by Dana Delamar
Ruggero sighed, the breath gusting out of him wearily. “She’s asked me twice why you lied to her.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. She asked for Antonio, but I’ve kept them apart.”
“Mille grazie.”
“It’s your place to tell her, not ours.” When he tried to stand up again, Ruggero frowned. “You must stay in bed.”
Enrico ignored him and pressed forward. When he met resistance, he mustered up his sternest glare. “I am your capo still, am I not?” There was a pause, then Ruggero’s grip shifted to one of assistance rather than restraint. Enrico started to lower himself onto his feet when a sharp rap on the half-open door caught their attention.
A tall, thin, dark-haired man in a white coat and glasses stood there with Enrico’s medical chart in his hand. It was Enrico’s personal physician, Dottor Beltrami. He looked at Enrico and shook his head. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need to see Kate.”
“I must tell you something about her condition. She didn’t want you to know. I think you should.”
Panic sliced through Enrico. “Tell me.”
“She’s pregnant.”
Enrico’s brows shot up. Pregnant? Was the baby his? He remembered her hesitation that first time, the fact that they hadn’t used condoms the first night. She said she’d been on birth control pills before then. The child had to be his.
Warmth spread through him. He was going to be a father in truth, not just in name, after all this time. He smiled at Ruggero and Beltrami. “I assume the child is all right?”
“We believe so. She doesn’t show any signs of a miscarriage. The hospital is of course keeping a close watch on her.”
“I have to see her.” Enrico gingerly slid off the bed. He tried to take a step and wobbled. Ruggero grabbed his arm to steady him.
“You aren’t supposed to be on your feet. You’re still heavily medicated, and you could tear your stitches if you move around too much,” Beltrami said.
Enrico growled in frustration. He wasn’t sure he could cross the floor of his own room, much less make it to hers. “Wheelchair, then?”
Beltrami sighed. “You won’t listen, will you?”
“No.”
“I’ll get a nurse. Sit down.”
Ruggero helped him to the chair beside the bed. Enrico turned to him and whispered. “Antonio thinks a GPS tracker was used on the cars.”
“It’s possible.”
“Find out if that’s the case and who planted it. If it’s Trucco, he needs to be dealt with, immediately.”
The guard nodded. “I’ll handle it.”
A nurse came in with a wheelchair, followed by Beltrami. She frowned at Enrico and at the doctor, but helped him into the chair. They started down the hallway, IV stand in tow, and Enrico thought about Kate and the baby. She didn’t want him to know about the pregnancy. Which could mean only one thing: she hated him, and she intended to leave him. Maybe she even meant to abort the child.
His gut cramped and a shudder racked his body. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to persuade her to forgive him. Or at least to spare their child. If needed, he would raise it on his own. He would do whatever it took to keep his child safe.
When he got the reports from his men, Carlo cursed God for denying him yet again. Enrico Lucchesi was like the proverbial cockroach: damned difficult to kill.
Carlo relished the image of stomping on Lucchesi. How he’d love to see him dead. But so far that had not come to pass, despite Domenico’s assistance.
Even worse, Franco Trucco had come to see him the day before. And what he’d told Carlo made him burn even hotter.
Lucchesi had lied all along. He had sullied his marriage to Toni before it had even begun. Thank God his daughter had been spared the humiliation.
But her honor would be avenged. It was the least he could do to make up for marrying her to a Lucchesi, for consigning her to life as a housewife, when she should have been his heir, when she should have been running the Andretti cosca instead. If only he hadn’t given in to her pleas to save her twin…. But what was done was done. All he had left to give her was vengeance.
What was the best way to draw out Lucchesi’s suffering? Killing him was not enough anymore. He wanted to pummel Lucchesi, to strip him of everything before he died.
Before the last day of his life, Lucchesi would lose the ones he loved. Perhaps the bastard son first? The boy might be Lucchesi’s blood, but the two must be estranged if the son worked for Interpol. Losing a son he wasn’t close to? Not a good first blow.
No, the first blow would be Rinaldo’s death, and Carlo would make it painful. Trucco had made clear that Rinaldo was aware of Enrico’s bastard, that he’d started making the payments to keep Enrico’s secret. Rinaldo had known the marriage and the truce were founded on a lie.
What if Rinaldo lost a finger or two before he died? That would be the perfect payback. Anger still gripped Carlo whenever he noted Dario’s missing finger, the void a constant reminder of when Rinaldo thought he’d had the upper hand.
Oh yes. Carlo smiled to himself. He’d enjoy wrapping Rinaldo’s fingers up in a box and sending them to Lucchesi.
And then… then it would be time to get more direct. To rob Lucchesi of what he loved most. The woman. She was the key to his suffering. Lucchesi would do anything for the American. She too would learn the meaning of pain. But not before they’d had some fun together. He’d earned a little indulgence.
The boy would be the final blow. The final nail in the coffin, the end of Rinaldo and Enrico Lucchesi’s line. The ultimate grind of his heel before Carlo finished Enrico himself.
But before all that, Carlo would have his day in court. Benedetto had agreed to his petition to hear his case against Lucchesi before La Provincia. Lucchesi would squirm then, the little cockroach, and Carlo would enjoy making him crawl before all of La Provincia. Maybe he would even finally overcome his exile and earn a seat on the council.
Best of all, Lucchesi would have no idea that the pain was just starting. That all of this had merely been the appetizer before the main course.
Carlo picked up the phone and placed two calls. One to Domenico, the other to his favorite member of the carabinieri.
CHAPTER 25
Kate hadn’t let Antonio leave her side since he’d come in her hospital room looking for Ruggero. She’d asked him two questions: How was Enrico? And why had he called him Don Lucchesi? He’d answered the first, and pretended he hadn’t heard the second. So she’d asked again. Twice more. He’d looked increasingly uncomfortable with each repetition. So she asked a fourth time.
This time he got up and paced over to the open door, poking his head out and looking down the hall. Then he came back in. This is it. He’s going to tell me.
Instead he sat down in the chair across from her bed and rubbed his hands over his face. He looked at the floor tiles and ignored her.
“Answer me, Antonio. Why did you call him Don Lucchesi?”
Two spots of color rose in his cheeks, but he continued to stare at the floor.
“Why, Antonio?”
Finally he met her eyes. “I cannot say.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I cannot.”
She sighed, letting her eyes fill with tears. Maybe that would work on him. It was easy to summon the tears; she didn’t have to think about anything in particular. She was so angry and frustrated. And worried. And happy about the baby. And terrified at the same time. It wasn’t just her life in jeopardy anymore. Now she had two people to worry about. Two people to keep safe from Carlo Andretti. How the hell was she going to do that?
“Signora, per favore, do not cry.” Antonio brought her a box of tissues, holding it out to her awkwardly, his face turned away from her.
“Look at me. Look me in the eyes and tell me why.”
“Signora, I cannot say.”
A knock on the door broke their gaze. A nurse wheeled Enrico i
n, followed by Dottor Beltrami and Ruggero. She looked Enrico over, glad his color had returned, though he was hunched uncomfortably in the chair. But she didn’t want to see him. And she certainly didn’t want to talk to him. Enrico looked at everyone around them. “Please leave us.”
“That’s not necessary,” Kate said.
“It is.” Enrico glared at the others. “Per favore, now. And close the door behind you.” Antonio was the first to start edging toward the hall, then the rest followed suit. The room was clear a few seconds later.
Kate wiped her tears away with a tissue. She didn’t want to appear weak for this conversation. “I wish you’d leave me alone.”
“I had to see you.”
“You’ve seen me. I’m fine. Now go.”
He leaned forward in the chair, wincing. “Kate, Dottor Beltrami told me about the child.”
She flushed with heat. “I asked him not to!”
“Why?”
She averted her eyes from his. “You know why.”
“Because of who I am.”
She looked at him then. “Yes.” She held his eyes, waiting for more. When he didn’t respond, she added, “You can’t even say it, can you?”
He sighed and stared at his hands. “I am the capo of the Lucchesi cosca. There, I have said it.” He raised his eyes and smirked after a moment. “You would not believe how many people in law enforcement have wanted to hear that.”
She took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Two reasons. One, you would not have trusted me if you had known. And two, that knowledge is dangerous. If I told you and you rejected me, I would have to silence you.”
“What a nice way of putting it!” She waited a beat and then said, “So you’re telling me now. Does that mean my choice is whether you or Carlo kills me?”
“Kate, I would never—”
“You just said you would ‘silence’ me.”
“But I cannot. That is my dilemma. I cannot do it. And I do not want you with me because you have no choice. Nor do I want to leave you at Carlo’s mercy.” He bit his lip. “And I do not want our child to grow up without knowing me.” He paused a moment, his voice hoarsening. “I already have one child I did not get to raise. I do not want that to happen again.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “You have a child?”
“A son. He is twenty-seven and lives in England. He was conceived while I was engaged to Antonella. I was seventeen. I was infatuated with an English girl, Veronica, and I did not want to marry a girl I had not chosen. I have regretted my behavior ever since.” He looked at her. “I never told Toni. She already hurt so badly over not being able to have a child.”
“Wow.” Kate was silent for a moment. “You have a son only two years younger than me?”
“Does that bother you?”
“A bit. It’s been easy to forget our age difference.”
“I have a past, Kate.”
She was silent for a moment, then she said, “So, do you see him?”
Enrico shook his head. “I have not seen him since he was eight. Well, I have not seen him up close. I have spied on him from afar a few times. He hates me.”
“Why?”
“It is a long story.”
“We don’t have anywhere to be.”
Enrico sighed. “He thinks it is my fault his mother killed herself.”
“Is it your fault?”
He fiddled with the ties on his hospital robe. “Of course not. But sometimes I blame myself, for not seeing the signs. For not treating her better all those years ago. I should have told Veronica I was engaged. I should not have let her believe I was free.”
Kate let out a sound of disgust and lay back against the pillows. “You are one fine piece of work, Enrico.”
“What does that mean?”
She held his eyes with hers. “First this girl in England, and then your secretary. And now me. And your wife too. You lied to us all.” Her anger rose, building into a flash of heat that burned her face and throat. She poured acid into her voice. “Twice I asked you, twice you denied it. You lied right to my face. That is not how you treat someone you love.”
His eyes dropped to the tiles. “I cannot argue. I have no right to ask you to forgive me. But I will.”
The gall of him. “How long have all of you been laughing behind my back?”
“No one has been laughing at you. It was necessary. All of us keep secrets all the time. It has become second nature.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Frankly, I am weary of it.”
“I’m ‘weary’ of all the lying too. How could you have so little respect for me?”
“I do respect you. I was trying to keep you safe. If I had told you earlier, you would have run, and Carlo would have found you.”
It was true. But it didn’t change the fact of who he was. “How many people have you killed?”
To his credit, he didn’t hesitate. “Personally, a handful. I do not keep track of how many I have ordered to be killed.”
She sucked in a breath. How casually he said this. “Don’t you feel any remorse?”
He said nothing for a second, then he answered, his eyes on hers. “I kill only when it is deserved. Then there is nothing to feel guilty about.”
“It’s still murder.”
“God kills every day. Is that murder?”
“So now you’re God?” The balls on this man!
“No. But I do administer justice. I am sure that sometimes I am carrying out His will.”
“But you kill innocent people! How can that be God’s will?”
He leaned forward, his eyes intent on her, anger on his face. “Listen to me. I kill only those who deserve it. The innocent have nothing to fear from me.”
“How can that be true?”
“Do you think the people of this area, do you think the Italian state, would tolerate me long if I killed the innocent? If I did not enforce, yes, law and order, upon my own people, and upon other ‘Ndranghetisti? I serve a purpose here. I am their major defense against the likes of Carlo Andretti and Cosa Nostra and the Russian mob, and any other criminals who would like to infiltrate Milan and the lake.”
If Enrico were gone, and Carlo Andretti were running the show…. Her stomach roiled.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She looked down at her hands, twisting them in the light sheet covering her. What should she do? He was a Mafioso. And yet he was everything Carlo Andretti was not. Everything Vince had never been. Did that make him a good man?
“Then I am going to ask again. Do you forgive me? Everything I did, it was out of love. I wanted to give you a choice. I wanted you to come to me of your own free will. I wanted you with me because you love me. Not because you have to be.”
“And the child, I suppose, is part of it?”
“I do not want our baby to grow up without me.” He paused. “Or not to grow up at all.”
It took her a second to grasp what he meant. “I’m keeping the baby.”
He smiled, his body losing some of its tension. “I am glad of that at least.” He rolled the chair closer to the bed, his face tightening with pain as he did so. “Kate, I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”
Adrenaline rushed through her at the words. She’d been afraid of them. And now that she knew who he was, she was afraid of him. Of what he’d do if she said no. “I can’t answer that.”
“Why not?” He looked at her, puzzled.
“Because I don’t have a choice. It’s yes, or that’s it, isn’t it?”
“If you want to say no, say it. I will figure out how to get you out of the country. And somehow I will keep you safe from Andretti.”
“But won’t you be in trouble for letting me go?”
“Most likely I will lose my head over it. But I will not force you to marry me.”
Would he be saying that if she wasn’t pregnant? “So were you ever planning to tell me? Perhaps not until after I was your
wife, after I was pregnant with your child?”
“That would not be right. Remember when we were in the car? Just before you were shot, I said there was something I owed you, so you could admit you love me. And that something was the truth. I planned to tell you that minute, so you could decide. And then only you and I would know you knew, and if you wanted to leave, you could.” He looked away from her. “I wish I had worked up the nerve to say it a few minutes earlier. I wish I had told you long ago. Then you would know you could trust me.”
She thought for a moment. “Does anyone else know about your son?”
“No. I have kept him secret to keep him safe.”
“So you trust me with this?”
He raised his eyes to hers. “I am trusting you with my life. You know who I am now.” Then he added, “And with my heart too. I love you so much it tears me apart to think of never seeing you again. But I will let you go, if that is what you want, and I will face whatever I have to as a result.” He reached out and took her hand, his warm fingers closing around hers. She kept her hand stiff at first, then finally relaxed it. She looked at him for a good long while, not saying anything. He trusted her; could she ever trust him?
“Kate?” he asked, his voice low, hushed. Waiting.
“If I wasn’t pregnant, would you still let me go?”
“Of course. I would never harm you. Never. I would take a bullet for you.”
She smiled. How many people could say that and literally mean it? “You did, actually, in the car. And with Vince, you almost did.”
“Do not forget he tried to stab me, too, back in your office.” He returned her smile.
He was always taking a risk for her; maybe it was time she did the same. “That’s how this all started.”
He shook his head. “Not exactly. I was in love with you for months before that. But I had to finish grieving for Toni first before I could see that.”
He’d been through so much; he’d taken so many chances since that fight with Vince in her office, and all of them for her. Her throat tightened up. “You really do love me, don’t you?” Kate fought to keep tears out of her eyes.
“God knows I do.” He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I would do anything for you.”
