14. Saverio
14
SAVERIO
I fucking hate St. Louis. They have good food and entertainment, but the people ruined the experience for me.
I was happy to help the Family out. They toured a bunch of homes on Thursday with one of the best realtors in the area while I set up a meeting with Razor, the leader of the gang that blew up their house. While they benefitted from the Castiglione family name speeding along purchase proceedings on Friday, Raffaele flew in, and we had a sitdown with the Sabors. Everything went well for our friends, but not so much for us. Raff and I didn’t know we were walking into a trap until it was too late.
The Sabors are the worst kind of gang, notorious for the ruthless chaos they inflict upon the city. They don’t have any direction, strategy, or even basic intelligence. Instead of seeing reason, they saw red. When we showed up, they jumped us.
I gingerly touch my ribs, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots through my body. The dull throb in my knuckles reminds me of the punches I threw and the ones I took. A jagged gash on my arm trickles blood down to my fingertips, soaking the sleeve of my shirt. It’s going to need stitches. But I’m alive, and that’s all that matters after the fight with those punks.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Raffaele glares at me, his gaze filled with unfettered anger and resentment. “You can go home, but I gotta stay here?”
I press my fingertips to my temples, feeling a steady pulse of pain. My headache could be because of my bodyguard’s whining or because someone punched me in the head yesterday. “You have a concussion, Raff.”
“They monitored me overnight. I’m fine,” he stubbornly replies.
He’s a big baby. “You also have contusions on your kidney. What if we spend five hours driving home tomorrow, and you die halfway to Manhattan?”
Raffaele huffs his frustration. “Good. I hope you have to deal with my dead body.” He took the brunt of yesterday’s beating. We were outnumbered 4-to-1, and five guys jumped on him immediately because he was a bigger force to be reckoned with. But we got them in the end. Our bodies might be battered, but our spirits are unbroken.
“You’ll be home in two days. And you’ll get a private flight into Manhattan. We won’t have to sit in a car together for five hours and pretend we have shit to talk about.”
“What?” Raffaele snaps back, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “You don’t want to discuss House of the Dragons?”
God, I hate him. He’s the biggest pain in my ass, next to the Terlizzi family. “Shut the fuck up, Raff. You have to stay. End of story.” The door swings open in the middle of my rant. “As much as I’d rather see you kick the bucket so I can find someone less annoying to be my bodyguard, I should probably keep you alive for your family’s sake.”
“Excuse me,” a nurse interrupts with a shocked expression. She takes a hesitant step forward, unsure if she should step between us. “What’s going on in here?”
Raffaele flashes her a charming, dimpled smile. “Don’t worry, gorgeous,” he says with a wink. “He’s my brother. We always talk to each other like this.” His voice is deep and velvety, with just a hint of an accent that adds to his alluring appeal.
“If I were related to you, I’d shoot myself.”
His lips curl into a tight smirk as he pivots his focus back to me. “If you were related to me, I’d shoot you first.”
The nurse shifts uneasily as she ventures further into the room, her footsteps echoing quietly against the sterile white floor. Her gaze lingers on us momentarily before she speaks, her tone hesitant. “So you two are not related?” She sums up the conversation, and we both laugh and vehemently deny any blood relation. “Okay, then you ,” she turns to me with a pointed finger, “can wait outside. I need to do a full exam on Mr. De Santis.”
She doesn’t need to explain herself to me. I’m happy to leave the room. Hell, I’m ready to leave the state. But it’s 6:12, and I wouldn’t get home until almost midnight; I don’t have the energy for a long drive right now. “Good luck, buddy,” I salute Raffaele. “Hope she has to put a catheter in.”
“I hope you contract salmonella and die,” he shoots back as I’m leaving the room.
Raffaele is one of my closest confidants, a brother in all but blood. We argue and bicker like siblings, but we still love each other at the end of the day. Or something like that. It’s a unique relationship that I’d miss if he were gone.
As I wait outside Raffaele’s room, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. The smooth surface is cool against my fingertips as I unlock it and start typing out a few texts. My half-siblings are in the middle of another heated argument, this time about Bryce getting into a car accident earlier today. The other driver is trying to blame him for the collision. With a sigh, I let them know I’ll look into the situation on Monday and see what I can do to resolve the matter.
Kristopher asks me in a one-on-one text if I’ve reviewed the ownership contract he sent on Wednesday. My response is quick but honest—I’ve only glanced at it and forwarded it to my lawyer, but with my recent business trip, I haven’t had the time to review it thoroughly. The rest of the drivel in my messages is unimportant and can wait until tomorrow.
I reread a few of the text messages Lucia and I exchanged just a couple of days ago, missing our banter. For kicks, I check her location and see that she’s at Margarita Jalisco’s, probably unwinding with her fellow teaching colleagues after a hectic first week back at school. A smile tugs at my lips as I send her a message, letting her know I’m thinking about her.
Saverio
Call an Uber if you have too many margaritas.
Lucia
My date can drive me home.
I almost drop my phone. “The fuck you mean you’re on a date,” I blurt out, not realizing I’m yelling until someone behind me jumps up from their desk with a scowl. Realizing my outburst, I force out an insincere apology before quickly excusing myself to the nearest bathroom.
Inside the confined space, I push the call button so hard that I nearly crack the screen on my phone. I wait impatiently for fourteen seconds before she finally answers. The sound of her voice is like a lifeline.
“It’s important,” Lucia giggles as she answers the phone. “I’ll be back!”
“No, the fuck you won’t. Go home, Lucia.”
Her laughter dries up. “Oh my god, you’re so dramatic.”
I can tell from the slur in her voice that she’s been drinking. “And you’re wasted. Go home, Lucia. I’m not kidding.”
Wherever she goes, it’s much quieter than before. The music dulls considerably, and the raucous voices are drowned out with silence. “Saverio, I have to stay. Brookie Cookie needs me.”
“Who the fuck is Brookie Cookie?”
“My bestie,” she replies. “She had a date with her soulmate tonight, but his friend is in town. So she needed me to date him.”
Brookie Cookie is going straight to the top of my shit list, right after Lucia herself. “I don’t care what Brookie needs. I don’t want another man touching what’s mine. You know what happened to the last guy, Lucia.”
She snorts into the receiver. “The one you threatened,” she accuses. “This guy isn’t like that. I think he’s a fuck boy, actually.”
I don’t want to hear about any man fucking anything when it comes to Lucia. I’ll tear him apart if he tries it. “Lucia, if you fuck that man,” I begin, but she cuts me off before I can finish my sentence.
“I’m not going to have sex with a stranger , Saverio.” Her sentences come with dramatic elongation, emphasizing her disbelief and irritation. I can almost see her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line.
“You fucked me, and I was basically a stranger.”
Lucia dismisses my concern with a scoff. “Fuck off. You were happy about it then.”
I’ll never forget that night. It is burned into my brain with the kind of searing recollection of a traumatic event. “Just go home, Lucia. I don’t want some drunk fuck boy taking advantage of you later.”
“You can’t make me go home,” she replies stubbornly.
My fist tightens at my side as I send a silent plea to God, begging for the strength to refrain from killing someone tonight. “Lucia, don’t fucking test me. You know I’ll come there and?—”
“You’re in St. Louis.” Lucia shifts the phone from one ear to the other, the scratching coming over the speaker as she changes hands. “It’ll take you like five hours to get here. By then, I’ll be at home in bed. Give it up, Saverio. It’s one date for a friend.”
Neither of us cares about the irritation in the other’s voice. No matter; I’m not the one playing with fire. “When I get there, you’re going to wish you hadn’t said that.”
“What?” Lucia taunts. “Are you going to fuck me into submission again?”
“When I’m through with you, you’re going to wish that’s all I’d done.” I hang up, but there’s no satisfying click. I storm out of the bathroom and straight to Raffaele’s room.
The nurse is still examining him when I enter, and she yells at me to get out.
“I’m going to Topeka,” I tell Raffaele with a glare.
“Tonight?” He looks as surprised as I feel. I reply with a nod. “God help Lucia then,” Raffaele shakes his head. “Hope she’s ready to face up to whatever she did to piss you off.”
She’s not, but she doesn’t have a choice. I’m tired of her defiance.