20. Evelyn

"What the fuck is happening? I'm tired of being shot at," I shout at Alessandro as we take cover between two cars in front of the hospital. "This is the second fucking time today I've been in the line of fire."

Alessandro's eyes widen as he glares at me. "What do you mean, the second time today?"

"Can we talk about that later? After we get out of this fire fight? Where are the shots coming from?"

Police sirens wail as a dozen officers show up at the bottom of Atlantic Avenue to seal off the area. The hospital goes into lockdown, which means Jenkins won't be moving any time soon, and we're still crouching next to a minivan.

"Stay down," Alessandro says, popping his head up for a second before duckwalking into the street just in time for a car to slam to a halt in front of us. The door swings open as Lorenzo waves us into the car.

Bullets deflect off the car, thankfully, as Alessandro practically yanks me off my feet to shove me into the back seat. He hurries inside, slamming the door behind us, and Lorenzo peels off as bystanders continue to scatter. The police swarm to finish sealing off the area just as we turn down a one-way street.

Instead of driving directly to Alessandro's home, Lorenzo pulls the car into a parking garage a few blocks away. When he gets out of the car, he scans our surroundings before giving us the signal to get out of the car.

"Ren, get rid of that car and meet me at the house. No way in or out, capiche?" Alessandro says, taking me by the hand.

"Got it, Less." Lorenzo trots through the parking lot to another car.

"Where's he going?" I ask him, wondering if we're going to need the extra hands.

"He's gotta get rid of the guns in the trunk before NYPD comes around looking for it. The cops aren't going to press us too much since we were the ones being shot at, and I didn't shoot back. How are you feeling?" He stops walking to look at me, turning me from side to side to make sure I'm not hit.

I stop him, holding his face in my hands. "I'm fine."

We get to the dry cleaner building without running into many people on the street. It makes me appreciate how quiet some streets can be in the hustle and bustle of New York City. One code, a hidden panel, another code, a steel door, a trek through a long tunnel to another steel door that needs another code, and suddenly, here we are.

The playroom where I woke up this morning to this shit show of a Monday. We head straight for the kitchen. I start pulling out food, and Alessandro heads to his office to get his favorite bottle of Scotch. Three tumblers are set out as I heat up leftovers and wonder what can possibly happen next.

Lorenzo coming down the stairs is the last thing I expect to see. He smirks as he takes one of the glasses, swigging the amber liquid down while pulling a plate of food in front of him.

"He came in through the roof access," Alessandro volunteers. "So, you want to tell me exactly what happened today?"

After giving them my itinerary, from visiting Shana, who was attacked, to Peter showing up at my folks' place with a gun and threatening to kidnap his kids, fury is pluming from Alessandro. "You think Peter has people your father forgot about?" he asks.

I shake my head. "One thing about my dad is he's thorough. That's one of the things the Dons of La Familia have in common. When they want someone dead, they die. Peter's too busy getting his knees broken to send someone after me."

"What about Montegna?" Lorenzo asks.

Scotch is becoming a treasured flavor in my mouth, easing my stress with the warmth of the potent alcohol settling in my stomach.

Alessandro disagrees. "No, this isn't him. It's like Evelyn said, the Dons don't miss. Besides, he wants to use me as a bridge between the De Luca Family and the Montegna. I don't think he wants my services as a lawyer. He just needs me to be an ally. This is something different. Something else is at play here. Suit up, Ren, and get my clean-up crew on standby. We're going out to get some answers."

"What can I do?" I ask him. Alessandro grabs his plate to load it in the dishwasher before hooking a finger under my chin. A soft kiss between us slows my pulse as if my body knows before I do. I'm safe in his arms.

"Stay put, please. No one knows you're back in here. I need you safe while we work this thing out. Get some rest, too. From the way Jenkins looked, you're going to feel that accident over the next few days, maybe beyond. I'll check in on you and get you whatever you need."

"Okay, Alessandro."

"Good girl." He kisses me one more time as Lorenzo comes downstairs with a large black duffle bag.

Over the next three weeks, Alessandro comes and goes at all hours of the day and night. My body aches from every side possible, and every couple of days or so, Lorenzo is burning things in the backyard. My dad ends up sending my mother and the kids away for a few weeks while Shana is able to stay in solitary confinement until she heals.

According to the news, the hospital shooting was a result of "gang" crossfire, but no suspects are in custody. The police did talk to us, but after seeing the condition I'm in, they decide to leave us alone as victims, despite Alessandro's ties to the Mafia.

On the twenty-fifth day after being slammed into a concrete divider, my body finally feels normal. The aches are sparing me. I want to see my husband. Healed or not, I use the elevator to go downstairs and knock on his office door.

"Come in." His voice is powerful, stern, and less than welcome. The furrow across his thick eyebrows softens when he sees me step through the door. "Mio dolce. Feeling like yourself?"

"Yes. I'm thinking of homemade pizza." I begin talking to him, but something catches my eye on the shelf behind him. "What if it's one of your clients?"

"Huh?" He turns around to see what I'm looking at, but it's nothing in particular.

"You're a lawyer, right? Fixing a bunch of rich people's problems. What if one of the problems you fixed has an axe to grind?" I ask him.

"The only person I'm working with right now is Dimitri Vassa. His case is all but wrapped up. Still, it's not a bad idea to look into it. He actually invited us—well, you—to come to a dungeon night."

"What happens at a dungeon night? I'm not into sharing, Alessandro. No orgies or anything freaky like that."

He chuckles, pushing himself away from his desk to come around it, facing me. "Don't kink shame, mio dolce. Aren't you the same woman who gets turned on by the tip of a blade running down her body?"

Goosebumps burst in a trail that follows his finger down the side of my ribs, sending shockwaves of lust and anticipation to my center.

"I'm open to just about anything except for sharing, and I'm sure you feel the same way. Right? You don't want to picture another man?—"

"Don't." He silences me with a finger to my lips, reminding me of our wedding day. "I've been the Butcher of Howard Beach, and I don't want to chase imaginary men who've touched you."

"Have you found everyone you were looking for?" I ask him.

"Some questions have been answered, but I haven't pursued your angle yet. Let's go to Kings and have some fun. I can ask Dimitri about a few things, but mostly, you can let your hair down and get a glimpse into another side of me."

The way my nerves tingle as he pulls me in close, nuzzling against my neck, has my mind imagining a myriad of ways for my husband to enjoy me, devour me, release a side of me too scared to be seen by the light of day.