34. Saverio
34
SAVERIO
T he fluorescent lights of the ER buzz overhead as I sit next to Lucia. The cold, sterile environment does nothing to ease the tension in my chest. We’ve been waiting for half an hour, and every minute that passes feels like another weight added to the tight knot of frustration and worry coiled inside me.
Lucia sits in the chair next to mine, cradling her injured hand in a blood-soaked kitchen towel that will need to be thrown away when we’re finished here. She’s quiet, too quiet, and I know her mind is spinning with everything I’ve told her. The unsettling truth about Kristopher and the possibility that he was the one stalking her all those years ago is a lot to take in. I hate that I had to be the one to drop it all on her.
A nurse finally calls Lucia’s name, and she stands up, offering me a tight, strained smile. “I’ll be fine,” she says. “You can stay out here.”
I reluctantly agree. I want to be back there with her to make sure she’s okay, but I sense that she needs some time to think about everything. Lucia gives me a small nod before following the nurse through the doors.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I stand up and head outside. The night air is cool against my skin, a sharp contrast to the sterile, suffocating atmosphere inside the hospital. I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find the number I’m looking for. I dread hitting the ‘call’ button, but I’m at the end of my rope.
Luciano answers on the second ring, and the fury in his voice is unmistakable. “What the hell do you want, Castiglione?”
I have to force myself to stay calm. Luciano has been through hell and back. I heard about what happened a few months ago with the Lucatellos. They caught him in an alley late at night, beat the shit out of him, broke his hand, and branded him with their family crest. I know he’s upset with me because he thinks it’s my fault—that if I hadn’t approved the marriage between Rocco Castiglione and Christine Lucatello, none of it would have happened. But the Lucatellos got what they deserved in the end; the Terlizzis made sure of it. Giovanni and Marco have been drinking through straws for months with no end in sight.
“I don’t have time for this petty bullshit between us, Luciano,” I snap, keeping my voice low and controlled. “It’s about Lucia.”
There’s a brief pause on the other end, and all I hear is the sound of Luciano’s heavy breathing filling the tense silence. I can almost picture him gripping the phone, knuckles white with barely contained rage. “What happened to Lucia?” he finally growls, his voice low and dangerous. “Did you hurt her?” The accusation in his tone is unmistakable.
I take a deep breath and counsel myself to remain calm before responding. “Not me, no. But one of my half-brothers, Kristopher, might have. I had my guy run a background check on him after an incident at Tate’s. It turns out Kris has some skeletons in his closet that even I didn’t know about. One of them being that he was in Topeka the year Lucia was being stalked.”
Luciano erupts with a blistering torrent of profanity, a multilingual barrage that seamlessly blends English obscenities with colorful Italian invectives. I raise my voice and press on. There’s more to this sordid tale, and he needs the whole picture before we can chart our next move. “I told Lucia about everything tonight, and she’s pretty shaken up. We’re at the ER because she accidentally cut herself. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have told her while she had a knife in her hands.”
“Of course,” Luciano spits, his voice laced with venom. “Of fucking course , it’s your stupid family that’s responsible for this. The Terlizzis never find trouble on their own. It’s always because a fucking Castiglione started it.”
I grit my teeth, knowing he’s not entirely wrong but not entirely right, either. “I’m not going to deny that my family’s involvement in certain aspects of the Terlizzi day-to-day operations has complicated things, but this isn’t about placing blame. Lucia needs us right now. She needs her family. She’s not safe until we deal with Kristopher.”
Another string of Italian curses comes over the line, followed by a tense silence. When Luciano speaks again, his voice is low and simmering with rage. “What do you want me to do?”
I know how much it pains him to consider working with me, which makes my next request even harder. “I need you to persuade your brothers to help me. I have a plan to get Kristopher to talk, but I need backup from people I can trust. And while I wouldn’t ordinarily trust a Terlizzi,” I pause, “this has to be done with Lucia’s best interests in mind. Which means I need you and your brothers. Dante and Salvatore, for sure. Niccolo, if he’s involved with this side of the family now. I heard what he did to his wife’s uncles,” I trail off.
Luciano remains silent for a few moments, taking in the request. “Niccolo’s not necessarily involved with the Family, but for Lucia, he’ll come. If anything happens to my sister because of your family, Castiglione, I swear to fucking God, I’ll?—”
“Nothing’s going to happen to her,” I cut him off, my voice hard. “Not as long as I’m breathing.”
“I’ll get back to you soon,” Luciano says, his voice cold and distant. “But don’t think for a second this means I trust you. I’m doing this for Lucia. That’s it.”
“I understand,” I reply before ending the call.
I stand there for a moment with the phone still in my hand, my knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. Luciano’s right to be angry—hell, I’d be furious if I were in his position—but right now, I don’t have the luxury of letting it get to me. I take a deep breath, forcing my racing thoughts to slow. I need to stay focused, sharp, and ready for whatever comes next. Lucia’s safety depends on it, and I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to her on my watch.
I turn back toward the hospital, my mind racing to formulate a plan. Kristopher will tell us the truth one way or another—I’ll make damn sure of that—and when he does, he’ll be punished for it accordingly. There’s no room for mercy when it comes to Lucia’s safety; it’s of utmost importance to me, a non-negotiable priority that I won’t compromise on for anyone or anything. And if Kristopher was an instrument in the removal of her safety, if his actions put her in harm’s way, then God help him. He’ll pay with his life, and I’ll be the one to collect that debt, no matter the personal cost.