Chapter 12 Antonio

The sun rises with Gemma in my arms. Soft blonde strands fall effortlessly over her beautiful face. Her full, pink lips beg to be kissed, but I opt to get out of bed. It takes every bit of self-control in my body to not impale her with my morning wood.

A part of me wonders about waking her up with my face between her legs. But given everything Gemma’s been through the past few days, I let her sleep. Besides, I’m certain my mouth of minty freshness won’t deliver a wakeup call she’ll appreciate. Unless she’s into that. I’ll find out when she’s awake.

Breakfast is the most important task on my mind as I head into the kitchen to cook something up for us. She cooked for me and it’s only right that I return the favor. The only thing that stops me is my phone chiming to life.

“Fuck, it’s not even seven yet,” I yawn and reach for my phone on the kitchen island. The number flashing across the screen makes me send the call to voicemail, but Dr. Melanie Stavros is persistent. She calls endlessly until I answer the call.

“What?” I hiss into the line.

“You left my office before we could finish talking about your career path. I expect you to be on site to work your overnight shift, Antonio.”

“I told you I was taking a leave of absence.”

“No, you’re supposed to request a leave of absence. Your request has been denied.”

I shake my head. “Why are you being this way?”

“Because I'm tired of my talented doctors being wined, dined, and stolen to work at these other hospitals. You still have time to be sculpted into a magnificent surgeon and I want you. I want that face of yours to be the face of our new surgical residency program.”

“No.”

Melanie laughs into the line. “You said that as if I asked you. I told you what’s at stake. I know what you did. I know what you hid during your review in front of the medical board. I know—”

“You don’t know shit. I’m not taking this leave of absence to search for another job, Melanie. My family is in shambles and my fiancé needs me. If you don’t approve my leave, then you’ll have my resignation,” I tell her.

“Oh really?” Melanie challenges.

“I’m going to ask you again. Can you please approve my request for a leave of absence? I’m only asking for three months, Melanie.”

“No. Request denied. If you lied, cheated, and bribed your way into hiding your criminal record, why should I believe you won’t take a position at a rival institution? Don’t you get it, Antonio?”

“No, I don’t.”

“If you work at a different hospital, it isn’t just you that leaves. Every nurse that requests to be on your shift, every orderly that works for you, they’ll all follow you. You’ll take 25% of the ER staff with you when you leave. Not to mention your ties to Julian Blackwell jeopardize construction on that new wing we’re putting in. The only way to stop that is to ensure you stay here, or you never work anywhere else in this city.”

“That is so fucking insane, I can’t believe you’re trying to blame me for your shitty turnover rate. If the staff leaves, uproots their life, to start at the bottom of the totem pole in another hospital, they’re just as crazy as you. You know what, I take that back. They wouldn’t be crazy. They’d be justified because if this is your reasoning, you have my resignation, Dr. Stavros. It will be signed, sealed, and delivered to your desk first thing tomorrow morning.”

I disconnect the call and block her number. My phone skips across the counter like a rock skims a lake as I let it fall out of my hand.

What the fuck have I done?

My stomach twists in knots as my face stings with tears threatening to fall. My life is being turned on its head all over again because of Marzano family bullshit. No, it’s not bullshit. Protecting Gemma isn’t bullshit. She shouldn’t pay for the feuds of her father and brothers.

I don’t want to be a surgeon but a part of me would have done anything Melanie asked me to because the hospital did take a chance on me. I shake my head and start banging pots and pans around, forgetting Gemma is asleep in the loft upstairs.

There are nearly a dozen eggs swirling around a large pan while coffee brews and I butter toast. I use some left-over prosciutto to complement the scrambled eggs. Gemma comes into the kitchen just as I finish plating our breakfast.

She’s in a pair of panties with a tank top that threatens to have me swipe everything off the island to eat her for breakfast instead.

“What did those pots and pans do to you?” Gemma asks with a slight grin.

“Nothing,” I tell her, wanting to bask in her beauty and avoid thinking of how I just threw my career away. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I was awake before the clanging. Did I hear you quitting your job?” she asks.

I don’t have the energy to lie or deflect, so I do what any fiancé is supposed to do. I tell Gemma the truth. “Yeah. I asked for some time to deal with the fallout of this Frankie shit and the Director thought I was taking the time to find another job. It’s like letting a really good lawyer leave the firm.”

“Wow, I never knew doctors were allowed to sign non-compete clauses.” She takes a bite, closing her eyes and moaning to my delight. “What is in these eggs? They’re delicious.”

“A little mascarpone and heavy cream,” I tell her. “It’s illegal in the state of California to have any doctor sign a non-compete agreement, but she has something over me to compel me to stay.”

“Obviously not since you just quit.”

“I quit because I hate feeling like someone has anything over me. She knows about my past. Bash did everything in his power to seal my prison record, but the director found out somehow. I’m certain that was Charleston Blackwell’s doing. Bastard.”

“Good old Uncle Charlie who was never allowed around me or any of my friends. The stories I heard about him were gross. I can only imagine what he was like in real life.”

I nod in agreement. “Yeah, no one got anything out of him for free. It makes sense that if Bash or your father asked him to scrub my past, he’d keep it to hold me under his thumb. A favor he’d likely cash in at the most appalling time he needed. Thankfully, he died before he could cash in that chip.”

“Why do you have to pay a debt to a dead man?”

I shrug. “It’s not an enforceable debt. There are too many people tangled in this web for it to be exposed. It is enforceable enough to stop me from going to another hospital. She’ll whisper in anyone’s ear to stop another medical facility from hiring me.”

“What does that mean for your career? Are you going to have to leave San Francisco? Or are you going to call her bluff?” She asks.

“I’ll work at the clinic with Ronan and his sisters for now. I know they can use me full time.”

“Isn’t that a pay cut? Will you be able to afford this place?” She gestures around her with a fork full of food in her hand.

“I own this place outright. I just pay the condo board fees, taxes, and utilities. I’ll be fine for a while.”

“Is that why you mentioned me not having to work? You want to stay cooped up in the house with me all day long?”

That brings a smile to my face. “I wouldn’t mind that at all, but I know me. I can’t sit still too long. It’s why I love the rush of being an ER doctor. After we fucked on every surface of this place twice—”

She cuts me off. “Then we’d venture outside?”

I don’t have time to reply before her phone rings. Her expression falls as she ends the call.

“What now?” I ask.

“Natalie’s home and said there’s a package waiting for me. It says it’s from my old New York address, but she doesn’t want to open it.”

“Well, if you’re going to work, we can swing by and pick it up before I drop you off,” I tell her.

She agrees and we finish up breakfast to head over to her apartment. When we arrive, Damian pulls the door open before Gemma can put her key into the lock.

“Jeezus, Damian, don’t do that.” Gemma shrieks before shoving him out of the way.

I hold my hand out to shake his, but he’s standoffish at best, seething with fury at worst. He grips me by the arm to stop me from following Gemma into her apartment.

“I don’t care what you’ve done for Bash, if you hurt Gemma-- “

This time I stop him, snatching my arm out of his grasp. “I’ve been putting my body through every kind of hurt to keep her safe. I’ve mutilated a corpse and as of this morning, I just quit my job to be here for her. I have no intention of hurting her, Damian.”

I stop just shy of telling him that I’ve always loved her. Well, not always, but from the moment we shared a kiss so many years ago, she’s the only woman I’ve thought about. Bash was happy to get rid of me, shipping me off to the west coast to distance myself from the New York faction of the Marzano organization. I couldn’t say no because of all that they’ve done for me.

So, I left.

Now that I have Gemma in my life, and in my bed , I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her there.

“NO!” Gemma shouts from inside her apartment.

Damian follows me as I rush inside to see Gemma sitting on her loveseat with her knees pulled into her chest. There’s a bullet on the table beside the package that’s barely big enough to hold a deck of cards.

I kneel down to look at it, not wanting to put my prints on something that could be tied to a murder or any other crime.

“Someone knows what we did to Frankie. They saw me or heard me talking about those stupid bullet holes,” Gemma rambles.

I shake my head as I pick up the package since it’s clearly marked with actual postage. There’s no telling how many sets of prints are on it. There’s still something inside of it, and I shake it loose onto the coffee table.

A rose-gold cross on a broken rosary gleams in the sunlight streaming through her living room window blinds. Gemma’s eyes grow wide, letting her feet move back to the floor and inching closer to the rosary beads like it’s calling her.

“That’s impossible. Someone’s fucking with me,” Gemma says, shaking her head in disbelief.

“What’s impossible, Gemma?” I ask her. “Where is this from?”

“It’s mine. It’s the rosary beads that Mom gave me after I graduated, before they left for Sicily. The last time I wore them,” she pauses and touches her neck as if the memory is embedded in the soft skin under her trembling jaw. “The last time I wore them was the night I killed Steve.”

“WHAT?” Damian and I exclaim simultaneously.

“Who the fuck is Steve?” I ask her.

Damian storms into her kitchen, turns on the water and grabs a sponge. He starts rubbing aggressive circles along the countertop while shaking his head.

“I knew that asshole was trouble. Didn’t I tell you that he was a piece of shit?” Damian grinds out every word through clenching teeth.

“Shit, why is he cleaning now?” Natalie asks as she comes down to join us in Gemma’s living room.

“Because I told them about Steve,” Gemma replies.

“You are the worst person at keeping secrets,” Natalie huffs with a shake of her head.

“Who is Steve and why is he dead?” I ask the question again.

“The thing I ran from back in New York, Antonio. Steve used me to get close to my brothers. At least, he tried.” Gemma admits. “When Bash, Casper, and Damian decided to ignore him, Steve broke up with me and then broke into our house.”

Damian stops scrubbing to look up. “Wait a minute. That’s not what you told us. You said you came home, and someone broke in, but no one was there. What the fuck happened, Gem?”

“Steve broke in and I caught him. You gave me that 22 and I was forced to use it. I shot him in the face, and he ripped my rosary off my neck as he fell back. I thought he was dead and felt guilty that someone I’d brought into our lives broke into Mom and Dad’s house. Steve played the long game. We dated for an entire year before he mentioned anything about meeting my brothers.”

Natalie immediately sits next to her friend and throws an arm around Gemma, slowly rubbing her shoulder. Natalie tells us the rest. “I use large trunks for my instruments, and we moved his body. We dumped him in the river.”

“And you’re okay with this?” I ask Natalie.

She glares at me. “You don’t know my parents. I’ll forgive you for your ignorance, doc. I’m a Bersani, daughter of—you know what? It doesn’t matter. Gem and I have a thing where we don’t want to be in this shit anymore. We moved out here and look at us. Still in the middle of mob shit. Are you okay with this?”

“I’m confused because if Steve is dead, who the fuck sent the necklace? Are you sure Steve was dead?” I ask them.

They both nod.

Damian stops scrubbing the counter long enough to look up. “Did you weigh down the trunk?”

Gemma and Natalie look at each other and then at Damian. Natalie has the most innocent look in her eyes as she asks. “Doesn’t the body weigh it down?”

Damian pulls his phone out to make a call. “Bash, yeah, we need you here. Now.”