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“Emilia, this is Dr. Marino,” I tell her. “He’s been with our family since before I was born. You can trust him.”
Emilia nods. I carefully set her down on the sofa and step out of the way so Dr. Marino can check her over. Since it won’t be an intimate examination, I don’t ask everyone to vacate the room. I watch for a moment to make sure Emilia isn’t uncomfortable, then go to speak with my brothers and Piotr who’s joined them in their huddle.
“How are you here?” I ask my youngest brother. Since he’s wearing jeans and a button-down shirt, he obviously didn’t show up late for the fundraiser.
“I got a 911 from Tony. I came straight over. Met Doc Marino on the way up.”
“Surprised you showed at all.” Leo is the least forgiving of us when it comes to Gio’s increasingly frequent absences.
“He’s here now.” Antonio puts a stop to any bickering before it can begin. “So, what do we know?”
“The woman and Enzo were acting on Carlo Bianchi’s orders.” Leo’s mouth twists in distaste as he mentions the head of a rival family. The man has one foot in the grave and the other hoveringdangerously close to the edge, but he’s still a thorn in our side. “Enzo is supposed to hand Emilia over to Conti at Zita’s.”
“Zita’s?” From the looks on my brothers’ faces, it doesn’t look like any of us has heard of the place.
“It’s a strip club,” Piotr says, “owned by Grigor Balogh. He named it after his mother.”
That tells us everything we need to know about the type of man we’re dealing with. What sort of sleazebag names a strip club after his mother?
“Is he Russian?” Antonio asks.
Piotr shakes his head. “Hungarian.”
“Is he affiliated with the Bianchis?”
“No, he’s strictly freelance. His loyalty goes to the highest bidder.” Piotr’s mouth twists in disapproval. Something the Reznovs have in common with our family is the belief that loyalty is not a commodity to buy and sell. “I have been waiting for an opportunity to strike at him.”
“You’re coming with us?” Antonio checks.
Piotr nods. “They breached my uncle’s territory tonight when respectable businessmen and politicians were under our roof. I want every man responsible to pay for what happened to your sister and Alessandro’s wife.”
“Very well.” Antonio’s agreement comes quickly, but he injects just enough indifference into his words to avoid sounding desperate. He turns to me. “What about your wife?”
Someone will have to take Emilia home and make sure she’s okay. Knowing my youngest brother will want no part in thecoming bloodshed, I offer him a way out that means he won’t lose face. “Gio can take her home. He’s the only one I trust to make her feel safe.”
For a moment, Antonio looks as if he might argue. He’s been patient, letting Gio do his own thing for a while now, but I know he’s looking for ways to pull him closer to the family business.
“Yeah, good idea. He’ll take care of her.”
Gio nods in acknowledgement of the plan, silently conveying his gratitude in the way he meets my eyes and holds my gaze for a couple of beats. Now that it’s settled, I turn and walk back to where Dr. Marino is finishing up with Emilia.
“There’s nothing broken as far as I can tell but if you want to get a scan to be sure, you’ll need to go to the hospital.”
Emilia shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.”
Though I appreciate her being brave, I need to make sure she’s not hurting.
“Can you give her anything stronger for the pain?”
Marino shakes his head. “You know I don’t like to prescribe meds unless necessary. Icepacks, Advil, and some rest will take care of it.”
I’m not convinced, but Emilia reaches for my hand and squeezes tightly, letting me know not to push the point.
“Thank you, Dr. Marino,” she says politely. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Hopefully, the next time will be under better circumstances,” he replies, though he knows full well we never meet unlesssomeone needs medical attention. Excusing himself, he gets up and leaves.
Pulling Emilia to her feet, I wrap an arm around her back and press a kiss to her forehead. “Gio is going to take you home.”
