Chapter 20
Enzo
My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since the attack started.
Sitting beside Rosie, where she’s lying on a bed in the private jet, I’m unable to tear my eyes away from her face.
Fuck, she’s lost so much weight.
I hate the dark circles under her eyes and how pale she is.
Dr. Milazzo, who we brought along in case any of us needed medical care after the attack, has Rosie hooked up to an IV. He said he’ll do a complete check on her once we’re home, which will be soon.
I hear movement behind me, but I keep staring at Rosie.
“Is she still asleep?” Adriano asks.
“Yeah.”
“How are you holding up?”
“Fine.”
He squeezes my shoulder before leaving the cabin to return to his seat up front.
For the hundredth time since I got us out of the fucking place of horrors, my eyes scan over Rosie.
I hate the plain jeans and dirty shirt she has on. I’ve wiped her arms, hands, and feet clean, but wish I could get her in a shower and into comfortable clothes.
Soon.
Once again, I brush my palm over the side of her face, and leaning forward, I kiss her forehead.
And once a-fucking-gain, she smells wrong.
She’s supposed to smell like vanilla and caramel.
I need to get the bodywash she loves.
And clothes.
And all the fucking candy her heart desires.
Just as I pull back, Rosie makes a whimpering sound while turning onto her side.
I brace my forearm near her face as I lean down again, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’m here. You’re safe, bella mia. We’re all here.”
Another tidal wave of emotion moves through my chest.
The corner of her mouth quivers, and I kiss it.
Is she having a nightmare? Should I wake her?
“Enzo,” she mumbles before her breathing speeds up drastically, then she lets out a soft, hopeless-sounding sob.
I rub my other hand up and down her back. “Wake up, Rosie.”
It takes several seconds before her lashes lift, but she looks out of it for a little longer before her red-rimmed eyes widen on me.
Christ, I’ve never seen her eyes so bloodshot before.
Giving her a tender smile, I murmur, “Hey, bella mia.” I brush my fingertips over her face. “Keep your eyes closed.”
She shakes her head and grips hold of my elbow. When she tries to pull herself up, I lean even closer, practically lying down on her. I pepper the side of her face with kisses.
“You’re here,” she gasps. “You’re really here!”
“I’m here.”
“Enzo.” My name shudders over her lips as she breaks down.
I pull a little back and gently wipe her tears away as they fall.
Rosie’s always the one who’s upbeat and teasing the fuck out of people, and seeing her cry is like having someone take a sledgehammer to my heart.
“We’re almost home,” I tell her, thinking the news will help make her feel better. “Your parents are going to love on you like crazy, so brace yourself for a ton of hugs and kisses.”
A smile breaks through her tears. “You won’t hear me complain.” Her eyes lock on mine, then a heartbreaking sob bursts from her, and she shakes her head.
Seeing the torment in her gaze has me pushing my arms beneath her. I hold her as tight as I can. “I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t find you sooner. You just vanished.”
Her voice is hoarse as she asks, “You didn’t think I blew myself up with the fortress?”
“No. I could still feel you. Your Dad and I searched everywhere. When I got the signals from you, fuck, it was one of the happiest days of my life.”
Rosie’s gaze flits over my face before locking on my eyes. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
Christ. I have her back.
I press my forehead to hers. “You have no idea how thankful I am to have you back. You’re going to have to deal with everyone watching you twenty-four-seven. I, for one, will be glued to your side every second of the day.”
A tiny smile tugs at her mouth. “That sounds exhausting.”
“For you or me?”
“For everyone else.” Her eyes drift over my face, and the faint smile dies. Her gaze locks on my busted lip. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.” I brush my thumb over her cheek before she can start stressing about me. “Don’t worry about me at all. Not even a little.”
“But your mouth…”
“The fucker got lucky.” I lean closer, keeping my voice gentle. “Just focus on yourself, Rosie. You’re all that matters.”
Her smile fades, and her fingers tighten weakly in my shirt. “Are we really going home?”
“Yes. We’re on the jet. The second we land, you’re going straight to the hospital.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Hospital?”
“You fell pretty hard, and you’re dehydrated and malnourished and probably a fuck-ton of other things.
” I keep my voice steady even though every word leaving my mouth makes rage burn hot through my chest. “Dr. Milazzo wants to keep you for a few days, check everything, and get you stronger before I can take you home.”
She blinks slowly, as if it takes effort to understand me. “Days?”
“Probably.”
Rosie’s gaze drifts to the small window, but I don’t think she really sees anything. Her chin quivers as she whispers, “I don’t want everyone treating me like I’m some victim. I’ll be back to my old self in no time.”
“Okay.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. “You’re a survivor, Rosie. Always have been.”
Her eyes come back to mine, and another tear slips down her temple. “I’m so tired.”
“I know.” I shift carefully, keeping one arm around her while reaching for the bottle of water on the small table. “Drink a little for me.”
She tries to lift her head, but it barely moves before falling back to the pillow.
Seeing her like this wrecks me.
“I’ve got you.” I move my arm up, supporting her neck, then hold the bottle to her lips and let her take a few sips before pulling it away. “Enough?”
She nods, her lashes fluttering. I feel her fingers curl against my chest, then she asks, “Is Tim okay?”
“Yes. Rodian got him out. He said he’d make sure Tim gets safely home.”
She’s quiet for a bit. “Do you know what happened with Danil and Yegor?”
“They’re alive.” My jaw tightens. “Georgi and Adriano have them hogtied in the front of the plane.”
The faintest hint of satisfaction moves over her face. “Good.”
I press my lips to her forehead. “You don’t have to worry about any of them right now. Your job is to sleep, heal, and let everyone take care of you for once.”
“I hate that job,” she whispers.
“I know. You’re shit at it.”
A breathy sound leaves her, almost a laugh, and fuck me, it’s the best thing I’ve heard in two and a half months.
Her eyes close, then open again, unfocused and heavy. “Don’t leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
Careful not to jostle her, I shift onto the bed beside her and tuck her against my chest. “I promise.” She presses her face into the crook of my neck, and the feeling damn near brings me to my knees.
My Rosie.
I hold her close, my hand brushing up and down her back as I try to soothe her.
Her body slowly relaxes against mine, the tension leaving her little by little, and I press a kiss to the top of her head, so fucking grateful she’s safely back with me.
“Enzo,” she suddenly murmurs.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for finding me.”
“Always, Rosie.” I press my mouth to her hair.
Her breathing slows until it’s warm and steady against my throat. I don’t move a muscle, soaking in the feel of having my woman in my arms.
I manage to doze on and off during the final hours of the flight before Christiano comes into the cabin. “We’re starting our descent,” he says quietly. “She’ll need to be secured for landing.”
I glance down at Rosie and curse internally. She hasn’t stirred at all, her face still tucked into the crook of my neck and one hand curled in my shirt.
The IV line taped to the back of her hand snakes up to the bag hanging beside the bed, steadily feeding fluids into her system.
Christiano comes closer and reaches for the IV stand. “I’ve got this.”
“Okay.”
Careful not to jostle her too much, I slide an arm beneath her knees and another around her back before lifting her against my chest as I get up.
She makes a sleepy sound, and her fingers tighten in my shirt. “Enzo?”
“I’m right here, bella mia.” I press my mouth to her hair. “We’re landing soon.”
The flight attendant steps out of the way when we exit the sleeping quarters, giving us room as I carry Rosie to the divan.
Christiano keeps the IV bag elevated as I lower her onto the leather seat as gently as I can, and when her face tightens with discomfort, my jaw clenches.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur. “Almost done.”
Christiano takes a seat on Rosie’s other side and lifts the IV bag, making sure the line has enough slack while I carefully settle her between us.
Keeping one arm around her, I fasten her seat belt first. After making sure she’s comfortable and that the IV line isn’t caught on anything, I secure Christiano’s belt before dropping into the seat beside her and fastening my own.
The second I’m close enough, Rosie turns toward me, her head finding my shoulder.
Christ.
I wrap my arm around her and carefully draw her against my side. Her hand with the IV slumps against my abs, and I place mine over hers.
“Go back to sleep,” I whisper.
Her lips barely move. “Don’t leave.”
“Never,” I vow.
My eyes touch briefly on Yegor and Danil, who I plan to torture for months.
Rosie’s breathing evens out again, and she sleeps through the entire descent. Every now and then, I glance down just to make sure she’s still comfortable.
Adriano, Georgi, Augusto, and the others keep glancing at Rosie, and I see the worry in their eyes because she’s been sleeping since we rescued her.
They don’t know her the way I do. My woman always goes into hibernation mode for a couple of days when she overworks herself, so I expect her to sleep her ass off after the nightmare she’s been put through.
The second the wheels touch down on the runway, relief crashes through me so hard I have to clench my jaw.
We’re finally home.
A few minutes later, the jet rolls to a stop, and before the seat belt sign is even off, I’m already unbuckling mine.
Christiano climbs to his feet with the IV bag while I carefully undo Rosie’s seat belt. I get up, and she barely stirs when I lift her into my arms.
“Enzo?” she murmurs, her eyes remaining closed.
“I’ve got you, bella mia.”
“Still love when you call me that,” she mumbles before exhaling a soft breath and settling against me again, falling fast asleep.
Dr. Milazzo is already standing near the door, his medical bag in one hand, while Nico, our head of security and Christiano’s main guard, lowers the stairs. He takes one look outside, then nods that it’s safe for us to proceed.
Georgi and the others hang back to bring the two prisoners while Dr. Milazzo disembarks first.
The second I step out of the jet, the cool New York air hits my face. I glance over the tarmac, seeing more of our men, the black Cosa Nostra ambulance, and the people who’ve spent the last two and a half months grieving Rosie.
The second Aunt Eden lays eyes on her daughter in my arms, a broken sound tears from her, and she breaks out into a run. Uncle Dario is right beside her, his face twisting with so much pain it almost stops me in my tracks.
Christ.
I keep walking, careful with every step, while Christiano stays close to me with the IV bag raised.
Aunt Eden reaches us first, but she stops herself from grabbing Rosie at the last second, her trembling hands hovering over her daughter’s face. “Oh, my baby,” she cries. “Rosie.”
Uncle Dario comes to a stop by Rosie’s head, and placing his hand on the side of her temples, he kisses her hair several times before groaning with relief.
“Rosie is okay,” I assure them, my voice sounding too rough from the emotions swirling in my chest. “She’s exhausted, and we’re taking her straight to the hospital, but she’s okay.”
Aunt Eden brushes trembling fingers over Rosie’s cheek before leaning in and giving her a kiss.
Rosie stirs, her lashes barely lifting, then she whispers, “Mom. Dad. I’m back.”
“Yes, you are, Rosellina,” Uncle Dario replies, his voice thick as he struggles not to cry. “We’ve missed you so fucking much.”
“I love you, baby,” Aunt Eden sobs. “Just get better. Okay?”
Rosie nods weakly before drifting back to sleep.
“Is it normal that she’s like this?” Aunt Eden asks. “So sleepy?”
Dr. Milazzo nods. “She’s been through a lot, Mrs. La Rosa. The best thing for Rosie right now is nutrition and rest. But I’d advise we leave for the hospital so I can do more checks and make sure there’s nothing seriously wrong.”
“Let’s go!” Uncle Dario snaps. “Move everyone.”
Only then do I get a glimpse of Gianna, standing near an SUV while wiping tears from her cheeks.
“Christiano, give the IV bag to Uncle Dario and go to Gianna,” I say, jerking my head in her direction.
He passes the bag, then jogs to our sister and engulfs her in a hug.
The ambulance doors are already open by the time we reach it, and Dr. Milazzo climbs in first, his voice low and controlled as he starts giving orders to the medic waiting inside.
Only when I’m beside the stretcher right outside the vehicle do I lower Rosie onto it, and the second I pull my arms from beneath her, I already miss holding her.
Fuck, I’ll have to step aside for the time being so either Uncle Dario or Aunt Eden can ride with Rosie.
The medic checks the IV line while Aunt Eden moves closer, trembling as she takes Rosie’s hand. “I love you, baby,” she whispers.
“Love you, Mom,” Rosie mumbles, the words barely audible.
The stretcher is loaded into the back of the ambulance, and almost instantly, Rosie’s features tighten, and a small, broken sound slips from her.
My heart stops, my vision zeroing in on her face.
“Enzo,” she whimpers.
Every set of eyes turns to me.
“Enzo!” she sobs, trying to turn onto her side as she becomes restless.
I dart forward, jumping into the ambulance, and leaning over her, I say, “I’m here, bella mia. Shh… I’m here.”
“Don’t… leave,” she whispers, her eyes opening slightly before closing again. “You promised.”
“Stay with her, Mr. Falco,” Dr. Milazzo says, then he looks at her parents. “For Rosie’s emotional state, it’s better if he rides with us so that she can remain calm.”
Uncle Dario’s jaw tightens, his gaze locked on Rosie as another faint whimper leaves her, then he nods. “We’ll be right behind the ambulance.” His voice roughens as he looks at me. “Don’t let her wake up without you. You’re the one she needs right now.”
Christ.
I take the seat beside the stretcher, wrapping my hand around Rosie’s while Aunt Eden and Uncle Dario step back so the doors can be shut.
Rosie’s fingers stir in my hold, and the tension in her face eases as she settles once more.
“I’ve got you, bella mia,” I murmur.
Dr. Milazzo gives the driver the order, and as the ambulance pulls away, I keep hold of my woman’s hand, watching every soft breath she takes while we head for the hospital.