Chapter 23 | Bianca
Bianca
Considering the whirlwind of the past few weeks, I would’ve thought that I’d feel more discombobulated in my new life.
Although I missed Alexis terribly, everything else had settled into a relatively stable pattern.
I spent the days diving into my online classes, and also loved cooking dinner in Michael’s large kitchen.
Michael did his best to have dinner with me most nights, although sometimes business pulled him to the abandoned warehouses in Brooklyn for meetings, or to the ports to scout for information. I was terribly worried for his safety, but trusted that he was savvy enough to protect himself.
Each night, he would take me to bed and make love to me in ways I’d never imagined. Sometimes he was tender; others he was dominant and brash. Lord help me, but I loved both, and together we communicated through our lovemaking things that were difficult for me to verbalize.
Sometimes, when he looked deep in my eyes as he claimed me, I swore I saw a deep love blazing in his dark irises. And then, I would remind myself that fairy tales didn’t exist for forty-two-year-old mafia widows who married their husband’s greatest enemy...did they?
There were so many times when I held him close, stroking his thick hair and had the insane urge to tell him that I was falling in love with him.
But I always held back, worried I would create an uncomfortable situation where he was forced to say it back.
After all, we’d married for very specific reasons: protection, necessity, and to form a public alliance.
Would I create an unneeded mess if I brought feelings into it?
Sadly, I figured that was a possibility, so I remained silent, trying to process the confusing feelings.
Three weeks after the DeLorenzo wedding, I was working on my laptop in the office as Leticia and Carmen chatted outside.
“We’ll make a cake for Mr. Caruso,” Leticia said, her voice drifting into the office. “He’ll be forty-eight on Saturday.”
My head lifted and I grinned. It was Michael’s birthday and he hadn’t told me? Damnit. I wanted to do something special for him. He’d opened his home to me and been extremely generous. The least I could do was celebrate him on his birthday.
Rising, I strode through the house to find Burns.
“Burns?” I called, finding him in the greenhouse watering the plants. “Did you know that Saturday is Michael’s birthday?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” I asked, playfully exasperated.
“I’m sorry, Bianca. I thought Michael would’ve told you.”
“He’s got a lot on his plate so I guess it slipped his mind.” I rubbed my chin. “I want to get him something special. What should I do? You’ve known him for a long time.”
Burns’s features drew together as he contemplated. “There’s a distillery at the Navy Yard. It’s been in business for over a hundred years and Michael likes their whiskey.”
“Perfect,” I said with a nod. “Can one of the men take me there?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said hesitantly. “Michael has forbidden you to leave the premises unless he’s with you.”
“I know,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “And I get that—I really do. But what if two men go with me, and one of them can drive. It can’t be far from here.”
“It’s about a ten-minute drive.”
“Great! The two young bodyguards who guard the front...Chris and...Joaquin,” I said, snapping my fingers. “They can come with me. They’re both huge with guns on their hips. One of them can drive me, right?”
“I just...” Burns shook his head. “It’s not a good idea, Bianca. Things are quite dangerous right now.”
“I know, but I’ll be heavily guarded and I want to do this on my own.
” Lifting my chin, I spoke assertively. “Let Chris and Joaquin know I’ll be ready in ten minutes.
Chris can drive and Joaquin can accompany me inside the distillery.
I’ll make it a quick trip, but I want to pick out the whiskey myself. ”
“Okay,” Burns said, worry evident across his features.
“And don’t tell Michael,” I said, lifting a finger. “I’ll have two bodyguards with me and be gone for half an hour. This isn’t a huge deal, Burns.”
He inhaled deeply. “I’m still worried, Bianca. Things aren’t always safe in our world. You should know that better than anyone.”
He was right, but I also had been cooped up in the house for weeks and was a grown damn woman. I deserved to buy my husband a birthday present that was meaningful. Firm in my decision, I headed upstairs to get dressed.
When I returned to the foyer, Chris and Joaquin were waiting.
“Ma’am, we’ve heard that we’re to accompany you to the distillery at the Navy Yard.”
“Yes,” I said with a nod.
“Has Mr. Caruso given approval for this?” Chris asked.
“My husband would like me protected, and I’m assigning you both to help me with that.
This will be a quick trip, so I see no danger.
Chris, if you could drive, and Joaquin, you can accompany me inside the distillery.
It’s very important to me that I do this on my own.
If you won’t help me, I’ll find someone else who will. ”
They shared a look and Chris reached for his phone.
“If you’re going to call Michael, I believe he’s in a meeting at the docks for the next few hours and most likely won’t answer. You can wait for his approval, but I’m leaving now.”
I reached for the keys to Michael’s sports car and opened the front door. I trailed to the car in the driveway and clicked the fob, smiling when Chris appeared and took the keys from my hand.
“I’ll drive. Please sit in the back with Joaquin. In and out of the distillery, okay?”
“Absolutely,” I said, sliding into the back seat.
Joaquin slid in beside me, and we were on our way.
We drove down some residential streets, and I gazed at the homes, noticing that some people had already put up their Christmas decorations. Should I decorate Michael’s home? That would be a nice touch—
Suddenly, my window shattered as a car crashed into our sports car.
I gasped as the car door slammed into my body, knocking the air from my lungs as I lurched to the side.
Our car spun to a stop, and unimaginable pain coursed through my frame.
Patting my side, I felt something impaled there, and realized it was a shard of glass.
Joaquin coughed beside me, and Chris sat slumped over the airbag in the driver’s seat. Someone yanked my door open, the mangled metal creaking ominously, and I was dragged from the car.
“We knew you’d crack eventually,” a deep voice said in my ear. “We just needed to wait for you to emerge. You’re too stubborn to stay locked inside his mansion forever.”
I forced my eyes open to see Simon’s face above me. “Fucking...bastard!” I yelled weakly.
He scowled, but continued to carry me to a nearby car that was waiting.
“Stop, or I’ll shoot you in the back of your fucking head!” Joaquin screamed, and I exhaled with relief.
Simon turned, placing me on the ground and quickly yanking his gun from his belt. He and Joaquin stood firm, both guns aimed, as I coughed and sputtered on the ground. I was severely injured and could feel blood pulsing in my thigh, my arm, and my side, where the damage was worst.
“Let her go,” Joaquin said through clenched teeth.
I saw Simon’s finger move on the trigger, the action seeming to happen in slow motion, as he released the bullet. Joaquin’s gun fired immediately after, the sounds ominous to my ringing ears. Both men dropped to the ground, and I wailed in pain as I crawled on the asphalt toward Joaquin.
“Are you...” Blood trickled from his arm, and he was unconscious, causing me to wonder if he’d hit his head when he fell to the ground.
Fueled by adrenaline, I picked up his gun and turned to face Simon. Holding the weapon high, I placed my finger on the trigger.
Simon approached me, gun aimed between my eyes as I lay on the ground. A maniacal grin curved his lips as blood trickled from the bullet wound in his shoulder.
“We both know you won’t shoot me, Bianca,” he said, edging closer as we both aimed at each other. “We just need you for leverage so you’ll give us Alexis’s location. We won’t hurt you.”
Pain surged through every cell in my body, and I knew I only had moments before the adrenaline depleted and I lost consciousness. Once that happened, I would be under Simon and John’s control. And God help me, but I would never let that happen.
Clenching my teeth against the pain, I aimed for Simon’s heart and did my best to remember the shooting lessons my grandfather had given me when I was a teenager. Tightening my finger on the trigger, I pulled.
Simon gasped, and I realized I shot him in the neck instead of the heart. Blood spurted form his neck as he clutched it before falling to the ground. I knew there was no way he would survive the blow. I’d killed one of Victor’s top remaining capos.
My head fell back on the pavement and I clutched my side, weakly touching the glass shards impaled there.
“Michael...” I whispered, battling to retain consciousness. “I’m so sorry... God, I’m so fucking sorry...”
And then, under the cold November sky, everything went dark.