52. ANTONIO
Fuck, I love this woman.
Personally, I would have liked to see Nestor suffer, but if anybody deserves to take him out besides me, it's Scarlet. So I let her have my gun, and I nod at the three soldiers as she approaches.
I'm glad I showed her how to use one; her aim is true. Right into his foot. He howls in pain, which is music to my ears for all the shit he put her through.
"We need to go," Vito urges, still carrying my sister, who won't look at me.
"Are you done, passerotta?" I ask, holding my hand out for the gun.
"For now," she nods, and my chest swells with pride.
I don't think any of the men see the slight green tinge to her complexion, or if they do, they probably blame it on her ordeal, but I know her better.
She might have made it seem effortless shooting Nestor, but deep down, she's fighting guilt, even though it was just his foot.
It doesn't matter, though; she's holding her head up high, and her shoulders are straight when she walks up the stairs.
She's a true queen—and a savage in the making.
Once outside, I shake Enrico's hand. "I owe you."
"A helicopter will do," he grins, climbing back into his SUV, waving.
Fuck, I just might have to bite the bullet and send him one.
Just like the first time I met Scarlet, we hear sirens in the distance, but this time, she won't let me carry her. Not until we're in the car. Only then does she climb into my lap, sling her arms around me, and press her face against my neck.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
The car starts rolling.
"What about you?" Vito asks my sister, sitting in the row behind us.
"It's not my fault the assholes were waiting for us. And it's not yours either, Scarlet."
Scarlet lifts her head. "I'm sorry, Gigi. I didn't mean to put you in this position."
"What do you mean? This outing was the most fun I've had in a long time. Ever since my brother exiled me and locked me into his dungeon."
"My house is not a dungeon," I growl, because as usual, Gigi gets under my skin.
She rolls her eyes. "Metaphorically speaking."
"You want to see a dungeon?" I warn. "I can show you a dungeon. And I don't mean it metaphorically."
A small hand touches my cheek and pushes it so I face Scarlet. "It's not her fault."
"We'll talk about it when we get home," I tell her, before turning my head back to my sister, "you too."
The rest of the drive passes in silence.
Now and then, I rub Scarlet's arm to reassure myself she's really there, pressing her against me harder, placing kisses on the top of her head. She doesn’t seem to be able to get enough of me, either.
She snuggles as closely to me as humanly possible.
Her hands have a death grip on my arms, but I don't mind.
When we pass the gate, Vito asks, "Now what?"
Now what, indeed. Carlos wasn't at the warehouse, but we have Nestor, who will most certainly provide valuable intel.
"As far as Carlos is concerned, we'll go back to the original plan," I decide. "Tomorrow, we'll make Nestor sing, in the meantime… I have some visits to make."
"Visits?" Scarlet asks.
"He's going to deliver the news that men died to their wives and mothers personally," Gigi says from the back.
A shudder moves through me. Men died because of me.
"Don't." Antonio strokes my arm. He is the most perceptive man I know. "This isn't on you. Whatever you two were up to, first, the guards should never have allowed you to pass, and second, that is their job. To protect what's mine."
"But they wouldn't have died if we hadn't left, so that is on me," I point out.
"That's the life," Gigi cuts in. "They know it; we know it. It doesn't matter when or where; they're there to protect us, and that's their job."
Scarlet's stiffness tells me she isn't all that convinced, and I move my hand from her arm to her back to massage the stiffness out of it. "Whatever stupidity you two were up to, the death of these men is not on you. It lies squarely on the men who killed them, and on Carlos."
Her eyes are wide, and I see apprehension in them, but her voice is strong: "Shouldn't I go with you?"
Another wave of pride for her fills me. "It's not a pleasant visit."
"No, I didn’t think it would be. But as your wife, shouldn't I be at your side?"
"I would be proud if you were, but I would never ask this of you," I tell her, making sure she understands.
"I want to come," she says determinedly.
The car stops at the entrance, and I open the door to help Scarlet out. Vito does the same for Gigi.
"In my office, in an hour," I tell Gigi sternly.
She throws a worried glance at Vito. "Oh, for Christ’s sake, I'm not going to kill the bastard. Do you really think he keeps secrets from me? Especially ones that involve dating you?"
It takes Gigi only a few seconds to realize what I'm saying. Her eyes grow wide, and her mouth opens and closes until she finally presses out, "You knew?"
"Of course I knew, nobody is keeping secrets from me."
She glares from Vito to me, then slaps him in the face and storms off.
Vito stares after her. "Thanks, boss."
"You deserved it. Now be a man and go after her."
Scarlet lets out a startled gasp, "You knew?"
I roll my eyes. "Passerotta, there is nothing in this house I don't know."
She tilts her head and scrutinizes me before shaking it. "Not everything."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask as I follow her up the stairs to our bedroom.
"Just what I said," she throws over her shoulder. I think I have an idea what she is referring to. Ah, passerotta, you have no idea what I know and don't know , I think smugly.
I slam the door shut behind her. I'm glad she and Gigi are unharmed, and I'm more than happy to have them back, but we still need to lay down some ground rules. One of them is obedience.
At the slam of the door, she turns, but all smugness vanishes from her face when she sees my schooled features. It's not easy being mad at her, but it’s necessary. She needs to understand that certain rules are in place to keep her safe.
"I know, okay?" She tries to ward me off.
"Do you now?" I walk towards her, and she slowly backs up until her back hits the wall.
"I do. Trust me. I will never do anything so foolish again."
I brace my hands on both sides of her head and lean down to look at her.
Her sapphire eyes shine back at me, unafraid, but she does look contrite.
All I want is to kiss and fuck my wife, but it’s important to make her understand that this life brings a lot of rules with it.
I fucked up by not having made her realize that before.
"So, little wife, do you want to tell me now what was so important that you and Gigi had to leave, after I explicitly made clear that neither she nor you were to leave the house?
" Anger sparks in my gut. I'm not sure what I'll do if she tells me something stupid, like they needed to get a mani-pedi.
She whispers something inaudible.
"What was that?"
"A pregnancy test," she speaks up louder, her eyes flaring in defiance.
"A pregnancy test?" I curse as my palm hits the wall next to her head. Fury wages war inside my gut once again.
She doesn't flinch. Her eyes are fully focused on me, filled with love and…
trust. Trust that I won't hurt her. Which I never would, but fuck!
She could have been killed. My sister could have been killed.
My child could have been killed. And all because I kept toying with her instead of having an open conversation.
Fuck! This is as much my fault as it is hers.
"I didn't want to tell you until I was sure," she adds quietly. "Please don't be mad at me."
I lean my forehead against hers. "I knew all along, Scarlet."
"You… what?" She looks at me incredulously.
"Like I told Gigi, nothing happens in this house without me knowing about it. I knew you were pregnant before you did," I declare smugly.
"I doubt that," she responds with some stubbornness. Then she pulls back. "You were playing with me, like you were with Gigi and Vito," she accuses.
"You didn't tell me either," I throw in her face.
"Yes, but I had a reason," she huffs. "I didn’t want to get your hopes up and… wait, how the hell did you know?"
I hold up a finger. "You, throwing up all the time," I add another, "being tired," and then a third, "plus, I had Doc Brown check when he drew your blood."
"Oh! Of all the neanderthal, controlling, dictator stunts you've pulled, this one takes the cake." She shakes her head.
Did she just call me a neanderthal? I'm not sure if I should be flattered or not. But she looks angry enough to stop me from throwing her over my shoulder caveman style. I suppose we'll have to work this out before I can do that.
"No more secrets between us, okay? Good or bad."
Her foot taps against the ground, and I give her a moment to decide if she's still mad at me. But then she nods, "I'm sorry, Antonio, I didn't fully comprehend the consequences of my actions. I won't do something this stupid again. I swear."
God help me, but I believe her. I'm not really furious at her anymore, either. She didn’t fully know what she signed up for.
She should have known after having been kidnapped before, but I'm willing to forget that.
What I'm not willing to forget is my fucking sister.
The woman who should have known better. Her words, This outing was the most fun I've had in a long time, come back to me.
When she said that phrase, it amused me.
I felt she was trying to reassure my wife, but now I see the entire event in a different light.
Gigi should have known better. She risked her life, my wife's life, and that of my unborn child. Rage surges through me.
"Don't," Scarlet says, putting the palm of her hand on my cheek, repeating my earlier words back to me.
"Don't what?"
"Don't be angry with her. This is all on me. I wanted to make sure I was pregnant before I told you. I wanted… it to be a surprise."
I laugh, hard and bitter. "Well, you sure managed that. It's a surprise, alright."
Now tears form in her eyes. Fuck! "Passerotta, I'm sorry, I?—"
"I just wanted to pee on a fucking stick," she hiccups, completely breaking through the wall of my anger.
She rises to her tiptoes and gently kisses me. "It's been a very emotional day, and it's not over yet, Antonio."
She's right. I lean my head down until our foreheads meet. "I love you so fucking much. I've been through hell thinking I'd lose you."
"But you didn't. You saved me. Again."
"And I always will," I promise. "Now, pregnant, eh?"
Her smile is slightly wistful, before it lights up her entire face. "I guess so, yeah!"
I still sense some hesitation. "What?"
"It's really stupid," she mumbles.
So I repeat, "What?"
"I really, really wanted to pee on a stick."
I laugh. There's nothing I wouldn't do for this woman. "I'll send one of the men out to fetch some."
She looks at me, aghast. I love the way her eyes grow wide and her mouth opens, but no words seem to come to her yet. "What?"
Horror crosses her features. "No! You can't…
no… don't…" her face turns a few shades of pink, and I can't resist any longer but to press my lips to hers.
Her arms fling around me as she responds as only she does to me.
I push all thoughts of how I nearly lost her away from me, driven by the need to be inside her—for us to be one.