Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
VAL
“I know you’re here somewhere, you stupid bitch!”
The shouting from below made me freeze in place, every muscle locked in fear, though I could flick my gaze toward Enzo’s bedroom.
Even over the whooshing of my heartbeat in my own ears, I could hear things shattering downstairs in the café. Then a big thud shook one of my bedroom walls. Not a gunshot, but more like he’d thrown one of the heavier tables against the wall below.
No, not Stefano.
I knew that right away. The intruder’s voice sounded sinister and mocking, like a villain from a Disney movie, like he tried to make himself seem bigger or tougher.
I recognized the voice, so familiar, but I couldn’t place it yet.
Definitely not one of my brothers.
This man had a New York accent.
My brothers wouldn’t have destroyed my business anyway. They stopped that kind of behavior a long time ago after one stupid journalist compared them to rioters.
From then on, they were careful to maintain a better public image to avoid what my father always referred to as “muddling the message.”
Hard to say what happened to the reporter.
When my family sent a message, they made it crystal clear.
Using a quick, panicked process of elimination, my mind settled on the only viable option.
The monster downstairs was the same man who had tried to kill my son.
And I didn’t have a way out for us.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
My mind raced, searching for possible moves.
The man down there would find the door for the staircase as soon as his destructive tirade moved into the kitchen. And that meant Enzo and I were trapped in the apartment.
All we could do was wait for him to find us.
No, I refused to be a damsel in distress or allow my son to be a sitting duck.
Enzo appeared inside the doorway, his eyes wide with fear.
“Mama?” he whispered.
I put my finger against my lips as he hurried closer, then I hugged him close to me and pulled us together into a crouch.
“We need to be very quiet, baby,” I whispered.
I thought I’d planned for everything, but I was wrong.
So fucking wrong.
I loved this little apartment. I had worked hard to make it perfect for us after Nonna passed, creating the warm, comfortable home my son deserved.
Everything from his overstuffed comforter he’d picked out for himself, to the colorful rugs on the wood flooring, to the bookcase wall we’d filled over the years with all the stories he loved so much and couldn’t bear to part with.
And a monster took it away from us.
Not Stefano.
I could no longer blame the destruction on him.
The fault belonged to the faceless monster downstairs, destroying everything as he headed our way.
I crept over to the window. A two-story drop onto concrete covered with broken glass. Visible from inside the café.
Dropping two stories into the filthy back alleyway with all the trash and metal dumpsters wouldn’t be any safer for my son.
We needed to run, and we couldn’t do that if either of us broke a leg jumping out the window.
I pulled Enzo with me into the connecting bathroom between the two bedrooms, then gently closed the doors.
My stupid brain paused for a second to note how odd it had been that our rooms at Stefano’s house also had a connecting bathroom.
“What are we going to do?” Enzo whispered.
Yes, what the hell were we going to do? What was I supposed to tell my terrified child? Shit. What was my plan?
“We wait quietly,” I blurted.
“Wait for what, Mama?”
I turned off the lights, plunging the windowless bathroom into darkness, and sat on the edge of the tub. Then I wrapped Enzo in my arms, so I could hold him and whisper to him.
“Okay, buddy, here’s what’s going to happen. Stefano will realize we're gone and come looking for us. If he gets here soon enough, we won’t have to worry about the man downstairs. Stefano will take care of him.”
I prayed to the Holy Mother that would happen.
“He’ll be really mad at us for leaving,” Enzo said.
“You let me handle that. You will be fine. He’ll be so relieved to see you that he won’t be mad at all.”
“But what if he is?” Enzo asked. “I won't ever be fine without you.”
My heart skipped beat after beat, breaking for him. A surge of overwhelming guilt shot through me. I had put him in a terrifying situation not once, but twice now.
“Listen to me, Enzo. Stefano won't hurt me,” I whispered. “I’ll tell him we came back for our clothes. You let me handle that part, okay?”
I could only hope things played out that way. If not, well, at least I could soothe my boy’s fears now, in the moment, and deal with the rest later.
Another crash downstairs echoed up the stairs and into the apartment, making us both jump.
I held on to my baby tighter.
“What happens if he doesn't get here in time?” he whispered.
I kissed the top of his head.
“We’re still going to be very quiet. When that man comes upstairs looking for us, he’ll go into one of the bedrooms first. Whichever one he chooses, you and I sneak into the other one, then we run down the stairs as fast as we can and get outside. Understand?”
Enzo nodded.
I hated being helpless and trapped, forced to sit and wait.
The waiting and anticipation exhausted me, and I needed to conserve my energy.
Deep breath in. And out.
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” he asked.
“No, baby, not this time. We can’t trust the police around here with this kind of thing.”
He nodded, locked his arms around my waist, and pressed his face against my chest.
The screaming taunts and crashing and banging continued from the monster downstairs as he destroyed the rest of the café. I tried to tell myself it didn't matter. I’d planned to leave it all anyway.
Just part of an old life. That was all.
But with every crash, something inside me also broke. The last ten years of my life had been poured into this café, and this bastard so recklessly dismantled it all.
I shut my eyes to picture what our new life might look like.
Maybe we would settle in Savannah instead of going west. Winters would be warmer, the everyday pace slower, and while I imagined that would take some getting used to, it might be a better start for Enzo and me.
Maybe we would open a New York style pizzeria or maybe even another cozy café.
But whenever I envisioned something new and far away, my mind shifted the vision to an image of dark blue eyes.
Eyes with the same crease between them as my son’s.
I hated how much I craved Stefano. I hated him for it. And that he could already speak so easily with my son and had earned his respect so quickly. I hated how relief had washed over me when he told me he wasn't marrying Benedetta.
And I fucking hated that he’d been right.
I couldn't protect Enzo on my own.
Now, as if proving my point, heavy footsteps climbed the stairs, each thudding hard on the old treads, one after the other.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are, fucking whore.”
“Get ready,” I whispered to Enzo.
He nodded against my chest before tiptoeing to the middle of the bathroom, getting ready to run in either direction.
I hoped the monster would go into Enzo's room first. My son’s bag sat on the bathroom floor beside us, but my bag sat on top of the bed in my room. Of course, I would leave it, but then my plans for a clean escape with the cash I’d saved over the years would go right out the window.
But at least we would be alive.
The lock on my bedroom door clicked.
Oh fuck, he was locking us inside.
He dragged the couch from the living room and shoved it against the door, then he went into Enzo's room.
A cold shudder rippled along my spine.
The man had done his homework. He knew the layout of the apartment. And it hadn’t taken him long to figure out my plan and blow it up so quickly.
There was no time. I had to act. I had to do it immediately.
Both bathroom doors could lock.
So I tiptoed over to turn the lock on the door between us and Enzo’s room. I led my son by the hand into my room. Then, before closing the bathroom door behind me, I locked it.
I met my son’s gaze and mouthed the words “get into the wardrobe” at him.
The stubborn boy shook his head.
I pointed forcefully at the wardrobe. “Now!”
But he still shook his head, mouthing back at me “not without you” as he extended his hand toward me.
With desperate tears stinging my eyelids, I kneeled in front of him and whispered into his ear.
“I need you to hide so you can help Stefano find me. Can you be brave for me? Can you help your father save me?”
It didn't matter whether he and Stefano ever found me. It didn't matter if this man killed me before I got out of the room. I needed Enzo to hide right now. I needed him to be safe.
Stefano would come for our son and fiercely protect him.
Deep down, I’d known all along that if Stefano knew he had a son, he would keep the boy safe. He would succeed where I could only fail.
Enzo nodded, agreeing to do as I asked.
Our attacker broke through the first bathroom door.
My boy scrambled into the wardrobe, pushing his way to the back behind our winter coats and Nonna’s old dresses, so even if the doors opened wide, he would be hidden.
As I closed the wardrobe and turned away from it, the second bathroom door splintered and ripped off its hinges, falling into the bedroom.
My heart leaped into my throat, and I darted to the other side of the room, leading the man away from Enzo’s location.
I pretended to struggle with opening the heavy old window.
The monster stepped into the light.
He stood there and stared at me, saying nothing at all.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Shock vibrated through my soul.
I could hardly catch my breath.
“You? Why are you doing this to us?” I cried.