly, leaning forward. "How are you feeling?"
She tries to speak, but only a raspy croak comes out. I quickly grab the water cup from the bedside table and help her take small sips.
"Better?" I ask after she's had some water.
She nods weakly, wincing at the movement. "What... what happened?" she whispers.
I study her face carefully. "You were attacked in the restaurant bathroom. Do you remember anything?"
Fear flashes in her eyes before she quickly looks away. "I... I fell," she says, her voice barely audible. "I was dizzy and fell."
Anger boils in my chest at her obvious lie. "Tori," I say, voice low and intense, "I know it was your father. We have security footage."
Her eyes widen in panic, and she tries to sit up, immediately crying out in pain from her injured shoulder.
"Easy," I say, gently helping her lie back down. "You're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore."
Tears spring to her eyes. "You don't understand," she whispers. "If you go after him, it'll destroy everything. The alliance—”
"Fuck the alliance," I growl, surprising myself with the vehemence in my voice. "He nearly killed you, Tori. He choked you unconscious and left you on a bathroom floor like garbage."
"But the families—”
"Will understand that no one touches my wife," I cut her off. "No one. Not even her own father."
Vittoria stares at me, something unreadable in her expression. "Why?" she asks softly. "Why does it matter so much to you?"
The question catches me off guard. A month ago, I would have said it was about respect, about maintaining the appearance of power. But looking at her now, broken and bruised because of her own father's cruelty, I realize the truth is more complicated.
"Because you're mine to protect now," I say finally. "And I failed you today."
Tears spill down her cheeks. "You didn't fail me, Cesare. You couldn't have known—”
"I should have known," I interrupt. "The signs were there. I chose to ignore them."
I lean forward, gently cupping her uninjured cheek. "But it ends now, Tori. Your father will answer for what he's done."
"Please," she whispers. "Don't start a war over me. I'm not worth it."
Her words hit me like a physical blow. "Don't you ever fucking say that again," I growl. "You are my wife. That makes you worth everything."
She stares at me in shock, and I realize I mean every word. Somewhere along the way, Vittoria stopped being just a political arrangement. She became something more.
Something worth protecting.
"Rest now," I say, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I have some business to take care of."
As I stand to leave, Vittoria's good hand catches mine. "Cesare," she says, voice barely a whisper. "Be careful. My father... he's dangerous when cornered."
I squeeze her hand gently. "So am I, caramia. So am I."
The drive back to the house gives me time to plan. Domenico Costa thinks he can continue terrorizing his daughter even after she's become a Mariano?
He's about to learn how wrong he is.
I pull out my phone and dial Lorenzo. "Status report," I demand when he answers.
"We've located Domenico. He's at his rental property, apparently preparing to leave town tomorrow."
"Good. Gather the men. We're paying him a visit tonight."
"Father," Lorenzo's voice carries a note of caution. "If we move against him directly, it could fracture the alliance—”
"The alliance is already fucked," I cut him off. "The moment he put his hands on my wife, he made it personal."
There's silence on the other end before Lorenzo speaks again. "Understood. How do you want to handle this?"
"Carefully," I reply. "We can't just kill him outright, not yet. But he needs to understand that there are consequences for his actions."
"And if he refuses to back down?"
I think of Vittoria lying in that hospital bed, of the terror in her eyes when she tried to protect him even after what he did.
"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
As I hang up, one thing is crystal clear in my mind: Domenico Costa made a fatal mistake when he hurt my wife.
And I'm going to make sure he never gets the chance to do it again.