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It only made me cry harder.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Vincent
The steady beeping of the machines monitoring my heart rate punctuated my brother’s pacing. Tony had flown in from Italy to be here. He’d been planning to come with the family after the fact, to ‘stage’ the transfer of power.
But when I’d really been hurt, he had come by himself.
I was fucking high as a kite on pain meds, but not nearly enough to make me stop worrying about Francesca. Meanwhile, everyone else was furious that I had refused to go to the actual hospital. Instead, I was here, at my brother’s home in the hills, where there weren’t quite as many eyeballs to see the medical equipment being unloaded from unmarked delivery trucks or the limited number of medical personnel coming and going.
“How is she? Any word?”
“I swear to fucking God,” Tony started before shaking his head. He sighed and composed himself. “You nearly fucking died.”
“I know.”
“A little too convincing, Cuz,” he said with a glare at our cousin Michael. Our consigliore shrugged, also shaking his head. Apparently, that was the only reaction I was going to get from either of them. Anger or resigned bemusement. Michael had clearly given up on me.
“I’ll check.”
“Do that,” I said with an authoritative look as I tried to sit up. The effect was ruined by a wince of pain. It hurt like hell. It had been twenty-four hours already and I was just waking up. Of course, my first thought was of her.
I was furious that no one had woken me earlier so I could worry about her. I knew rationally that they would never do that. Not unless something had happened to her. Maybe not even then.
I needed them to understand that without her being safe, nothing else mattered. Not even me.
“Kid is there. Just arrived,” he said.
“Thank God.”
“Her ex is there too.”
“Fuck. How long?”
“What?”
“How long has he been inside?” I hissed. “I don’t want him alone with her.”
“I bet you don’t. But there’s nothing you can do about it at the moment.”
“Yes, I fucking can,” I said, trying to stand. Tony cursed and pushed me back down again.
“Goddammit, big brother!”
I knew he was upset when he used that term. He never liked being called younger. He was far too proud to admit that I had even a couple of years on him.
Michael laughed and shook his head.
“You are such an asshole. You’re going to pull out your stitches.”
“I don’t fucking care!”
“I’ll go!” Tony huffed out. “Just stop struggling, you fucker.”
“You’ll go?”
“Yes. It will look good if I go.”
“How so?” I asked as I let my body relax. He finally eased up and stood back from the hospital style bed, still glaring at me.
“It will look like a gesture.”
“Yes, the wrong gesture. As head of the family, would you really be hauling your ass around?” Michael said pointedly. “I should be the one to go. But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
His phone beeped, and he looked at it.
“He’s gone, anyway.”
“Gone? Is she all right?”
“You know we don’t have eyes inside. But yes, he just left.”
“So he wasn’t there long enough to . . .”
“Long enough to what, big brother?”
I scowled. I had imagined him hurting her. Or making her do something. Forcing her . . .
She was a beautiful woman, and he was a monster. But he wasn’t blind. He was obsessed with her. He wanted her. It was impossible that he didn’t.
No man alive would not want her. I glared at them both and then shut my eyes. I had visions of her in my head.
“She knows I’ll come for her. We just need to finish him off.”
“Are you sure she knows?” Michael said with a whistle. “I just got this.”
He held up his phone so I could see, and I snatched it out of his hands. It was a photo, sent by one of Cain’s guys who were still watching her house.
It was a picture of my beautiful 'Cesca sitting in her window seat and staring out toward the bay. Her eyes were dark with emotions. And she held one of my flowers. A second later, another picture came through. Her daughter had joined her.
The two beauties held each other tightly, both of their eyes closed. I could see the tension had left my love. The tension, but not the sadness.
But it wasn’t just this that made my heart skip a beat.
It was what she wore. My gorgeous woman who always dressed to the nines, the woman who always wore white.
Today, Francesca was wearing black.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Francesca
“I read that one already, Mama. Don’t be mad.”
“Of course I’m not mad! I want you to read as much as you want to, my little orange blossom.”
She nodded and smiled, waiting for me to get another book. But I was moving slowly today. Every second felt like an hour, time that I could not escape from.
