Page 58 of His Vow
“What are you doing here?” I ask, but I’m secretly pleased to see my youngest brother. Having the shit beaten out of me before being left in the street certainly rattled my perspective on what’s important. Luce can’t be here fast enough.
Nico walks toward my bed and places a hand on my arm. “I came to see how messed up you are. How are you feeling?” His brow furrows with concern. “Leo wanted to come, too, but he couldn’t leave the restaurant. Though he did offer to do some sessions with you in the gym, since you look like you need a refresher in defense.” Leo is the martial arts expert in the family and has taught us all some moves over the years.
I roll my eyes—one of the few movements that doesn’t hurt. “There were three of them,” I grumble.
Nico looks to Gio and turns serious. “Do you know who the fuckers were?”
“Possibly Mafia,” Gio replies for me.
“Fuck, that’s serious shit. They don’t like people messing about with their operations.”
“Yep, got that message loud and clear,” I mumble.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” he says, and we both turn to glare at him. If our family has a black sheep, it’s Nico.
Gio’s brow creases. “I don’t think I want to know how you can do that.”
Nico glances down at me from where he still stands beside the bed, then back up at Gio. “And if I told you, I’d probably have to kill you.” He says it in all seriousness, but when he catches Gio’sexpression, he cracks a smile and adds, “I’m joking. Seriously, what shit do you two think I’m into?” Laughing, he drops into the nearby chair.
“Nico, anything you can find out would be helpful,” I choke out past the lump clogging my throat. And it’s at that point I remember the whole purpose of the meeting.
“Do you have my cell?” I ask Gio, hoping my beating wasn’t for nothing. He pulls it from his pocket, and I continue. “Sal transferred the file to me, and I emailed it to myself before leaving the bar.”
Gio brings the cell over to me, and I swipe my thumb across the screen. It only takes him another moment to find the email, and his head bends low as he scrolls through what I expect is the attachment.
“Fuck. We’ve got it. This is the proof we needed.” He looks up, smiling.
A sigh whooshes from my lungs, and my chest hurts like there’s a slab of concrete sitting on it. I’m guessing I’ve got a few cracked ribs, given how hard it is to breathe. The bastards landed a couple of heavy boots into them when I hit the ground.
“What the fuck?” Gio exclaims, and I swivel my head on the pillow to face him. His tanned face drained of color.
“What?”
“There’s a message from an unknown number.Stop now or your wife will be next,” he reads, and I’m pushing myself up in the bed, ignoring the pain shooting through my body.
Gio is instantly at my side with a hand on my shoulder. “Calm down, or you’re going to make your injuries worse,” he warns before adding, “Remember, she’s safe on our jet, and the car will be waiting to bring her directly here.”
“But then what? She needs protection, because I can’t do it.” My throat tightens with fear. “G, you have to keep her and mybaby safe.” I’m barely able to extract the plea past the lump in my throat.
His eyes widen. “She’s pregnant?”
“Fuck,” Nico mutters from my other side.
I nod, then blink my eyes against the tears welling in them. The thought of Lucia being hurt is more painful than any of the cuts and bruises on my battered body. I’d take so much more to keep her safe. If anything happened to Lucia, I wouldn’t survive.
Where his hand still rests on my shoulder, he gives it a squeeze. “Ant, I can get her bodyguards to protect her, but I need to return to Florence to end all of this.” He swallows deeply before continuing. “I know you’re not going to like this, but I think she’d be safer under her father’s protection. Especially now that she’s carrying his first grandchild.”
“I know,” I reluctantly agree, the pain of failure so sharp that my eyes close briefly. “Luce will hate that. She’ll hate me for doing that.”
“But she’d be safe.”
Though it hurts to admit it, I know he’s right.
“There’s no chance he’s part of this, is there?” I ask, and his eyes widen. Right now, my brothers and Lucia are the only people who I feel I can trust fully.
“I’m sure he’s not involved.” He returns to stand by the window. “All Franco Romano has ever wanted was his daughter to marry into a traditional Italian bloodline. Prestige and power were his only motives. It was never about money. He had plenty of his own.”
I don’t know how he knows this, but I’m confident he’s right. “Well, he got what he wanted, then, just not who.” The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
