Disgraced (Amado Brothers)

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Disgraced (Amado Brothers) Page 21

by Natasha Knight


  Zach chuckled. “Mind if I grab another one?” he asked, motioning to his beer.

  “Help yourself.”

  He got a beer and returned. “So, a Russian mobster?”

  “And his son. That’s almost taken care of now, but she’s got Feds tailing her. Security, they say. They need her testimony. And since I’m getting the feeling you don’t want to be found—”

  “That’s who the two buffoons across the street are. They’re doing a bang-up job protecting her.”

  He touched his bottle to mine in a mock toast.

  “I can handle them, don’t worry about me. So you and…Lina, was it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You left the church for her?”

  “I wasn’t yet ordained.” Why did I always feel defensive about it, like I needed to explain this piece? Why did it matter?

  He studied me. “You love her.” It wasn’t a question.

  I nodded.

  The shower switched off, and we both turned to the bathroom door. Zach swallowed half his beer.

  “I need to get out of here.” He reached into his pocket. “I just need you to do one thing for me.”

  “Anything.”

  He handed me a sheet of paper with a name and a long series of numbers written on it.

  “I need money wired into this account. My share of the family business.”

  “That’s a lot of money.”

  “And you can’t transfer it out of my account in Italy. They’ll track that. I need it done differently. I’ll pay it back.”

  “I don’t care about you paying it back. Who’s they?”

  “Less you know, the better, brother.”

  “I want to help you, Zach.”

  “This’ll help me. Can you do that?”

  “Yeah,” I said reluctantly, wanting more. Wanting to do more. “I’ll figure out a way.”

  He nodded. “Thanks.” He looked around. “I need to get out of here.”

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Best time for disappearing.”

  “Zach—”

  He looked at me. “I just need to shower. Shave my face. I must look a sight.” He ran a hand through the scruff of his jaw.

  I didn’t deny it.

  “If I can borrow some clothes? A cassock, maybe?”

  I studied him, knowing his mind was full, already on what he felt he had to do. “Anything you need.”

  “Thanks.” The bathroom door opened, and Lina stepped out wrapped in a towel, a cloud of steam behind her.

  “I’m pruny,” she said. “Do you need me to go back in?” She made a face.

  Zach smiled, but I was too worried to. “No,” I said as Zach and I stood. “That’s fine.” I turned to my brother. “Go ahead in. Take whatever you need. I’ll get some things together for you.”

  He nodded and patted my arm before making his way to the bathroom. He paused when he neared Lina, admiring the ink on her arm, shoulder, and back.

  “Nice.”

  “Thanks. Yours too.”

  The bathroom door closed, and the shower switched on. Lina came to me. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure exactly.”

  “Is he staying?”

  “No. I need to pack some things, in fact. Can you maybe get some food together for him?”

  “Sure. I’ll make a couple of sandwiches.”

  “Thanks.” I took my wallet out of my pocket as I headed to my closet, glad I had a few hundred dollars in cash to give Zach until I got that money transferred for him. Lina helped me pack for him and, not half an hour later, my brother said good-bye and slipped out the door looking like a different man—clean-shaven, the clothes he’d had on in the trash can, wearing one of my suits, a long dark coat, and carrying a duffel bag of my clothes, including a cassock, and the food Lina packed.

  I watched him disappear into the night and wondered where he was going. Because I knew what he was doing. Trouble wouldn’t have any problem finding him. Zach was going out looking for it.

  29

  Lina

  Seeing Zach standing in the dark in Damon’s borrowed apartment had scared me more than I’d admitted. I’d thought that was it. That Sergei had sent someone for me. It would be the safest thing for him to do, and it would be my punishment for having turned in the journal. For having lied to him about its existence at all. I guess it made me realize how vulnerable I was, because my grandfather had been right when he’d warned me about Alexi. Just because someone was behind bars didn’t mean they couldn’t get to you if they really wanted to.

  Knowing this made me think.

  Mr. Lewis called two days later to tell me Maxx had set up a time for my testimony to be recorded. Now that Alexi was dead, their case against the others had weakened. He couldn’t make me stay indefinitely, given there wasn’t a case to be prosecuted yet. Sergei was still recovering, but they’d had to move his trial date out by a few months and were still investigating Alexi’s murder.

  Damon booked us two one-way tickets to Florence for the end of the week, and I now stood by the window waiting for Mr. Lewis to arrive to take me to Maxx’s office. Damon wasn’t allowed to attend, but that was fine. He didn’t need to hear all the details.

  The first interview took three hours before we broke for lunch then reconvened an hour later for the rest of the afternoon. We had four days exactly like this, and I felt exhausted every night when Mr. Lewis dropped me back off at Damon’s apartment

  I answered Maxx’s questions truthfully, reliving every humiliating moment on camera, even though he already knew much of it. When he asked me about sleeping with either father or son, I simply answered with a “no” and hoped that would be the last time I’d be asked that particular question.

  It wasn’t until the final day that Maxx asked me the question I’d been waiting for. The one where I could, hopefully and without perjuring myself, let Sergei know I meant him no harm.

  “So Sergei Markov hired you, coincidentally, because of your piano-playing skills?” he asked.

  “He knew who I was when I got to Club Carmen. I was naive to think he wouldn’t. We never discussed the details. I imagine he hired me because he wanted to keep an eye on me. I mean, I sought him out. And he knew I’d turned over evidence on my own grandfather. But he was never unkind to me, and I never saw evidence of wrongdoing on his part. In fact, I only realized he’d known who I was all along when I went to visit him at the prison in order to ask for his help with Alexi. And even then, knowing my financial dependence on his son, knowing I specifically told him I did not want his help in that area, he gave me money to get out of town and away from Alexi.”

  “After you did one favor for him. So he gave you a job, truly, considering he paid you.”

  “No, his payment would have been to free me of Alexi. That’s all. The money he sent, I didn’t expect to keep it. And I know now he used me to send a message to his son about traitors and about you in particular. But as far as I was concerned, Sergei Markov only ever helped me, from the very beginning.”

  “Do you think he would want to “help” you enough to kill his own son?”

  I leaned back in my seat, and although my heart raced, I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to appear relaxed. “You’d have to ask him that.”

  Maxx took in a deep breath and ended the recording. Now that Alexi was dead, Maxx was disheartened by the fact that much of Sergei’s crimes would be hung on Alexi’s corpse. Father and son were so entrenched, their business dealings so close, it was hard to say who’d done what. Even my grandfather’s notebook named Markov. Never Sergei or Alexi. And, after Alexi’s death, my grandfather stated that the majority of his dealings had been with Alexi, not Sergei. Maxx’s attempt to blackmail me into testifying against Alexi had backfired on him.

  The more I thought about it, the more I knew my grandfather had done what he’d done to reaffirm his loyalty to Sergei. He was saving his life while protecting mine. And after all was said a
nd done, I guess Sergei would come out smelling like a rose while his son rotted in the ground.

  “What’s going to happen to Sergei?” I asked when only Maxx, Mr. Lewis, and I were left, and we were getting our coats on to go home.

  “He’ll be out of the infirmary this week and will be relocated to his cell. We have evidence against him, but not as much as I like.” He seemed frustrated.

  “What about my grandfather? Since he’s cooperating.”

  He gave me a calculated look “No comment on his cooperation.”

  Maxx knew Grandfather was involved in Alexi’s murder. He had to. But he couldn’t prove it, I knew that much.

  “How many years will Sergei get?”

  “Hard to say.”

  Mr. Lewis snapped his briefcase closed before coming to stand beside me.

  “Well, Agent Carson, I believe we’re finished here.”

  Maxx looked at me.

  “Yes. We are. Thank you, Ms. Guardia.”

  “Thank you,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand.

  “If I need anything else, I’ll reach out to Mr. Lewis.”

  I nodded, anxious to leave, to walk out of this office, this building, close this door, and go home.

  Home.

  I was going home.

  Damon and I were going home.

  Early in the morning of the day of our flight, Damon’s cell phone rang, waking us both. He answered as soon as he saw it was Raphael and spoke for a few moments, sitting up, switching on the light. His face grew serious.

  “How early are they?” he asked.

  “What’s going on?” My heart sank at his question. I knew what it was. What it had to be.

  Damon held up a finger and listened to whatever Raphael was saying.

  “All right. We’ll come directly there when we land,” he said, adding after a pause: “Raphael, don’t worry. They’re going to be fine.”

  “What’s happened?” I asked as soon as he disconnected the call.

  “Sofia went into labor a few hours ago, and they can’t stop it. They’re getting ready for an emergency C-section.”

  Tears instantly filled my eyes. “It’s too early. She’s only…thirty-three weeks.”

  “Almost thirty-four. I don’t think it’s unusual for twins, especially considering Sofia’s not very big.”

  “Can we change our flight?” I pushed the covers back. “Can I talk to her?”

  Damon took my hand when I started to climb out of the bed.

  “I’ll check on an earlier flight, but most are scheduled in the evening. It’s going to be okay, Lina. You’ll see her soon.”

  “I can’t talk to her?”

  “She was already in the operating room being prepped. Raphael was heading in.”

  “Oh, God, Damon. What if—”

  “Shh.”

  He pulled me to him.

  “No what-if’s. It’s going to be fine. They’re all going to be fine.”

  I don’t know how we got through that day. I knew Damon was worried too, even though he put on a good front for my sake. We managed to change our flights for one that left two hours earlier and arrived in Tuscany early the next morning.

  The sun was just breaking the clouds in the horizon, but I didn’t stop to take it in. After clearing customs and immigration, we quickly found a taxi and headed to Careggi Hospital in Florence. It was one of the biggest in the region with a newer maternity unit.

  Damon took over, speaking fluent Italian—something I’d forgotten he knew, since he’d grown up here. The way his body and face relaxed once the nurse checked her computer, I knew things were all right.

  “Babies were born a few hours ago. Two little girls.”

  I saw how Damon’s eyes glistened as he smiled big.

  I covered my mouth, a tear slipping out of my eye. “Girls.” My smile faltered. “Sofia?”

  “She’s fine.”

  I exhaled in relief. “Thank God.” I wiped my face.

  The nurse said something, and Damon replied.

  “She says we can leave our bags here.”

  We had four between us. As he’d only gone to New York City temporarily, Damon only had one large suitcase of clothes and personal items. Looking at him take my things, though—two years’ worth—that barely filled three cases, it felt strange. Like for the past two years, I hadn’t been really living.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I snapped out of it. “How do I look?” I asked, pulling my sleeve down to cover as much of my tattoo as possible, wanting to show Sofia after I’d told her first.

  Damon took my hand and drew me close. He touched my neck, and I realized they’d see part of it there.

  “You have nothing to hide, and you look beautiful. Happy, actually. I haven’t seen that in a while.”

  I took a deep breath, nervous, and clung tighter to his hand, noticing how he didn’t pull away. We weren’t hiding. He’d said that. I guess he meant it.

  We rode the elevator up to the third floor and headed to Sofia’s room. Before we reached it, though, Raphael turned the corner holding what I guessed was a cup of coffee. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, just like he used to. His hair was ruffled, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in about three days.

  He stopped short, and it took him a moment, as if he were surprised to see us. But then a smile spread across his face, and we crossed the distance, meeting in the middle. Raphael glanced briefly to where Damon held my hand but quickly returned his gaze to his brother’s.

  “So you’ll have a house full of girls,” Damon said.

  I watched as they hugged. It was a good hug. A real one. I took the coffee cup out of Raphael’s hand when it splashed as Damon patted his back. Raphael turned to me, looked me over from head to toe, his eyes narrowing a little as they found the uppermost part of the tattoo, but then softening again as he hugged me. It was strange being hugged by him, Damon’s identical twin. That it could feel so different to being hugged by Damon.

  “It’s good to see you, Lina.”

  He held me at arm’s length.

  “It’s good to see you, Raphael.”

  “Sofia’s been trying to stay awake for you.”

  “I can’t wait another minute. Where is she? And the babies?”

  “This way.” He led the way down the hall and pushed her door open.

  Sunshine filled the bright, white room and spilled onto Sofia in the hospital bed. It took her a moment to register that it was us, just like it had Raphael, but in the next instant, she held her arms out to me. A huge smile spread across her face.

  “Lina!”

  I began to cry right away, leaning down to hug my sister, to hold her tight, so tight I realized just how much I’d been missing her. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so distant,” I said, our tears blending on our cheeks as she pushed me back to look at me before wiping her thumbs across my face and drawing me back in.

  “I’m so, so glad you’re here and you’re safe, Lina. I missed you so much. So freaking much.”

  “Sofia,” Raphael said, coming around to the other side of the bed. “The stitches.”

  Sofia groaned, and I pulled back. She looked at Damon and beckoned to him to come. He hugged her, although more gently than I had, and I heard her whisper to him.

  “Thank you for bringing her home.”

  “I know she’s glad to be here. Only sorry we couldn’t get here sooner,” he said.

  Once Damon stepped aside, she retuned her gaze to me and looked me over from head to toe.

  “Don’t they feed you in New York?” she asked.

  I’d put on a few pounds but was still thinner than I’d been when I’d left two years ago. I hadn’t realized how much weight I’d lost under the stress of having Alexi in my life.

  “I was saving myself for Maria’s cooking.”

  “She stuffed me for the last eight months, so it’ll be nice to have her focus on someone else,” Sofia teased.

  “You’re okay?” I asked, pulling
up a chair, although I was anxious to see my nieces.

  She nodded. “Yeah. We knew it could happen, but when it does, it’s still a shock. You want to keep them inside you and growing and safe as long as possible,” she said, her eyes reddening again.

  “So two girls, huh?”

  “You should meet your nieces.”

  She began to sit up, and Raphael instantly had his arms around her, helping her. He gestured to the wheelchair that Damon pushed over, and in a few moments, he’d settled Sofia in it.

  “You know I’m not an invalid, right?” she said as he wheeled her out.

  “I can’t take care of my wife?”

  She glanced up at him, and he leaned down to kiss her mouth. I was so happy to see them together, to see them still so in love. I squeezed Damon’s hand as we followed them down the hall and into the unit where my nieces were along with so many others. The room was set up with cozy rocking chairs and pretty pastel pink-and-blue walls, ducks, bears, and balloons stenciled along every surface.

  “It’ll be at least three to four weeks before we can take them home,” Sofia said as Raphael settled her around two tiny little things sharing an incubator, both with tubes in their noses, both wearing the tiniest diapers, their skinny little limbs pink, heads covered with tiny caps striped pink-and-blue. On their wrists they wore bracelets with their names and their parents’ names on them. I noticed Raphael and Sofia had matching ones.

  Sofia slipped a hand inside to touch one. “This is Elena, she came first.”

  I leaned over to look at her, and Elena squirmed, blinking twice although never quite opening her eyes.

  “And this is Siena. She followed a few minutes later.”

  Siena turned her face toward the sound of Sofia’s voice, but her eyes remained closed.

  “They’re beautiful,” I said. “Perfect.”

  Sofia looked up at me. “They are.”

  “The tubes?” Damon asked.

  Raphael looked at Elena. “To feed them.”

 

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