Page 64 of Consequences
“Still, my mother raised me better.” Gesturing to Sarah, I say, “This is Dr. Sarah Ranlen.”
“Ah, yes,” Dowing replies. “I recognize her name from a few other events. I hear you’re an accomplished doctor yourself.”
Sarah gives him a bland smile. “I do my best, which is all any of us can do.”
I introduce Daddy next. “And this is Soren Knightly, my partner.”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Dowing says. “I’m sure taking time out of your busy schedules to attend something so…pompous was a difficult choice to make. Especially as, from what I understand, you’ve been busier than normal lately, Ashby.”
I tilt my head. “I wouldn’t say that. There’s always something to do at the clinic, but I make sure there’s time for fun events like this as well. Giving back is important.”
Dowing smiles that slimy politician’s smile everyone in government seems to have. “Yes, but your mother was saying you’re also the personal doctor to Cristian Amato. And well…I get the newspaper. From my understanding, they’ve run into a string of bad luck.”
Sarah’s hand in mine tightens. It takes every ounce of training my mother ever gave me—both intentional and not—to keep my true reaction under lockdown. “Don’t believe everything you see in the news,” I respond mildly. “I’m surethe paper prints things about you that are less than factual, Senator.”
“True, true,” he says. He goes to speak again, but James cuts in, breaking our circle of conversation and earning himself a dirty look from the senator and my mother.
“Apologies,” my best friend says. “But we need to be on our way, something has come up.”
“Really?” Mother huffs. “Isn’t there anyone else Mr. Amato can call? He has to know how important these events are.”
“Mother, please. He wouldn’t interrupt unless he had no choice. You know better.”
She grumbles, but lets me press a chaste kiss to her cheek anyway. “I expect to see you for lunch soon, Ashby.”
“Yes, Mother.”
I shake both my father’s and the senator’s hand. “I do apologize.”
“I’m sure we’ll see each other soon, Ashby,” the senator says, with a smile that is…far too cheerful to be real. “And you, Sarah.”
James places his hand on Sarah’s other arm, and gently but quickly urges us away from the group. I follow along behind him, concern and dread filling me as we make our way outside. My best friend wouldn’t ever interrupt, especially not so blatantly, unless something catastrophic occurred. The thought sends a wave of terror through me.
Outside the event room, I dare to ask, “What’s going on?”
The Martelli guard and James share a look before my best friend’s somber brown eyes meet mine. “The Amatos are… They’ll need you both.”
Fuck.
Istruggle not to fight against the bindings, as every inch of me wants to rush over to Benjamin. I can hear him sobbing, and all I want is to reassure him that it’s alright.Fuck. I know Il Padrone is sadistic, but this is too far. My Little Mouse doesn’t deserve this.
His fucking rules means I can’t even speak. I can’t reassure Benjamin. And fuck if this isn’t even more effective than any instrument he could take to my skin. Benjamin’s pain tears at me in a way that drives me crazy. To compare him to Jax? Never.
Eventually, Il Padrone comes back into view with Lio. He has his Boy snuggled tightly to him, murmuring words I can’t hear, but are likely reassurance and love. Anger rolls over me, because while Lio deserves comfort, so does my Little Mouse. Yet, I’m forced to remain quiet and still, waiting for whatever fresh hell Il Padrone brings to the table.
After tucking Lio into the bed in the playroom, Il Padrone finally heads toward me, stopping right in front of me. He grasps my chin and forces me to look him in the eye. From the way he shakes his head in disappointment, I know this isn’t going to be a good time.
“Ignacio. After everything we’ve been through, you thought it would be wise to touch the Amato heir? Without permission?”
I don’t bother responding, there’s no justification, and he hasn’t given me permission to speak.
“Yet…my biggest concern is: why didn’t you come to me? Why, when things were crumbling, did you not speak with me about what was going on in your relationship? You may speak.”
“I have no excuse, Padrone. I can only say that neither Benjamin nor I wanted to admit what was going on.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “You should know better by now. Especially since I am Il Padrone. I saw it. I waited for you. Instead, both of you tore yourselves—and each other—apart. And now we are here, where both of your loyalties are in question. Are you Martellis? Or are you Amatos…?”
At his gesture, I answer quickly. “I am a Martelli. Always.”
