Page 15 of Vicious Redemption

It’s stifling, suffocating, and I can’t get past this horrible anxiety about not knowing if Leo might be out there right now hunting my father down.

Sitting on my bed, I try to find a sense of calm. But it eludes me. Instead, the only thing that seems to fill my mind’s eye is the fabricated image of Leo pointing a gun at my father’s head. And when I finally chase the horrible thought away, the vision of Leo’s lifeless eyes takes its place.

I can’t just wait here for him to come home. I’ll go crazy.

Rising from the bed, I start to pace, contemplating what I might do to fill my time. Then, my eyes wander to the French doors that lead out to our balcony.

Perhaps it’s time I try sneaking out. It’s odd, considering sneaking back into my parents’ house when most girls my age would be trying to sneak out. And the irony isn’t lost on me that sneaking out of my parents’ house is what started all this in the first place.

But I need to see for myself that my family’s alright, and what Leo doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

8

LEO

“He made it through the first night, which is a good sign,” Doctor Ellis confirms, his demeanor grave as we stand at the foot of my father’s hospital bed. “And the operation was a success. That makes me believe he has a decent chance of recovery, though he’s not out of the woods yet. He still hasn’t regained consciousness—likely because it takes a considerable amount of energy to endure surgery. These next few days will be a major determiner. If he remains stable and can start the healing process, he should survive.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I say, shaking his hand firmly.

He gives a single nod and departs, clipboard in hand, through the door to my father’s private room. It’s the best one in the hospital with staff to attend to my father, twenty-four, seven. I’ve posted a round-the-clock guard at his door, just to ensure no one tries to take advantage of his vulnerable state.

Settling into the chair beside my father’s bed, I study his face. I wouldn’t say we’re close in the deeply emotional sense. He never wasted energy on bonding moments or quality time. But my father raised me to be the successful man I am today. He showed me how to be strong, fearless, powerful. He showed me to take what is mine and have no mercy.

He isn’t without flaws, and we have certainly butted heads over my lifetime. But seeing him brought to such a helpless state fills me with a deep sense of rage. I want to crush the men responsible. I want to rip them limb from limb. The only thing giving me pause is Tia—and the fact that most of those men are currently in the custody of the Piovosa Police Force.

“They won’t get away with it,” I assure him, though I know he can’t hear me.

Placing my elbows on my knees, I interlace my fingers and rest my lips on my knuckles. How will I proceed with the situation now that I’ll have Mayor Romney breathing down my back? It was a clever move and a dangerous gamble, putting his men at my mercy so Don Guerra could make me out to be the bad guy.

He’s a snake, sneaky and deceptive, willing to shake with one hand while the other poisons my wine, and I can’t just let him live. But I can’t kill him outright either without putting myself under further scrutiny. And I have no doubt he intends to make any of our interactions public from this point on.

The door opens behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to find Johnny and Rasco entering the room.

“Good. You’re here,” I state, rising. I’ve spent enough time with my father. Now, I need to keep the business running while he’s hospital-bound.

“What’s the word?” Johnny asks.

“I’ve called a meeting. All the dons who have sworn allegiance to me will be at the club in an hour. Any who don’t show will be branded traitors.” And they better take my call seriously because I’m in no mood to fuck around.

If they’re surprised, neither of my captains shows it as they follow me into the hall. I give my father’s guards, Levi and Cane, a nod before departing.

“And Don Moretti?” Rasco asks from his place just behind my left shoulder.

“The Guerras better fucking hope he survives,” is all I say.

Neither of my captains speaks as we exit the hospital, and we part ways as they jump in their car to follow me downtown.

I head straight to Club Divino, paying little heed to the traffic lights or speed limits as I wind through the narrow city streets. The gentleman’s club, where I often hold meetings, sits right at the heart of downtown. The impressive building that has belonged to my family for generations holds its own in the entertainment district.

“Detective Matthews is here to see you,” Anita, the manager at Club Divino, says as soon as I walk through the front door. Her high-heeled steps are sharp, her shoulders stiff with unspoken tension.

“Very well,” I state, leading Rasco and Johnny toward the elevator. “Send him to my office.”

“Right away,” Anita confirms, splitting off from us.

With half of Piovosa’s police force watching my every move, I need to make sure Matthews is ready to handle his role. He’s been my go-to officer for the last few years when I need someone to tidy up on the legal end, and in exchange, he gets a big, fat bonus on top of his detective’s salary.

It won’t hurt to have him poking around, looking like he’s investigating me. That will only keep his cover and open doors when he needs to get to scenes I’m sure I’ll be leaving around town shortly. It’s a far riskier cleanup plan than if I could have put my men on the task force investigating the crime scene, but it will have to do.

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