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ChapterTwenty
What the hell is Nelu doing, bringing Cristo to the hospital? That was the pressing thought at the forefront of my mind as I raced across the Queensboro Bridge toward the scene. Mafie never went to the hospital unless it was a life-or-death situation, and even then, it wasn’t common. Hospital visits brought police attention, and that could lead to questions directed toward Nelu and his business. Which was now also my business. It’s not like we were invisible to the police, which is why everyone had a hand in bribing them, but that didn’t mean you waved a red flag in front of a bull.
Nicu was waiting for me near the front desk of the hospital. He briefed me on Cristo’s condition in the elevator. The fucker had come in unconscious, but he’d be fine. Nicu told me his face was fucked up, but other than that, he only had a few bruised ribs. Really, Nelu? You brought him here for busted ribs?
I stepped into the sterile private waiting room, where one corner was filled to capacity with Cristo’s family and soldiers. Seeing me, Nelu rose from his seat and charged at me with hands curled into fists at his sides. “How dare you come here? My son, my heir is in a hospital bed because you have no control over your people,” he spat out.
He pulled a gun out of his jacket and placed it beneath the curve of my jaw. Staying Nicu with my hand, I allowed the little show of force. Breathing calmly, I stood still and waited until he grunted in exasperation, digging the muzzle in deeper before shoving it off me.
“You don’t pull a gun on the Lupul,” Nicu snarled from behind me, but I cut him off with a slashing motion of my hand.
Nelu glared at Nicu and fired back, “Then don’t fucking put my only son in the hospital.”
“Why’d you bring him in, Nelu?” I asked in a cool, detached tone. Every cell in my body shrieked at me to pummel this bastard to the ground, but I had to remain levelheaded. Maintaining my unflappable mask was an absolute necessity, especially with Nelu losing his shit.
“That little bitch is going to suffer for what she did. Cristo is going to tell the police everything, and she’s going to be locked up,” he threatened. Ah, that was his reason for bringing Cristo to the hospital. Counting on the police to show up, he could take revenge on Una, and possibly me.
I rolled my eyes. “Christ, you’re acting like an idiot. First off, Una didn’t do anything, so I’m not sure what you’re punishing her for.”
“No, it was Stegan,” he sneered. “Your man.”
“Exactly.”
“But that bitch is going to pay,” he promised darkly. “And if Stegan’s name comes out, so be it. He can join her in jail.”
“How do you see that happening, Nelu? It was a domestic incident. Cristo beat her till she lost the baby. Under New York State family law, both actors are considered perps. The police are required by law to arrest them both. Cristo will be behind bars as soon as he’s deemed fit enough to get out of bed. Is that what you want?”
Being prelaw at Columbia University came in handy for moments such as these. Nelu’s head snapped up, his eyes burning into me.
“I suggest you go into Cristo’s room and tell him not to say a thing. Knowing him, he’ll end up incriminating himself. He’s not clever enough to deal with the police, even with an attorney at hand,” I counseled smoothly.
Nelu caught the eye of one of his captains and jerked his head toward the exit, telling him to do what I said.
“You owe me,” he grumbled, his voice scratchy with anger.
Gesturing to the far corner of the large waiting room, I walked in that direction, knowing Nelu had no choice but to follow me. If we were going to going to negotiate now, then I wanted as much privacy as possible.
Once I reached the corner, I pulled up two chairs, took a seat, and invited him to take the one facing me. After a moment of hesitation, Nelu collapsed into the chair. I noticed the deep grooves stamped into his forehead. He looked tired. For the first time, he looked old and tired. This life of ours didn’t go easy on a man. He was about the same age as my father was when he died, but I reminded myself that the similarities ended there. The man was a conniving snake who’d slit his own brother’s throat if it gave him an edge.
“What happened exactly?” he started. “I couldn’t get the whole story from Cristo. He sustained a nasty hit on the head. The doctor said it was a concussion and made me back off.”
“From what I’ve gathered, he beat up Una. Kicked her in the stomach until she miscarried.” I paused for a beat before continuing, “Your grandchild. A boy, I believe.” There was probably little chance that she was far along enough to know the sex of her child, but I banked on Nelu not knowing that fact.
His eyes hardened; the silver-gray turned to steel. “Fuck.”
“My man came in and stopped him from killing her. Had to shoot your bodyguard to get to her. He did Cristo a favor. Your son could have a manslaughter charge hanging over his head right now.”
“Don’t fucking think you’re getting a thanks from me,” he snarled. “Even assuming anyone found the body, I would’ve gotten Cristo off.”
I gave a nonchalant shrug. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. My man would’ve been a witness. Then it would’ve been my decision whether he stayed quiet or not. Besides paying off the police, the judge, and the jury, you would’ve been indebted to me for eternity, so, yeah, I’m pretty sure I did you a favor.”
“Your father was always soft when it came to women. Seems that weak trait has carried down to you and your men.”
Mention of my father had my hands balling into fists, but I wasn’t about to fall for his little taunt.
“Fuck, Nelu, don’t say things to make me hate you more than I already do. I get that Cristo wanted her to have an abortion, and for whatever reason, she hadn’t gone through with it yet. But to kill her unborn baby with his own fists? Thank fuck my sister ran away.”
“He would’ve never touched your sister,” he hurled out.
