Chapter 9 #2
Before she can finish, there's a knock at the door. Lorenzo enters, his expression urgent. His gaze goes from me to Vittoria lying in the bed, and I see anger flash in his eyes before he turns back to me.
"Boss," he says. "We've got a lead."
I stand quickly, torn between duty and desire to stay with Vittoria. She seems to sense my dilemma.
"Go," she says softly. "Do what you need to do."
I lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'll be back soon," I promise. "Rest, and don't worry. You're safe here."
Vittoria nods, her eyes already drifting closed. I give her hand one last squeeze before following Lorenzo out.
In the hallway, I turn to him, voice low and dangerous. "What do you have?"
"One of our informants spotted Domenico Costa at a small private airfield outside the city," he reports. "He's trying to charter a plane to Ireland."
My jaw clenches. "He's running. Coward."
"We have men en route to intercept," Lorenzo continues. "They should be there within the hour."
I nod, mind racing. "Tell them to bring him to the warehouse on the docks. And make sure he's alive when they do."
As he moves to relay orders, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's coming. Domenico Costa will pay for what he's done to Vittoria.
But first, I need answers.
I make my way back to Vittoria's room, finding her asleep again. I watch her for a moment, the sight of her bruised and battered form reigniting my anger.
Leaning down, I whisper in her ear, "I'll make this right, Tori. I promise."
With one last look at her sleeping form, I turn and leave the hospital, my mind focused on the task ahead. Domenico Costa's day of reckoning has arrived, and I intend to make sure he feels every ounce of pain he's inflicted on his daughter.
The car pulls up to the abandoned warehouse, and I step out, straightening my suit. Lorenzo waits with three of our men, Bruno, Vito, and Paolo.
Inside, everything is ready. Domenico Costa is tied to a chair in the center of the room, his face already showing signs of rough handling.
Good. He deserves far fucking worse.
As I approach Domenico, I can see fear in his eyes. He knows exactly why he's here and what's coming. But I'm not here for a quick execution.
No, Domenico Costa has some explaining to do first.
"Cesare," he croaks, voice hoarse. "Please, this is all a misunderstanding—”
I silence him with a backhanded slap across the face, the sound echoing in the empty warehouse. "Shut the fuck up," I growl. "You don't get to speak unless I ask you a question. Understood?"
Domenico nods frantically, blood trickling from his split lip.
I begin circling him slowly, like a predator stalking prey. "For years," I say, my voice dangerously calm, "you've been abusing your own daughter. Your flesh and blood. Why?"
Domenico's eyes dart around wildly, looking for escape. When he doesn't answer immediately, I nod to Bruno, who steps forward and lands a solid punch to his gut. The bastard doubles over as much as his restraints allow, gasping for air.
"I asked you a fucking question," I remind him coldly.
"She... she needed discipline," Domenico wheezes. "To learn her place. To be worthy of the Costa name."
His words ignite fresh fury within me. I grab a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back to force him to look at me. "Worthy?" I snarl. "She's worth a hundred of you, you pathetic excuse for a father."
I release him roughly, stepping back to regain composure. "You had a daughter who was intelligent, capable, and loyal. And instead of nurturing those qualities, you beat them out of her. Made her fear her own family."
Domenico's eyes flash with defiance. "You don't understand our ways, Mariano. In our family—”
"Family?" I cut him off, voice rising. "You dare speak of family? Family protects their own. Family lifts each other up. What you did... that's not family. That's fucking tyranny."
I turn to Lorenzo, who's been watching silently. "Show him the footage."
Lorenzo steps forward with a tablet, playing the security video from the restaurant. We all watch as Domenico follows Vittoria into the bathroom, grabs her by the throat, and slams her against the wall. The sound of Vittoria's head hitting tile is audible even through grainy audio.
As the video plays out, showing the full extent of Domenico's brutality, I watch his face. I see the moment when reality truly hits him, when he realizes there's no talking his way out of this.
When it ends, I step closer, voice low and deadly. "That's your daughter. Your child. And this is how you treat her?"
Domenico's face has gone pale, eyes wide with fear. "Please," he whimpers. "I... I lost control. It won't happen again. I swear it."
His pathetic pleas only fuel my rage. I grab him by the throat, mimicking his actions toward Vittoria. "You're right," I snarl. "It won't happen again. Because you will never lay a hand on her again. You will never even see her again."
I release him and step back, straightening my suit. "You know, Domenico, I've been thinking about the appropriate punishment for someone who abuses their own child. Death seems too quick, too merciful."
I nod to Vito, who steps forward with a small case. He opens it, revealing surgical tools.
"Do you know what these are for?" I ask conversationally. His eyes widen in terror as he shakes his head.
"These," I continue, picking up a scalpel, "are going to help me make sure you never hurt my wife again."
Domenico starts struggling against his restraints, panic clear in his eyes. "No, please! I'll do anything. I'll leave the country. You'll never hear from me again!"
I chuckle darkly. "Oh, I know I won't. Because by the time I'm done with you, you won't be able to speak. Or see. Or hear. Or touch. You'll be alive, Domenico, but unable to interact with the world in any meaningful way. Just like how you made Vittoria feel, trapped, helpless, and alone."
I turn to Lorenzo. "Make sure he stays conscious throughout. I want him to feel every cut, every slice."
As I prepare to begin, Domenico's terrified screams echo through the warehouse. But I feel no pity, no remorse.
This is justice; brutal, perhaps, but fitting for the crimes he's committed.
Hours later, I return to the hospital. My hands are clean, suit immaculate, but I feel the weight of what I've done. Not regret, never that, but grim satisfaction mixed with lingering anger.
I enter Vittoria's room quietly, not wanting to wake her. But I find her awake, eyes fixed on the window where sunlight streams in.
"Tori," I say softly, moving to her bedside.
She turns to look at me, eyes searching my face. "Is it done?" she asks, voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, taking her hand gently. "It's done. He will never hurt you again. I promise you that."
Vittoria's eyes close and she nods. "Thank you."
Christ, she shouldn't have to thank me. Not for that. Never for that.
"It's over," I assure her. "He'll never lay a hand on you or anyone else again."
Vittoria is quiet for a long moment, her eyes distant. When she speaks again, her voice is barely audible. "I used to dream about this, you know. About someone coming to save me from him. But I never really believed it would happen."
Her words hit me like a physical blow. I think of all the years she suffered in silence, dreaming of a rescue that never came.
Until now.
"I'm sorry it took so long," I say, voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry I didn't know sooner."
Vittoria turns to look at me, a small, sad smile on her lips. "You couldn't have known, Cesare. I was very good at hiding it."
I lean forward, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You don't have to hide anymore, Tori. Not from me. Not ever again."
She looks at me, eyes searching my face. "Promise?" she whispers.
"I promise," I say firmly. "You're safe now. You're home."
Vittoria's eyes fill with tears. I gather her gently in my arms, mindful of her injuries, as she begins to sob. Years of pent-up fear, pain, and relief pour out of her as I hold her.
As her sobs subside, I realize something has fundamentally shifted between us. This isn't just an arranged marriage anymore. It's not about alliances or business.
Somewhere along the way, Vittoria became truly important to me.
And I'll be damned if I ever let anyone hurt her again.
"Rest now," I tell her softly, laying her back against the pillows. "I'll be here when you wake up."
Vittoria nods, eyes already drifting closed. As she slips into sleep, I settle back in the chair beside her bed, prepared to keep watch for as long as necessary.
My phone buzzes with a text from Lorenzo: It's handled. Costa won't be a problem anymore.
I delete the message and put my phone away. Justice has been served.
Now I can focus on what really matters: taking care of my wife and building something real between us.
Something that started as a business arrangement but has become so much more.