Chapter 28

TWENTY-EIGHT

Angelo

The carnage around me makes the warehouse looks like an abattoir.

They're all dead.

Marziale walked straight into my trap. They arrived early, but we were already waiting. We cornered his men around the warehouse. When we opened fire, they had no choice but to flee inside for cover. The chemical gas took care of the rest. Our gas masks protected us. They were immobilized, their motor skills hampered by the paralyzing effect on their nervous systems, but their sensory impulses were intact.

They felt everything.

I take comfort from that as I look at the unrecognizable carcass that hangs on a hook from the ceiling. I did everything to Marziale I promised myself I would. He just blew out his last, laborious breath through his skinless, lipless face. I've taken what I wanted. There's nothing left to hang around for.

"Let's wrap this up," I say, wiping sweat from my forehead.

My expert already planted the explosives. He gives a thumbs-up sign. We have five minutes to get the hell out of here.

"Do we take him?" a man asks, nudging Enzo's still body with the tip of his shoe.

"No."

He doesn't deserve a burial. He didn't fight for me. He fought for Gianni. Without formal training or combat experience, he didn't last long. My only regret is that he died on impact when the bullet ripped through his heart. He should've suffered.

The men work fast, gathering weapons and clearing the building. I catch a glimpse of my face in the rearview mirror as I slide behind the wheel of the SUV. Covered in blood, I'm a fucking mess. The whites of my eyes are the only color discernible in the red. My clothes are drenched, my hands soaked. I look every bit the monster I am.

Four minutes later, I steer the vehicle over the bridge. The three SUVs with my men follow. On top of the hill, I stop to look at the warehouse. An explosion blasts the building, orange clouds billowing into the sky. Another one rocks the guardhouse. Metal roof plates fly through the air. A few smaller explosions follow in quick succession, flattening the whole block of constructions. All Marziale's assets gone. All traces of that son of a bitch wiped out.

I savor the sight for a couple of seconds before taking the road that runs into the mountains. We stop at the abandoned farmhouse where I left my car, undress, and burn the clothes. There's no electricity or running water, but the melting snow feeds a small waterfall that tumbles over the rocks into a stream.

The men light a fire and heat water to wash, but I scrub myself clean in the icy water under the fall.

We dress in the clothes we packed, dump the ashes of our burnt gear in the stream, cover our tracks, and take a detour inland. While the men carry on home in the SUVs, I drive my car to the hospital.

For once, the corridor is empty except for my men. Visiting hours ended at eight. It's eleven already.

The nurse from this morning steps out of Sabella's room. "Mr. Russo." Despite the late hour, she says in a chirpy voice, "Your wife is making progress."

"She is?" I hold my breath. "Is she awake?"

"Not yet, but she talked, which is always a good sign."

"She talked?" My pulse spikes. "In her sleep?"

"You can say so."

My gut clenches. "What did she say?"

A smile splits her face. "She asked for you."

I stare at her, dumbfounded. "For me?"

"Yes. Angelo. That's what she said. Several times. Isn't that your name?"

My name.

Sabella said my name.

Not consciously, but she said it all the same, and I wasn't there to hear it.

"That is you," she says, phrasing it like a question with uncertainty bleeding into her expression.

I scrub a hand over my face. "Yes."

She pats my arm. "Well, then it's good. It means she's slowly but surely coming back to consciousness."

"I should've been here." Fuck. "I should've been here when she asked for me."

Her manner is kind. "Don't beat yourself up about it. You had to go home to shower, have a meal, and get some rest. You were here before daylight. You must've been exhausted."

"I wanted to hear it," I say more to myself than to her.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll hear it plenty when she comes to."

I'm not so sure, but I don't correct her as she waltzes away.

"You can stay for a few minutes," she says from over her shoulder before adding with a wink, "I won't tell the matron."

I pull the chair up to the bed and squeeze my body into the narrow seat before taking my wife's hand. Maybe I'm imagining it, but her skin feels warmer.

"How are you, cara?" I whisper, kissing every one of her fingertips.

Her hand stays limp in mine.

"Don't worry." I brush a thumb over her knuckles. "You're going to be fine. I'm going to take care of you. Just wake up so I can take you home." Desperate, I go as low as using the children. "The kids miss you. They want you to come home." I add in a raw tone, "So do I."

She gives no reaction, no sign that she heard me.

I sit there for a long time, hoping she'll speak again, but the gods who watched over her and spared her life must be punishing me, because the only sound is the solid beep of the heart rate monitor.

The sun is filtering through the window when the doctor enters. She gives a start when she notices me.

"Visiting hours aren't until eleven." She bustles to the trolley and takes a clipboard from a file pocket. "Please tell me you haven't been here all night."

I don't reply.

"Hmm." She looks at me from under her lashes. "I better have a word with the nurses."

"She's my wife," I say, clenching my teeth.

"And she has to rest," she says.

I scrub a hand over my face.

Scrutinizing me through narrowed eyes, she says, "You look like you haven't slept in days. Why don't you go home and get some rest? I have to run a few tests. You'll only be in the way."

"I want to be here when?—"

I catch myself, not wanting to admit how desperately I want to be here for my wife on the odd chance that she calls for me. She probably cursed me rather than asked for me, but I don't want to hear it from a nurse again.

"When she wakes up?" The doctor's look is compassionate. "You'll be the first to know. Now, go on." She shoos me away. "I have work to do."

Reluctantly, I abandon my post, but only because she has to take care of Sabella.

"That's a good man," Dr. Casanova says. "Enjoy that nap. You deserve it."

Sleep isn't an option, but I don't bother to say so. I walk outside, get into my car, and drive to Bastia.

I instructed my men to remain inconspicuous at the hospital in the city. They're posing as visitors in the lounge opposite Roch's room.

"Anything?" I ask in a low voice as I make my way to the vending machine.

The man in the direct line of my vision shakes his head. "No surprise visits."

I pop in a few coins and select a can of soda and a chocolate bar. I finish the bar in two bites and down the Coke before dumping the can in the trash. Then I cross the hallway and enter the room.

Roch sits up in the hospital bed. He has more tubes connected to his body than a human experiment in a sci-fi movie. A tall blonde perches on the edge of his bed, clutching his hand in hers. At the tilt of his head, she gets up and shoots me a curious look before leaving the room.

I walk to the bed. "Lucky bastard."

His eyes are hard. Cold. "That fucker is lucky he got me before I fired a shot at him, or he would've been six feet under like his cronies."

"I'd rather say you're lucky he's such a lousy shot. If he'd hit you anywhere else, you would've died faster."

"Yeah." He snorts. "How lucky for me that it takes hours to die from a bullet in the stomach."

I glance at his midriff. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm hooked up on morphine, so great." The iciness returns to his glare. "How's she doing? My fiancée told me she's in the village hospital. Everyone in town is talking about it."

My back goes stiff. Our business is fucking private. "She's stable."

"I'm sorry," he says, not shying away from holding my gaze. "I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner."

I clench my jaw. Nod. That one is on me, not him. It's my blame to carry.

He pulls his eyes into slits and drops his volume. "He dead?"

I nod again.

"Good," he says, nostrils flaring. "I hope you made his last hours memorable."

There's no question about that. Like I promised, he cried for his mommy. "You gave my wife a phone."

"I knew that's why you came." He looks me up and down. A hint of humor laces his tone. "Under the guise of caring about my welfare."

"I don't give a damn about you."

He laughs then winces. "Yeah. I got that the first time round."

"I did however come here under the guise of thanking you."

His expression turns serious. "I don't need your thanks. I did what anyone would've done."

"Not many men would've been able to do what you've done."

"Your humble gratitude is accepted."

"You haven't answered me yet."

"About the phone?" He scoffs. "Sabella was hiking up and down that mountain alone. I didn't like it. I wanted her to be able to call someone if she needed help."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"You fired me. I had nothing to say to you." He adds with a softer inclination, "She asked me not to tell you about her visits to the village."

"How long has she been going there?"

"I ran into her at the market a while ago."

"The market? Why? What was she doing there?"

He pinches one eye closed, considering me. After a beat, he says, "She was working for money."

I frown. "Money?"

"Yeah, you know, money—the stuff that buys things."

Ignoring his sarcasm, I ask, "Like what kind of things?"

"Ask Mrs. Campana."

"The pharmacist?"

"Everyone knows Sabella caught lice in your house."

So that's why she ventured to the village on her own. And Heidi protected Sabella by telling me she'd gotten the treatment. Well, she didn't say that exactly. My housekeeper chose her line carefully. She said she'd taken care of the problem.

My stomach tightens imaging all the dangers Sabella could've encountered, not to mention the distance she walked.

He pins me with an accusing look. "She also needed a pregnancy test. You're a piece of work, know that?"

At the mention of the pregnancy test, I ball my hands into fists.

"Is she…?" he asks.

It takes everything and then some to answer that question, but when I open my mouth, no sound comes out.

"The baby?" he asks.

I push down the feelings, showing him nothing. "No."

"Fuck. I'm sorry."

"Noted."

"There'll be another one."

"It's best you don't bring that up."

"I understand."

"Come back to work for me."

His smile is flat. "Finally, the true reason you came."

"I'll pay you double."

"No thanks."

"However much you want. If not for me, come back for Sabella. Be her bodyguard again."

"No can do, man. That ship has sailed."

"A teacher?" I chuckle. "Really? That's what you want?"

"I have a woman now." He hesitates. "We have a family on the way."

The thought that Sabella and I could've had that too drives a stake through my heart. "Congratulations."

"Yeah."

"If you change your mind?—"

"I won't."

I rap a fist on the metal frame of the bed. "I won't forget what you did. I owe you."

"Thanks." As I turn to leave, he says, "Don't be a dick to her again when she wakes up. She deserves better."

The intention was never to be dick. Our family feud kept an unbridgeable chasm between us. I wanted to show her the level of my determination in keeping her. All I proved was the intensity of my cruelty. It's going to be much harder to convince her I'm capable of kindness. He's right about one thing though, she deserves better. She deserves much better than me.

My phone rings as I make my way downstairs. It's the hospital in the village. My pulse goes into overdrive as I swipe the screen and press the phone against my ear.

"Mr. Russo," the doctor says. "I'm calling about your wife."