Chapter 41 Gina
Gina
It’s been three days, and if I thought I felt isolated at Tommaso’s fortified estate, that has nothing on here.
I haven’t left this bedroom. It’s beautiful with honey-colored marble floors, fresco-touched ceilings, and carved antique furniture. There are white linens on the bed with a turquoise-blue cashmere blanket, and French doors that open to a balcony where you can see the ocean. But it’s still a cage.
My nausea hasn’t eased the entire time I’ve been here. I’m not sure if it’s due to my pregnancy or the stress of being so close to my father and worrying that something could happen to my child.
I place my hand over my still-flat stomach and close my eyes, trying to dispel the panic that rises whenever I think of losing my child.
The unlocking of the bedroom door does nothing to ease it, and I turn in my chair out on the balcony to see Vincenzo enter my room.
Salvo comes in with him; anytime Vincenzo enters, either Salvo, Tomas, or Zeus comes in with him.
Either he wants to put me at ease, or it’s an order from Tommaso that I’m not to be alone with him.
Vincenzo is a large man—a bit burlier compared to Tommaso’s muscular frame. He’s handsome, but he doesn’t hold a candle to my husband. He smiles as he walks into the room, the heels of his shoes sounding on the marble floor.
Salvo closes the door behind him and nods to me as I stand from the chair. Knowing that Vincenzo doesn’t want to risk our conversation being overheard out on the balcony, I come into the bedroom and close the doors.
“How are you today, Gina?” He motions to the small table with an etched glass top, swirled in blue.
Taking a steadying breath to ease my stress, I sit in the chair Vincenzo pulls out for me. “I’m fine. How are things on your end?”
He sits across from me and folds his hands over his stomach.
I notice his hands are immaculate and smooth, not rough or scarred.
Vincenzo and Tommaso are very different men and leaders, but I know he’s as ruthless as Tommaso.
The man secretly killed his own father to stop a plan to allow human trafficking… a plan my own father is neck-deep in.
Nausea hits me, hard and fast.
“Gina?” he asks, concerned.
I grip the table, swallowing rapidly to keep the bile down. Salvo brings me a glass of water from a table in the corner, and I take a sip.
“Are you okay?” Vincenzo studies me, worried.
I nod, taking another sip.
“You aren’t eating much.” He glances toward the terrace, where my mostly untouched breakfast sits. “Tommaso won’t be happy with either of us about that.”
That gets a small smile out of me. “How is everything going?” I ask again.
“Slow,” he admits. “But we’re making progress.”
They’re trying to discover which other ‘Ndrangheta Don would vote in favor of this plan, along with other matters they haven’t shared with me.
“Your father is demanding to see you.”
“You promised Tommaso he wouldn’t have access to me, Vincenzo.” I’m surprised at how steady and strong my voice is.
“I said your father is demanding to see you, not that I would allow it.” He smiles, and I see the shark underneath. “He now understands that he’s a prisoner here, not a guest. He and Leandro have been relocated to more…suitable quarters in the basement.”
The young girl in me cries at the thought of her Babbo being put in a cell, knowing he won’t be walking out of it. But the man he’s become is not the man I remember and loved as a child.
“Have more of your memories come back?” Vincenzo asks.
“Some. Mostly of going to school at Santa Elisabetta; I think seeing the ocean and countryside is maybe spurring that.” I set the glass down, staring at it. “I’m remembering Rosa more than anything from school.”
How she was the perfect mafia princess. Excelled at what our etiquette teachers hammered into us at the school I never should’ve been able to attend because I’m a nobody. The school I was only able to attend because my father made copious amounts of money selling people.
Bile pushes into my throat with that reminder.
“Word is, Rosa is on the warpath.” Vincenzo cocks his head. “Wants your blood for taking her man.”
My chin lifts. “Tommaso is not her man. He’s mine.”
Do I sound territorial and jealous? Absolutely. But I’m not apologizing.
He chuckles with a smile. “That’s the fire you need, Gina.” Then his smile fades. “Not the wilting flower, thinking of the sins of your father.”
“He wasn’t always like this,” I say softly, wishing for the man he had been when I was younger.
He reaches over and places his hand over mine, which is clenched into a small fist on the table. Salvo shifts in warning, and he pulls his hand away, then stands and adjusts his suit.
“With your father and Leandro now locked up, I can let you out of your room. You could go outside for some walks.”
“I’d like that, thank you.”
“With one of your guard dogs accompanying, of course.” He smirks at Salvo before turning back to me.
I stand as well, not wanting him to be looking down at me. “Thank you, Vincenzo.”
“I want you to be comfortable here as much as your safety allows.”
He turns to go, but my comment stops him. “You wanted me at one point.”
He slowly turns back to me. “I still do, princess.”
I bristle at that term, knowing I referred to Rosa and others like her as princesses, but I also bristle at his confession. Salvo puts his hand on the gun resting on his hip.
Vincenzo smiles. “But you’re Tommaso’s queen. And I’d rather have him as my ally than an enemy on the warpath. You may not know it, but that man is as brutal and unhinged as they come if he decides you’re his enemy.”
He walks out after that, closing the door behind him.
Salvo checks me over, likely trying to determine if I’m going to freak out.
But I’m not freaking out, because deep down, I know that Tommaso is the man Vincenzo said he is.
But he’s also more. The bullet he keeps on him as a reminder that all life has value and that there are ripple effects to taking any life.
Morals guide his decisions even though he’s a crime leader.
“Tommaso wanted me to tell you, he’s close,” Salvo says after determining I’m not going to lose the plot.
“Close as in, he’s nearby…or close to finishing this?”
He shrugs, either not knowing the answer or refusing to give it to me. “I’ll do some recon to make sure it’s actually safe for you to go outside for a walk.”
“Salvo,” I call to him as he reaches the door, and he turns back to me. “Thank you for being here to protect me. I can’t imagine it’s easy being away from your infant son and wife.”
“Gabrielle and my wife, Julia, are protected in my absence. Tommaso has seen to that.” He regards me solemnly. “I’ll follow him anywhere and do whatever he needs me to do. He’s my Don.”
“Technically, Stefano is your Don.”
“Tommaso has the weight of all the men behind him if he wants to challenge his father,” he states gravely.
I ask the one question that worries the hell out of me, “He’ll do that to protect me, won’t he?”
“If he must, yes.”
After confirming my worries, Salvo leaves me alone.
My stomach flutters, and I place my hand on it. I know it’s too soon for me to feel our child move, but it helps ease my worry slightly. I’ll do anything to protect our child, just like I know that Tommaso will do whatever it takes to protect us.
Even if it means going to war with his own father.