Chapter 2
Enzo
“Get away from him!” Valentina cried. Another scream escaped her, this time, a sound of pure rage. She rushed me, jumping onto me as she tried to claw at my face.
Valentina was small compared to me. So delicate that she weighed close to nothing.
And yet, she was punching and kicking me with all her might, attempting to inflict as much pain as possible.
Mostly futile, because the only thing that left any actual damage were the brass knuckles on her hand.
She’d been smart to arm herself with a weapon.
That was Valentina’s only chance against me.
Nothing else could possibly even the score.
I was well over six feet and had honed my body into pure muscle.
Valentina was five-foot-five tops and slender as a flower stem.
She was no match for me, and yet, when the brass knuckles made contact with my ribs, she managed to leave me winded and straining under renewed pain.
I quickly pulled my hand away from Don’s chest so I could grab hold of her wrist. As she tried in vain to land another blow, she started sobbing, the anguished sound tearing at my heart.
The brass knuckles fell to the floor, giving me an opportunity to maneuver her off me, her weight barely registering.
“Valentina, if you want to save your father, you’ll do as I say,” I told her forcefully. Maybe my words would knock some sense into her.
“You killed him,” she accused, pushing past me to kneel beside her father and place a hand on his pale cheek.
“He’s still breathing,” I said, quickly rising to my feet to turn on a nearby lamp. “I’m going to alert security. They’ll lock the place down so they can find the shooter.”
I didn’t wait for her to say anything as I headed for my bedroom to set off the alarm system. After barking a warning and a set of instructions to the guards downstairs, I went back into the living room.
She was crying. Cradling her father’s head with one arm while she kept her other hand pressed against his wound.
“We have to call 911,” I said to her, taking command of the situation. Valentina was in no state to think rationally or call the shots here.
The light from the lamp showed the extent of the damage to Mr. Romano’s chest. His white shirt was now soaked in blood, and his face had gone pale. Still, his chest was rising and falling. We needed to get him medical attention ASAP.
“We can’t call 911,” she countered, looking up at me with a haunted look in her teary eyes. “They’ll ask too many questions we can’t answer. Gunshot wounds have to be reported to police.”
“We have to save him,” I told her.
“We?” Hatred made her words sound brittle. “You did this.”
“I didn’t,” I said.
“Liar,” she flung out, voice dripping with venom.
“We have to call emergency services,” I repeated, keeping my voice as even as possible in order to get through to her. One of us had to be calm. Don Romano’s life depended on it.
She shook her head, her face streaked with tears. “No. We’ll call my people. They’ll get him out of here and take him to one of our doctors. Those have always been my father’s instructions in case of an emergency.”
“One of your...” Of course, they must have had certain medical professionals on-call.
Anything to avoid having to explain themselves to the authorities who weren’t in their pocket.
Much as I hated having to relinquish any control to the Romanos, this tactic would also help my family.
I had no good explanation for Don Romano’s condition and calling 911 would just invite cops, eager to investigate.
The last thing either family needed was the law shoving its nose into our business.
There was no good explanation I could offer the Romanos either right now, but better to deal with one enemy instead of two. I’d rather contend with Valentina’s family than have to deal with them and the cops on top of it all.
“Fine,” I relented, jaw clenching. “Give me the contact details.”
“I don’t want your help,” she spat out.
“Too fucking bad because you’re getting it,” I informed her, looking down at the carnage at my feet.
I snatched her bag off the floor, the leather smeared with her father’s blood. I retrieved her cell phone from inside and held it up. “The contact details now or I call every last person on your phone until you listen to reason.”
Her blue eyes burned into mine at that threat but she didn’t defy me. In a rigid tone she gave a name and a number through clenched teeth. Looked like she was going to listen to reason.
I made the call. Put it on speaker so that Valentina’s voice could prove I was telling the truth and not setting some sort of trap for the rest of the Romanos.
After Valentina ordered her father’s men to head to my apartment pronto, I hung up and left the living room again to grab the box of first aid supplies I kept stashed in the apartment.
When I returned, she was still trying to stop the bleeding.
Don Romano was barely breathing now, his face ghostly pale and covered in a sickly sheen of sweat.
Without asking or warning, I crouched beside her again, pushed her hand away from the wound, and ripped his blood-stained shirt open.
Then I grabbed some bandages from the box.
Valentina gasped. “What are you doing?”
“Saving your father’s life,” I bit out, gesturing for her to help lift the old man’s arm so I could get to work.
I felt the rage radiating from her, but again, she did as she was told, working to raise her father’s arm.
The old man gave a feeble groan of pain, reminding me to work fast so I could spare him further agony.
Working as rapidly as I could, with Valentina’s help, I managed to get the bandage wrapped around Don Romano’s torso, the wound between his chest and shoulder blade finally showing signs that the bleeding was slowing down.
Moments later, one of my security guards came through the front door, a group of men behind him.
Two of the men were carrying a stretcher and they got to work immediately, hoisting Don up and disappearing with him out of my apartment in seconds.
These guys worked with practiced ease; grim-faced but efficient.
As Valentina followed after the stretcher, I reached for her arm.
“I’ll go with you,” I said.
This time, she didn’t do as she was told. She whirled around to glare at me, her entire body shaking with unmistakable fury. “You’ve done enough.”
I didn’t get the chance to respond to that, because Valentina wrenched her arm from me and disappeared after her father.
~~*~~
THE ROMANO GOONS DIDN’T leave my apartment.
They stood guard with their guns drawn, nobody saying a word as they took their positions.
There was no point trying to argue with these thugs.
It was clear that they held me responsible for this and they weren’t going to stand down until Valentina gave the order.
Truthfully, I was lucky she hadn’t commanded them to kill me.
Instead of arguing with them, I told my own security guard to continue with my previous instructions.
After giving a nod, the security guard reluctantly left.
I could sense that he wanted to stay and fight these guys off, but that would be foolish.
He’d be outnumbered, and while they might decide to keep me alive for the moment, they sure as hell weren’t going to care about some nameless guard.
They’d shoot him on the spot if he tried anything.
Besides, I needed him to track down the gunman.
Alone with the Romano henchmen, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and sank down onto the leather sofa. For the rest of the night, while the Romano goons gathered evidence and cleaned up the crime scene, I worked on emptying the bottle. As I drank, I wracked my addled brain for the next step.
Once I got my hands on the shooter, I could prove to the Romanos that I hadn’t done this.
Hell, if Don Romano recovered, he’d be able to vouch for me.
But that was a big if. A massive question mark over whether he’d even live and another question mark over whether this marriage to Valentina could still go ahead.
If Don succumbed to his injury, I would be a dead man walking.
The rest of my family would be dragged into a war we’d worked so hard to avoid.
Finally, after letting my mind spin out from the alcohol, I passed out on the sofa.
One of the Romano lowlifes roughly shook me awake. Early morning sunlight streamed into the apartment.
“Time to get up,” the Romano goon said in a gruff tone.
I glanced down at my watch to check the time. But the watch face was bloodstained, obscuring the hour. The blood was a grim reminder of last night’s shooting. Based on the pale shade of the light, it was still early morning. Likely around six or seven.
Before I could suggest that the henchmen get the hell out of my apartment, Valentina strode in through the front door and tossed her purse onto a side table. The guards all stood up straighter, greeting her immediately.
My heart hammered hard. Not just because there was a good fucking chance that she was going to announce that her father was dead, but because even now her beauty could stun a man into silence.
Her catlike blue eyes were crystal clear, and her face glowed like she had scrubbed away the tears that streaked down her cheeks last night.
The color was back in her cheeks, and her full mouth was set in pouty determination.
If she was suffering any grief or rage, she didn’t show it. Right now, she was all business.
Valentina was still wearing her gold dress, but she now had a coat draped over her shoulders.
Probably to hide the bloodstains. Unlike me, she had at least managed to wash the blood off her hands.
Looking at her, nobody would be able to tell that she had been covered in blood up to her elbows mere hours earlier.
She was the picture of a bride who had just celebrated her engagement.