Chapter 17
Tommaso
Silvio and Marco force me out of the room as Johnathon and Reese check Gina over.
In the last few days, she’s had multiple CT scans, blood tests, and neurological tests while she remained unconscious.
She’s on medication to prevent a seizure, to keep her intracranial blood pressure low, plus whatever they can give her for pain management that won’t be contraindicated for managing a subdural hematoma.
A fucking subdural hematoma. She could’ve died…probably would have if I hadn’t gotten her to the hospital when I did.
Thankfully, she didn’t need brain surgery, and Reese assures me that the hematoma is small and stable, so she should have a full recovery.
Except…
She doesn’t know who I am.
Based on her confusion and her not even knowing who she was when she started to wake up previously, Reese warned me that she could have amnesia. But now that she’s fully awake with amnesia, it’s like shrapnel to my guts.
I had gotten her rings made on rush order—the jeweler had worked non-stop. I wanted that symbol on her finger, reinforcing to any staff who had been cleared to be part of her medical team that she was my wife. And when Gina was fully lucid, I wanted to convince her to marry me as soon as possible.
But with her amnesia, the ring plays a different, even more important role in my plan as I quickly pivot.
I’m standing outside of her room, watching through the window, refusing to take my eyes off her, while Reese and Johnathon check her over.
She’s not in the ICU, but in a separate, private room that has nursing staff with her twenty-four-seven, constantly monitoring her.
She’s been admitted to the hospital under the name Sól Vita.
Sól is the Norse sun goddess, and Vita is Italian for life. She is a goddess, she is my sun, and she is my life.
Marco rests a hand on my shoulder. “She might not remember you, but her heart does.”
“He’s right,” Silvio adds. “Just the sound of your voice and touch soothed her, T.”
They know everything—all that transpired between Gina and me, that I’m in love with her, and what my plan is. They’re not just accomplices, though; they’re my conspirators, helping me execute it. Even my normally cautious brother Marco, is in on it.
Without taking my eyes off Gina, I ask them, “What are the updates on finding Caruso and Leandro?”
They both tense on either side of me, and Marco says, “Nothing yet.”
“Are they in Catanzaro?” I try to stop my teeth from grinding.
It’s one theory I have; that they fled to the Pisani palatial home in the countryside of Catanzaro, seeking refuge there as conspirators for whatever they were planning when they were here.
However, communication is nonexistent from the Pisanis, and word is that they’re limiting any comings and goings due to Emanuele’s rapidly declining health. Vincenzo has not returned any of my calls, and my father has been no help.
I can’t exactly tell him why I need to speak to Vincenzo or Emanuele on his sickbed, though, can I?
And my father is more concerned about pressuring me to move up the wedding date, claiming we need to secure this alliance as soon as possible.
My only saving grace is that Rosa is a vain woman who insists on an over-the-top, lavish affair, including a custom-made dress from some designer in France, and that all takes time.
So, I’ve bought myself a bit of time, but only three to four months, max.
Gina shifts on the bed, rubbing her forehead, and meets my eyes. Three to four months will have to be enough. It has to be. Because if anyone finds out about her and what I’m planning before I can fully protect her, they won’t hesitate to kill her because she’s a threat.
I give her a smile, keeping all the tumultuous worry and concern off my face, wearing my perfect Don mask. She gives me a timid smile back.
I hate that she’s timid. Unsure. Hesitant. She’s always been so bold and courageous.
And I’ll help her discover that woman again.
“However,” Silvio says, pulling me out of my head, “we did find Guila and Davide’s bodies.”
My jaw hardens. “How did they die?”
“Davide’s throat was cut,” Marco says.
“Guila’s neck was snapped,” Silvio adds.
My fists clench. Did Gina witness that? Is that, along with the head wound, what’s caused her memories to disappear? Did she witness something so traumatic that her mind is protecting her?
“Have the coroner keep Guila in preservation for now. We’ll give Davide a proper burial quietly.”
“For how long?” Silvio asks in surprise.
My head snaps to him. “As long as it fucking takes. Gina will be allowed to lay her mother to rest with a proper funeral.” When she’s able to face that.
He exhales slowly. “I’m not challenging you, Tommaso. But it’s risky keeping bodies on ice that are connected to us.”
I know, but I don’t give a shit.
I turn back to Gina. She looks exhausted as she talks to Reese, and her battered face makes me murderous. Johnathon meets my eyes as he walks to the door.
He steps out into the hallway and points down the hall, telling me he wants to talk out of view of the window.
I reluctantly follow him, but only a few steps, because I can’t bring myself to be any farther from Gina than that.
“You need to be patient with her,” he starts.
I fist the collar of his white doctor’s coat and slam him against the wall. “Was I not patient with her?”
Marco grips my shoulders and yanks me back. I go because Johnathon isn’t the one I want to kill.
He’s calm and stands his ground. “You were, and she needs more of that, Tommaso. Not this.” He waves his hand at me. “You’re radiating violence. You need to fucking chill because she’ll sense it. Right now, she feels safe with you. She trusts you.”
“She said that?” My heart is in my throat.
“Yes.”
“When can I take her home?”
“Reese wants another forty-eight hours of monitoring before we give her the all-clear for discharge.”
I nod and force myself to ask, “Any other effects from the head trauma?”
“Her reflexes are good, and she has feeling in all her extremities. She’s weak, which is to be expected, but it’s something we’ll monitor.
We’ll help her get up and stand in a bit, then progress to walking a few steps to see how she does.
She’s a bit foggy right now, and don’t be alarmed if she fatigues quickly over the next few days. ”
“Thank you, Johnathon.”
“Be patient with her,” he reminds me before striding away.
I turn back to Marco and Silvio, my most trusted men. “I have a list of things I need done at the house.”
They both nod.
I’ve been only doing the urgent must-dos of ruling from what I can do here, and I’ll continue that from my home when Gina is discharged.
But I’ve surrounded myself with capable, trusted men in the upper ranks of my kingdom.
I may be controlled, but unlike my father has become, I’m not a control freak.
I know I can’t do it all on my own; I need my VPs and executives just like a CEO of a conglomerate does.
But to avoid rumors, because the underworld is gossipy as hell, I need to be seen. That’s where Marco will play an extra role. We’re frequently mistaken for twins, although up close, there are stark differences. However, from afar, it will do.
I eye his more casual wear compared to mine—a simple pair of slacks with a button-down. “First off, Marco, is to get you a wardrobe of suits.”
“Not the monkey suits,” he says in defeated annoyance.
I clap his shoulder with a smile, the first one in the past few days. Then I head back into the room, unable to resist the gravitational pull of the center of my world.