Chapter 41

Chapter Forty-One

Saverio

I die a hundred deaths while Nicole extracts the bullet and stitches Anya up. My treasure bears it without complaining, even refusing the brandy I offer to numb the pain because our baby is hungry and my injured wife—who got shot and could’ve fucking died—has to breastfeed her.

I soothe Claire while Nicole disinfects Anya’s cuts and scrapes. Livy already gave Claire the bottle with expressed breastmilk Anya had left in the fridge, but judging by my baby’s angry red face, she’s starving, stressed, and wound up from the aftereffect of the drug Morelli gave her. Nicole took a blood sample to run tests. We have to be sure there are no adverse effects to worry about.

Dante brings everyone up to speed as Nicole works. When Nicole has bandaged Anya’s cut-up palms and feet, I put Claire in my wife’s arms and push them in my wheelchair to our room where I make Anya get into bed. While she feeds Claire, I go downstairs to see Nicole off. After what happened, I’m sure Logan is anxious to leave. Plus, it’s already three in the morning.

The Wades wait with Dante and Livy in the study.

I place a hand on Livy’s shoulder. “How are you doing?”

Her smile is brave. “Good.”

“Can I get you anything? A stiff drink?”

“I won’t say no. Brandy, please.”

I go to the wet bar to pour her a glass. “Anyone else?”

“No thanks,” Nicole says. “We’re heading home. Before we go, what’s the story?”

I thought about that on the way here. “Mary Brennan was angry when Anya refused to give her money. Being the gold digger she was, she saw an opportunity to get her hands on that money. Her plan involved drugging Claire’s babysitter and kidnapping her own granddaughter for ransom.” I cross the floor, using the cane, and hand Livy her drink. “She told us to bring the money to the motel. We dropped off all the cash we could get our hands on, everything we had at home and at the club. We left with Claire. That’s all we know.”

Always catching on fast, Nicole says, “Someone, maybe an accomplice, must’ve gotten greedy. They most probably went in after you, killed Mary, and left with all the money.”

“Exactly,” I say.

“We didn’t call the police because Anya didn’t want to get her mother into trouble,” Livy elaborates. “Mary was always up to no good, but she’d never hurt her own granddaughter.”

My smile is flat. “Very good.”

It’s believable. Anya never did have her mother arrested for all the shit she caused.

Nicole continues, “After we sent the guests home, you came back with Claire, and we’ve been hanging out here with you guys until now.”

A single nod communicates my gratitude. “That’s pretty much it.”

“Makes sense,” Livy says.

Dante doesn’t look like someone who spent half the night chasing after my daughter’s kidnappers. His tux is as pristine as when he arrived at the party, and not a hair is out of place. “Then we’re all on the same page.”

Logan throws at thumb at the door. “If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to take my wife home. This whole situation has been taxing on her.”

“I’m okay, baby, but that’s sweet of you,” Nicole says, smacking a kiss on his lips.

“By all means.” I go ahead to the door. “I appreciate what you did for us tonight.”

I owe them all big time, and I’m not quite sure what to do with that. I’m never in anyone’s debt. I’m used to working alone, but I have to admit that I wouldn’t have been able to pull off tonight—not the party and neither what happened after—without these people. I guess that’s what you call friends.

Nicole gives a tired sigh. “Don’t mention it.”

I follow them down the hallway with Dante and Livy in tow.

Massaging the stiff and tired muscles of my neck, I open the front door for them.

Nicole goes on tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “Let me know if Anya’s wound gets infected.”

“Yeah.” I rub my nape. “Now that Anya recruited you, I don’t have to feel bad about calling you at all hours of the night.”

“Hold on there,” Logan says. “This was a once-off thing, right?”

Nicole pushes him out the door. “Let’s drag our asses to bed. I’m exhausted.”

I nod at Dante. “Send a couple of men with them just in case.”

“Do you expect trouble?” Logan asks with a nervous frown.

“No.” My tone is dry. “But I never take anything for granted.”

“Call me if you need me,” Dante says with meaning before following the Wades outside.

When I finally close the door, I turn to Livy. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“No thanks is necessary.” She smiles sweetly. “I did what anyone who loves Anya and Claire as much as I do would do.”

I doubt that. I don’t think many people would’ve walked into a room full of armed men with the hope of getting out alive.

“Let’s make one thing clear.” My voice holds a warning. “Don’t let this ever happen again.”

She lifts her chin with defiance, her ponytail swinging at her back. “I’ll do what I have to. Don’t forget I’m many years older than you. I’m sorry to say, but you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

I suppress a groan. “We will talk about this. Later. For now?—”

“Yes?”

She looks at me expectantly, innocently almost, as we walk to the elevator. I’m too fucking tired for the stairs.

“What would you say if I asked you to stay here?”

She studies me sideways. “As in permanently?”

I push the button to call down the elevator. “Anya and I like having you here. Claire too. That’s to say if you feel the same.”

“Let me think about it,” she says with a ladylike nod when I hold the door for her.

I smile. “Whenever you’re ready.”

On the second floor, she steps out ahead of me. “Don’t be too hard on her.” She turns to face me. “Not tonight.”

“I won’t,” I lie.

Because I’m going to demand some answers.

Because Anya nearly died.

Fuck.

She killed Raphael Morelli.

I need a drink.

“Nighty night,” Livy says, giving me a finger wave.

“Get some sleep, Livy.”

I watch her walk away as I head to the bedroom, my thoughts still with the Morellis. Michele Morelli’s men are spread thin around the city. In Raphael’s greedy quest for money and power, he got most of them killed. When Michele learns of his son’s death, he’d be wise to pull out. In any event, I’m going after him. Never allow a man with a vendetta to live. Besides, I made an oath on the day of my wedding, and I’ll keep my promise to wipe out their whole organization.

Anya sits in our bed with her back resting against the headboard, still nursing Claire when I enter.

The sight of them sends my heart racing. Blood fires through my veins, heating my skin when I think again and again how close I came to losing them. The terrifying thought plays on a never-ending loop in my mind.

Anya watches me with trepidation as I loosen the noose of my tie. She knows what’s to come.

“How do you feel?” I ask, stopping at my side of the bed.

She looks up at me with those big, whisky-colored eyes. “I’m fine.”

I take two painkillers from the bottle on my nightstand and hold them to her on my palm.

“I’m fine,” she says again, not taking the pills.

I go around the bed and leave them on her nightstand. “There’s no point in being hard-headed. You have nothing to prove, least of all to me.” I aim for humor. “Everyone knows you’re as tough as nails.”

She raises a brow. “Is that the kettle calling the pot black?”

My gaze is drawn to the beautiful little girl in her arms that I consider every bit my own. “How’s she doing?”

“Better now that her tummy is full. She’s so tired.” She stares at Claire with a tender expression. “She fell asleep in my arms.”

I shrug out of my jacket and let it drop where it falls. “We better let her sleep here with us tonight.”

The sidelong glance Anya shoots me is grateful. “That’s a good idea.”

I don’t say it’s to make our baby feel safe after the trauma she suffered. I also don’t say that it’s more for my benefit to keep both of them close to me. I’m not letting them out of my sight.

“I know you’re tired,” I start. “But before we get some sleep, you owe me answers.”

“The bomb was built by an explosives expert your hacker put me in contact with,” she says smoothly. “You once told me you left nothing to chance, that you consider every possible scenario and outcome when you develop a strategy.” She shrugs. “So do I.”

“You anticipated that Raphael would kidnap our daughter?”

“I anticipated that he’d corner me at one stage or another to torture me for whereabouts of his wife.”

“You don’t know where Elena is.”

“No, but I know her new name.”

And it’s not hard to pull flight records and find a location when you have a name.

“But he thought I knew,” she says.

It’s not lost on me that she doesn’t use his name—Raphael.

She lifts her chin. “Even if I knew, I’d never tell him.”

I study her with disbelief and awe competing in my chest. “So you had a bomb built.”

“When plugged into a computer, the explosive unit in the USB key casing activates. A green light shows when it’s ready. It’s programmed to detonate with the push of a designated key.”

I narrow my eyes. “You had to know exactly when Raphael was going to punch that key.”

“That was easy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“The key was the last letter of the password.”

I’m curious. “What was the password?”

“Raphael Morelli.”

Awe wins hands down. How’s that for irony? My girl is a fucking genius. That I already know. However, “If you ever?—”

“Don’t make threats,” she says gently. “Not unless you really mean them.”

“Oh, I very much mean this. I’m going to paddle your ass so hard I’ll break skin. You’re never to put your life in danger again, do you understand?”

“So only you are allowed to sacrifice your life?”

The fucking sound of that. To sacrifice her life. I close my eyes. When I open them again, she’s looking at me with those scrapes on her cheeks and cuts on her skin. And all I want to do is wrap my arms around her and never let go, keep her safe, tell her what I couldn’t. What I should’ve.

“Anya, I almost lost you tonight. I very nearly didn’t have the chance to tell you how much I lo?—”

“No,” she says in a soft voice. “Don’t say things you don’t mean just because you think that’s what I want to hear.”

“Anya—”

“Please.” Her smile is tremulous. “Just come to bed. It’s been a long night.”

I clench my hands at my sides, willing her to listen, but maybe it’s not the right moment. Or maybe it’s too late after all. Getting there in time didn’t win me another chance. Maybe, by my own callous design, I lost her long before she almost died tonight.