Chapter 47
New Wild West
Leo’s voice mingles, along with Chiari’s and Owen’s in the background.
I sit across the couch, legs propped up as I switch between reading various books on the basics of business.
Figured with the whole inheriting a fortune and businesses, I should learn something.
My days of being a simple barista were over.
There’s a grunt, and I look over my shoulder as Jameson leans back in his seat across from Leo’s desk. Chiari’s tapping away on a laptop, and so is Owen.
It’s been like this the past week. Me sitting on the couch, occupying myself in some shape or form while Leo works.
A few times I’ve left to go see friends within the hotel, but no more than an hour.
Leo’s slowly moving back into his work routine, but I could tell when he becomes overwhelmed, eyes almost glazing over.
He becomes quieter and rigid in his seat.
When it seems to not let up, that’s when I say I’m tired and we head home.
Funny how no one wants to disappoint the woman in the wheelchair.
I snort to myself flipping another page. Yup, I have my cards and not afraid to use them if it meant protecting Leo’s sanity. And mine.
I try to concentrate on my book. Boredom certainly nags at me, almost every day.
I have physical therapy almost every other day, but most of my time was spent reading or watching movies.
Wasn’t exactly well enough to go gallivanting to work on bikes, clean rooms, or bug Grant when bathing alone exhausts me.
An idea sparks suddenly, wondering how fast I could race down the halls in the wheelchair. Definitely faster than the rolling chairs. Although, I’m certain I’d give the hotel staff and Leo a heart attack if I did.
I sigh softly to myself, putting the book down and move my legs a little.
Chiari suddenly walks by, giving me a smile before leaving the office. Not far behind is Jameson, he only gives a nod before disappearing. Leo then strides over, pushing my books aside to sit on the coffee table next to me.
He glances at the books. “Bored?”
I shrug, giving him a half smile. “Your meetings aren’t exactly entertaining.”
“Won’t argue that,” he murmurs, brows pinching together as he glances at my wheel chair. “Go to the apartment or visit whoever’s working. I have a handful of meetings and work to get through but will be done in time for dinner.”
I raise my brows. That’s four to five hours away.
“I’m not that paranoid or dependent on you being near, I swear,” he murmurs.
I take his hand, squeezing it. “It’s fine, Leo. I haven’t read this much since college, and my professors would be ecstatic that I’m finally reading about business.” He smirks. “I can stay.”
His jaw tightens, and then looks over at where Owen works. Leo brings his gaze down, and then exhales roughly. “I need to relearn how to do this again. If I need you, then I’ll call.”
The emotions war over his face, lines of uncertainty merging with determination. I squeeze his hand again, rubbing my thumb over his skin. Wonder if this is how Leanne felt the first time I went to work, scared, but knew I needed to take the next step.
“Ok, but if you need anything, mister,” I warn lightly, pointing at him. “You call. I’ll zip my way back up here.”
He leans in, kissing my cheek briefly and stands. I sit up more as he brings my wheelchair closer and I maneuver myself onto the seat. “Maybe I can see which halls I can go down the fastest.”
Leo pauses, amusement finally flickering over his gaze. He leans down again, kissing me on the lips before pressing his forehead against mine. “Dear Watson, do not potentially cause yourself more harm. Otherwise, I will become insufferable.”
I think of giving a retort, but hold back seeing distress in his eyes, I hold off on it. Not the time.
“I shall remain in the speed limits, mister Americano. Promise.” I cross my heart with emphasis.
“Thank you.” He strokes my hair back, standing fully as I start rolling away. “Have Isaac and another Crew member with you.”
I give a mock salute as I get to the door, remembering how much I don’t like doors. Especially large heavy ones. I raise my hands, gesturing to the barrier I’ve struggled with the most being in a wheelchair. Apart from stairs. And small bathrooms. And tall counter tops.
“Given I’ve reached my nemesis, I may need them,” I say.
Owen chuckles, and I scowl over my shoulder. He smirks as Leo opens the door, and I give a wave, heading for the elevator. About to contact Isaac for bodyguard duty, the elevator doors open and there he is.
“Did you sense a shift in the force?” I ask.
“Owen.” He holds his phone up and gestures me into the space. “How long has he let you out today?”
I give him a look, and he gives me one back that we both know he’s right. I shake my head, rolling onto the elevator, and spin around. “Rest of the day.”
“Really?”
“He’s trying. So, fingers crossed no panic attacks for either of us.”
“Very well, where we off to?”
“Basement. Just past lunch, Mikey or Logan may be here. Could find Bobby, too.”
The doors close and we start to descend. He taps onto his phone, and says, “Ringer will meet us down there.”
I nod, pursing my lips. Michael won’t be on bodyguard duty for a bit. He’s not quite well enough to fully be in action as it were. Until then, it’s been mostly Isaac, Ringer, Chesty, and Animal doing their normal rotations. Except, it’s always two or more of them, even in the hotel.
“The doubled security is just paranoia, right?” I ask him. “He hasn’t really talked much about…stuff.”
“Things have been calm, but do remember that your life has been threatened, multiple times, including here,” he answers, shifting on his feet. He adds in a lower tone, “And that one of those people work here.”
Right, a little detail I seem to always forget.
A couple weeks ago, Leo and Jameson finally told me it was Matteo’s doing that Gabriel found us.
Apparently, he’d overheard a quiet conversation while on the plane to the U.S.
about us being in London. He then stole a phone from the bodyguards he was with, using it to contact Gabriel.
Enigma was able to track it to that phone, and it was thought security had told Gabriel, but they didn’t even know we were in London.
One afternoon “conversing” with Jameson, and Matteo admitted what he’d done.
It was easy to assume that not only Leo, but the rest of the Crew blamed Matteo for what happened to us.
Except, they never confirmed he was still in the hotel.
“Matteo’s still here?” I ask.
Isaac lifts a brow. “You didn’t know?”
“Not a subject I bring up, and although not said otherwise, I’d figured after the whole stealing a bodyguard’s phone, would’ve put him in the warehouse and no one told me.”
“Personally, I think that’s where he should be,” he mutters.
Great. Yeah, the kid fucked up, but he was just shipped to who knows where by his other brother who let another mafia boss waterboard him with vodka. And then threatened to kill him. I’d be vindictive, too. Fuck, I have been.
“Where does he stay?” I ask.
“I’m not sure—”
“You better tell me before I roll over your foot a hundred times,” I warn, giving a light glare.
He sighs as the elevator doors open. “6th floor. Standard room that’s been stripped down to nothing and without many amenities.”
“Is he working with Bobby like I suggested?” I haven’t been able to see him, yet. Now I understood why one reason I may not have. Damn my frequent headaches and little memory lapses, otherwise I’d have noticed sooner.
We move out of the elevator and into the hallway.
“Most days he’s scheduled with him. Days he’s not, he’s difficult to work with and complains like a child.”
“He grew up in a wealthy, mafia family, not surprising there,” I murmur. The doors close as I stop, and glance down the hall where the maid’s quarters are. “I know it was my idea for him to work here, but…how is he still here?”
“Because it was your request. And unless you say so, Leo will comply.” I rub my head a little, small migraine forming.
“Although, I shall admit him working here does make it easier to monitor him, frustrating as he is.” I look at him with a small frown.
“He’s a liability, and myself and the rest of the Crew would rather have him gone. ”
I fold my arms over my chest. “He’s just a kid, Isaac.”
“He’s almost 23, not really a kid anymore.”
“Yeah, one who had to grow up before he was ten,” I argue.
“At 22, I just graduated college and was making all kinds of mistakes. Recently for him, he was dragged into a mafia family war. Interrogated by one brother, lied to by the other, practically sold to another mafioso, and then shipped back to a country he hasn’t been in for years. I’d be sour, too.”
“That’s no excuse for his actions which almost killed you and Leo,” Isaac counters, folding his arms over his chest next. “He was selfish, and should’ve trusted Leo—”
“Leo hurt him,” I interject. “Tortured him basically. Whatever reasonings we give and why, anger this or that, expecting him to be okay is ridiculous. Not to mention, Matteo was lied to for years by Renato, Giovanna, and Gabriel. I wouldn’t know who to trust anymore either.”
“Miss Autumn—”
“I’m not excusing his behavior, but he should be given an actual chance to make his own decisions that won’t manipulate him into situations to just survive.”
“What do you suggest then? Send him to another state?”
“I think sending him away may be the worst thing. He’ll feel like a burden or a piece of property.”
“He is and has been a burden.”
I hang my head back. Yup, hello, headache.