Will Thompson turned out to be a man with bitch-like tendencies and Tracy nearly told him so earlier that day. It was during a meeting with execs from Whole Foods. Tracy was pitching her marketing strategy to Walter Mackey, the company’s co-CEO. She attempted to hand the meeting off to Will, who was the head of their financial and accounting division and responsible for running the numbers, making sure that the financials added up. But when she turned to Will, all she got was a childish smirk. He claimed that there had been a miscommunication on the part of their assistants. He went on to say that he was given the wrong campaign to assess. Tracy looked over at her PA, Kim. Kim shook her head and mouthed the words, “bullshit.”
Tracy was forced to improvise, basically pulling shit out of the air in order to survive the rest of the meeting. Luckily, Mackey agreed to another meeting at the Whole Food’s headquarters in Kentucky.
After the meeting, Will fled the conference room before Tracy could address his unprofessional behavior. She’d even gone to his office to confront him, but he had already left the building. It was probably a good thing that she had missed him because as angry as she had been, she would have surely made a scene. She tried calling him after leaving work, but her calls went unanswered. Will had gotten on her last nerve. Tracy closed her eyes and decided to deal with work issues when she was at work.
Tracy jumped at the sound of someone banging on her door. Through blurred vision, she looked over at her clock. It was one AM. She had dozed off.
“Who in the hell?” Tracy grumbled when the banging continued.
Still disoriented, she jumped out of bed and hit her knee on the bed’s poster. After grumbling expletives, she grabbed her robe from behind her bedroom door. She stumbled into the hall, rubbing the wall in search of the light switch. She turned on the light and slipped into her robe. She was thinking that someone had better be either dead or dying for them to have a good enough reason for banging on her door at one in the morning.
Tracy stood in front of the door and screamed, “Who is it?!”
“It’s Will! Open the door!”
Will?
Tracy unlocked the door and snatched it open. “What the fuck are you doing at my house at one o'clock in the morning?!”
“Why not hang out late? I got nowhere to be in the morning,” he slurred.
Tracy tightened the sash on her robe. “Will, what are you talking about? Are you drunk?”
“Yeah, bitch, I’m drunk. And don't try to act like you don't know what the fuck I’m talking about. You put that motherfucker, Mackey, up to reporting me to Leeman. I got fired because of you!”
Tracy was shocked by Will’s accusation. She hadn't said a word to anyone about the bullshit that Will had pulled. She would never have ratted him out, but she certainly wasn't going to try to explain that to him in his condition. She decided to simply end the conversation.
“It wasn't me,” she told him as she attempted to close the door.
Will shoved the door with enough force to push Tracy backward. Before Tracy could recover, she was punched in the face. Her vision blurred as she fell to the floor. Tracy had never been punched before, and the pain was enough to make her fold.
She immediately thought of Victoria fighting for her life in a filthy fighting pit. Her best friend had endured so much worse. She’d even lost a child as a result. Tracy then thought of the baby that she was carrying. So when Will approached to inflict more punishment for something that she hadn't done, Tracy kicked him as hard as she could between his legs. Unfortunately, she missed her mark and connected with his thigh. Thankfully, it was enough to slow him down, giving Tracy time to scramble to her feet and run toward her bedroom. Her plan was to lock herself inside and grab the small 380 that Jack insisted she have.
Tracy was no Victoria. She wasn't a skilled fighter nor was she a sharpshooter like Natasha. She needed to barricade herself in her bedroom and call the police. Sadly, she didn't make it to her room before she was yanked by her hair and pulled back.
“You're a fucking tease. A grade A cunt,” he hissed into her ear. “I bet that fiancé of yours didn't get murdered. He probably put a bullet in his own head just to get away from you.”
“Will, I didn't get you fired. Please, let me go,” Tracy implored.
Tracy could feel the warmth of her tears as they rolled down her cheeks.
“Lying whore!” he spat. “First you sic that fucking Italian gorilla on me. Then you fuck me over at work. Well, now I’m about to fuck you over, bitch!”
Will slammed Tracy’s head against the wall. The sound of his maniacal laughter began to fade as she fell to the floor. She fought to stay conscious. Will straddled her and ripped her robe open. When he tore her panties off, Tracy began to hyperventilate.
Will wrapped his fingers around Tracy’s throat, cutting off her air supply. With his other hand, he undid his pants. Tracy gulped like a fish out of water. Will forced her legs apart and positioned himself between her thighs. She was about to be raped.
“No, Will. Please...” Tracy begged.
But Tracy’s tearful plea went unheard. Will was working on finding her opening. Tracy looked into his eyes. They were void of humanity and radiating pure evil. She reached up and dug her thumbs into his eyes.
Will growled like an animal, but Tracy didn't let up. She wanted to snatch his eyes right out of his head. He struggled with her wrists, but Tracy dug deeper. Will finally gave up on her wrists, grabbed her throat, and squeezed. It felt as if he was crushing her windpipe.
“Bitch, I’m either gonna fuck you alive, or I’m gonna fuck your dead body,” he gritted between his teeth.
Because Tracy couldn't breathe, her arms went limp and fell to the floor. Her body went still. Tracy could feel herself fading away. Fear and sadness washed over her because she realized that she was about to die.
CHAPTER 10
FRANCIS
Francis glanced at his watch. It was late, and he knew that Tracy wasn't going to be happy to see him, especially since she didn't even want to see him at a reasonable hour of the day. The woman had been avoiding him for months. Had she not screamed his name more than once, the one time he’d been inside her, and had he not seen the evidence of her eruption coating his cock, he would have assumed that he had not pleased her.
Francis thought of Tracy every single day, but he had no intention of forcing himself on her. But the days of him keeping his distance was over. Luca told him that she was carrying his child and she was weighing her options. What fucking options did she have? To kill his bambino? That was no option. Regardless of the time, he would have words with her. The discussion couldn’t wait. He’d be leaving for Belfast in a matter of hours, and he didn't trust that Tracy wouldn’t make the horrible decision to end her pregnancy before he returned.
Paolo pulled in front of Tracy’s house. Francis got out. He wanted to tell Paolo to stay in the automobile, but he knew that he wouldn't. Paolo, handpicked by Luca, was Francis’ enforcer/bodyguard, and he took his job very seriously. Of course, he could give the order, but it wasn't wise to discourage a man from doing a job that he was paid to do. So Francis said nothing as he headed up the walkway to Tracy’s porch. When he climbed the stairs, he noticed that Tracy’s front door was open. But it was Tracy’s scream that caused him to panic.
Francis rushed into her living room and looked around. Since he’d never been inside of Tracy’s house, he wasn't familiar with the layout, so he listened. A loud bang had Francis running down a hallway. What he saw sent him into a murderous rage. Tracy was being attacked. A man was on top of her with his hands around her throat. Francis saw red as he wrapped an arm around her attacker’s neck and squeezed as a snake would its prey. The man released Tammy’s neck and clawed at Francis’ arms. Paolo moved forward to assist.
“No!” Francis shouted. “Portarla fuori di Oui!”
Paolo did as commanded. He maneuvered around Francis, secured Tracy’s robe, and carried her outside.
Francis removed his arm from the attacker’s neck and slammed him against the wall. When he saw his face, Francis recognized him immediately. It was the pussy that he’d sent away.
“You would allow a man to shoo you away as if you were a fly, but you would attack a defenseless woman?” Francis seethed.
As Francis assessed the injuries to the man’s eyes, he realized that Tracy wasn't all that defenseless. But Francis thought about the blood and bruises on Tracy’s face, and he couldn't contain his fury. He punched the man with such force that his head bounced off of the wall. When he fell to the floor, Francis straddled him and punched him over and over again, stopping only when fatigue set in.
Francis stood, ignoring the man as he uselessly pled for his life. He walked around until he found Tracy’s kitchen. He grabbed a water glass from her cabinet, broke it against the refrigerator, and returned to the hall. The would-be rapist was on all fours, attempting to crawl to safety. But, from Francis, there was no safety. He kicked him in his ass, forcing him to fall on his face. Francis stood over the man and stomped him in the back of the head until he ceased to move. Since his pants were already undone, Francis yanked them down further. He got down on his knees and, using his forearm, he pinned him to the floor.
“Since you're good with rape, I’m going to give it to you how you like it,” Francis whispered near his ear before shoving the broken glass up Will’s ass.
The man squealed like a pig and cried like a woman. His body began to convulse, and Francis could tell that he was close to passing out. But he had not suffered enough for what he had done to his woman. Francis pulled the bloody glass from his ass only to shove it back in. He was sure the man’s screams could be heard outside. Thankfully, it was late. Most should have been asleep. Francis stood over the crying, bloody, mess of a man, pulled out his weapon, and ended his existence.
After holstering his weapon, Francis stared down at the dead, wondering if he was the reason that he’d snapped. Had the coward taken out his anger at him on his woman? He walked into the kitchen, grabbed the dish detergent, and washed his bloody hands. He dried them with a dishtowel and tossed it on the counter. He dug his phone out of his pocket. It was Luca that he called.
“Francis?”
Luca’s voice was breathless. Maybe Francis had interrupted their lovemaking.
“Si. I need to speak with Tammy.”
“Francis, it’s the middle of the night.”
“Now, Luca,” Francis said in a calm, but impatient tone.
There was a brief pause before Luca responded.
“Si. Solo un secondo.”
“Francis? What’s wrong?” Tammy asked, equally breathless.
Francis could hear panic rising in her voice.
“Which is the best hospital in Chicago?”
“I’m not sure. There’s Northwestern. They have a trauma center. Why? Are you okay?”
Francis sensed her anxiety.
“Gather the women and get them to this Northwestern. Tracy will need you. She has been attacked.”
Tammy’s breath hitched. “Oh my God. Okay. Um…oh, God,” she rambled.
“Tammy, stay calm. You must keep your head. Tracy will be fine. Call the women.”
“Yes. Okay. I’m on it. We’ll see you there.”
“I need to speak with Luca.”
“Okay. Hold on.”
“Francis, what’s happened?”
Luca was unruffled. Unlike Tammy, Luca kept his head at all times.
“There was an intruder. Tracy was badly beaten. When I walked in, he was trying to violate her.”
“Bastardo,” Luca growled. “I will have Jack drive the women. Tammy will call Gianni and Natasha. They have returned to Paris.”
“Grazie. Oh, and, Luca?”
“Si, capo, I know. I will send a cleanup crew to Tracy’s. It will be handled immediately, and I will meet you at the hospital after.”
“Grazie, cugino.”
TRACY
Tracy held Francis tight as he carried her through the automatic doors and into the emergency room. He carried her with ease, and Tracy was grateful because she didn't want him to put her down. Accompanied by a crew of men who seemed to appear out of nowhere, he approached the registration desk.
“My woman was attacked. She needs a doctor,” he told a frowning woman with tiny braids in her hair.
“Sir, you can sign her in and have a seat. When it’s her turn, the nurse will call her in to be triaged.”
Francis slightly shifted Tracy in his arms, which caused her to wince. He narrowed his eyes at the woman, and Tracy could see his jaw clench.
“I didn't request a nurse for…triage. I said that my woman needed to see a doctor.”
“And I said…have a seat,” the woman responded with a feisty roll of her neck. “This motherfuckah,” she mumbled to the woman sitting next to her.
“Listen, you foul-mouthed whore. I will have you dragged from behind that desk and have you whipped if you don't get a doctor, now!”
The woman’s eyes went buck. “Did you just threaten me?” she asked, grabbing the receiver of a telephone.
“Si, I did,” was Francis’ cool response. He turned to Paolo. “If she calls anyone but a doctor, take her away.”
Paolo nodded, ready to comply. Tracy looked at the woman, struggling to see through her swollen eyes. What she saw was fear. The receptionist was finally realizing that she wasn't dealing with your everyday “Joe.” Her hand shook as she hung up the receiver.
“I’ll get your wife a doctor, sir,” said the woman that was sitting next to her. “Please, follow me.”
She walked from behind the desk, right past triage, and entered the emergency room. Other nurses gave the woman questioning looks, but she ignored them all. She led them to a room with a glass wall and pointed to the bed.
“You can lay her down here. I’ll get a doctor,” she told him.
“Grazie,” Francis said with a nod.
The woman smiled nervously before leaving them in the room. Francis gently lowered her to the bed, and Tracy did her best not to wince from the pain of movement. She didn't like the sad look that Francis had whenever she did so.
Once Tracy was tucked in, Paolo exited the room and stood just outside the door. Tracy didn't want to speculate about what the hospital’s staff must have thought about the scary giant that was standing guard outside of her room. And even worse, the scarier giant inside of her room. Any doctor in their right mind would probably be afraid to enter.
As Francis hovered, Tracy was shocked to see the moisture in his eyes. Francis was sturdy and unbreakable, like a giant Redwood. He was the personification of power, and seeing him so vulnerable broke Tracy’s heart into tiny pieces.
“Francis...,” Tracy whispered, not sure of what to say.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I-I’m okay. Thank you for being here.”
Tracy sniffed, unable to suppress her tears.
“I’ll always be here, donna. You're mine now, and I protect what’s mine.
His voice was hoarse and filled with emotion. Even without her permission, Francis had claimed her. But Tracy was done fighting. What kept her from him? Was it fear of loving him? Fear of losing him? Or was it guilt? The guilt of betraying Steve? Whatever the reason, Tracy decided that she deserved to have a man that would cry for her.
She smiled as best she could and caressed his jaw. “I’m gonna be fine,” she reassured.
“Si, I know,” Francis agreed with a smile.
He turned his face into her hand and planted a sweet kiss to her palm. Guilt about the secret that she was keeping from him was beginning to eat at her.
“Francis, I have to—”
“Ma’am, I’m Dr. Hopkins,” a small female voice interrupted.
Francis stepped back in order to give the doctor room to work.
“I’m told that you were attacked. I’d like to examine you and run some tests, if that's okay.”
Tracy agreed with a nod.
“Sir,” Dr. Hopkins said, turning to Francis. “I’m gonna need the room.”
“Of course,” Francis agreed.
He turned to leave but stopped just short of the door. “Doctor, are these tests safe? My donna is pregnant.”
Tracy’s heart stopped. How did he know? Victoria? No, she would never betray her. He must've found out some other way.
“Of course,” the doctor assured.
Tracy wanted to reach out to him. She wanted to explain why she hadn't told him. But he left. Tracy was still staring at the door when she heard the doctor say, “So, your name is Donna? Well, Donna, what do you say we take a look at you?”
CHAPTER 11
LUCA
Luca sat on Tracy’s sofa and waited for his crew to finish cleaning. He had to admit that although he knew exactly what his cousin was capable of, even he was shocked by what he encountered in the hallway. Luca hadn't expected to find a man with a hole in his head and a glass shoved up his bloody ass. It was amazing how everyone, who didn't know any better, referred to him as the dangerous Savelli and Francis as the mild-mannered, rational Savelli. Luca knew better. Although Francis was quietly dangerous, he was deadly nonetheless. Not even Luca himself would dream of crossing him.
“They're done, boss,” Lorenzo informed.
“Bene. Now have them do it again.”
Lorenzo nodded and walked back into the hall.
Normally, Luca would never second guess his men. But this was Francis. He was not only the Capo Dei Capi, but he was family, and for most of Luca’s life, his teacher and mentor.
Luca’s phone rang. He pulled it out to see that Tammy was calling him. Earlier, when Francis phoned, Luca was buried deep inside of his own piece of heaven. He could tell that she was close to reaching an explosive end. Had he not heard the ringtone that he’d assigned to Francis, the call would have gone unanswered. However, after seeing the carnage that Francis left behind, Luca was glad that he answered.
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