Wounded Redemption by Brook Wilder
Chapter 12
Rory
Clashes with protesters have grown violent over the past three days, with twenty arrests and two deaths. One police officer was taken to the hospital with minor injuries. The New York governor has said in a statement that he doesn’t condone the violence against his city and will do all that it takes to protect its people and its communities.
Meanwhile, the threat of spreading the coronavirus looms large, given the number of people that are showing up night after night and taking to the streets. While some have masks to hide their identities, not all do, and it begs the question of how many more outbreaks we will see from these activities. Are we looking at a surge in New York?
I clicked the TV off and sighed, wondering why I even watched the news when it was filled with nothing but depressing stories. The violence over the police killings had spread to the city, but we weren’t as bad off as some of the other places, such as Portland or Minneapolis. Coupled with the pandemic still raging, I was afraid to really go outside at all.
Those weren’t my only fears, however. After Elias’ death, I had waited with bated breath for Carmine to strike back. And he had, with a vengeance. Those that had turned against him while he was in the hospital were turning up dead, meaning that Nico had fewer and fewer people to back him in the war with his father.
Several of the businesses that Nico supported had been torched, and since the cops were too busy dealing with the protests, there was no one asking a heck of a lot of questions.
Except me.
My main question was when it was going to come to a head. Every time Nico left the penthouse, I was in fear for his life, knowing that his father would stop at nothing to kill his only son. It hurt me to see my husband so hurt over this war, not because he cared for his father but because innocent people that trusted in him were getting hurt.
I wasn’t allowed to leave the penthouse under any circumstances unless I was with Nico. That was fine by me. I ran the Midtown Post from the office he had fashioned for me at the penthouse, and considering that most people were working from home anyway, it was working out quite nicely. Now I could be home with Anthony and still be a working mother; journalism was one of the things I didn’t want to give up just because I had a child.
Well, that and a rich husband, but if Carmine kept torching Nico’s businesses, he wasn’t going to be rich much longer.
Not that I cared a whole lot. I would have loved Nico even if he didn’t have any money, and while it was nice to be living in the lap of luxury like the penthouse, I didn’t necessarily need all of those comforts. I did like the support of knowing we were pretty well protected here.
I just didn’t know for how much longer we could hide from Carmine. I knew he was coming after what Nico valued most, which was his son, and I would do all I could to protect Anthony from his own grandfather.
It was odd to even consider that a grandparent would be after killing his own grandson. I couldn’t comprehend the threat that Carmine saw in my son, that he would be concerned about what Anthony could do to the Mafia Carmine loved so much.
But even as he saw Anthony as a threat, Nico was a much bigger one, and since he had killed Carmine’s henchman, I doubted that his own father was going to let him get away with it.
He just wasn’t coming at Nico directly, and that was what scared me most about it all. I was more of a wield-the-pen-and-kill-them-with-words sort of girl, and I knew that my husband was more strike first and ask questions later.
We had to stop Carmine. We couldn’t let him win. I wasn’t about to lose all that I had fought so hard for, the husband I didn’t know I needed and the son I would rip out my very heart to protect.
Nico wasn’t backing down, however. He had torched a few of his father’s businesses himself, and every night it felt like there was another one going up in flames. For each business that Carmine attacked, Nico hit back with two more, one being a warehouse by the Hudson that had held millions of dollars’ worth of drugs that his father was trying to push out to the rest of the country. I was surprised that he had done something like that, knowing it was hitting his pocket as much as his father’s, but Nico had informed me that he would rather take the hit and be satisfied that his father had done the same than to let him make millions. In doing so, he would also turn some of Carmine’s top suppliers against him, knowing that they couldn’t trust him with their product while this war raged on.
I just kissed my son extra at night and held my husband even tighter, praying to anyone that was listening that they wouldn’t be taken from me. I couldn’t bear it. I didn’t want to bury my husband, become a widow at the hands of his father.
I didn’t want my child to grow up in this evilness, to see the fighting between those that were supposed to care about him and have him learn the same hate that Nico had for his father.
I wanted Anthony to have nothing more than love surrounding him, and while I tried desperately to make that happen, it was also exceedingly difficult to keep a brave face about it.
The doorbell rang and I pushed myself off the couch, nodding to the ever-present guards that remained in the penthouse now. Nico had tripled them around the building, with instructions to haul anyone off that wasn’t on our short list of people we trusted, but it was the guards inside that had me unsettled. I knew they would lay down their lives for my family and me, but just knowing that they were needed was horrifying.
“It’s Emilia,” I told the guard, flipping around my phone to show the video feed. “I’m confirming her.”
“Of course, Mrs. D’Agostino,” he stated, clearing his throat. “We just have to be sure.”
“I know,” I said softly as I pulled open the door. “I know you are doing your job, and I appreciate it.”
“You do?” Emilia asked, arching a brow. “Well, honey, I appreciate you as well.”
I rolled my eyes, opening the door wider so she could come in. “I was talking to the guards, not you.”
She gave me her perfect pout, dropping her bag on the couch. “Well, I appreciate you, Rory. I mean, look at you! Mob wife, paper owner, and mom. You should be on some magazine cover as the woman who can do it all.”
“Yeah, right,” I said, moving to the nearby overstuffed chair so that Emilia could coo over Anthony. “I feel like I’m failing at it all, really.”
“If you were,” Emilia countered. “Then you would be dead. The whole bit about you being alive still surprises me.”
I shot her a dirty look, knowing that she wasn’t far off. If I was utterly failing at this, then I would be dead. I had exposed some pretty big bombshell secrets of Carmine’s, aided in the rescue of the woman that I had thought up until now was Nico’s wife, and faced the Mafia don down with my own set of questions.
All in all, it was a miracle that I was still alive. “So, what’s going on in your world?” I asked, draping my legs over the side of the chair. “Where are you jet setting off to next?”
Emilia shook her head as she let Anthony grab her fingers. “Nowhere right now. The pandemic has put a damper on a lot of my traveling. Most of the fashion shows are canceled, and all my friends are scattered across the country.”
“This one is stuck in New York,” I muttered, brushing my hair out of my face. “Right inside this penthouse. So if you need to see someone, I won’t be hard to find.”
Emilia snickered. “True. At least you have no life.”
She was right. I had no life. Nothing about my life was mine. “At least tell me that you are staying safe.”
Emilia arched a brow. “Safe? Have you been outside? There’s nothing that you can get into unless you want to protest, and while I can’t fault them for attempting to speak out against what they don’t think is right, it’s not something I want to do right now.”
“Yeah, me either,” I sighed, watching my bestie play with my son. “Did you ever think this would be my life, I mean my actual life?”
“I thought you would eventually be the old cat lady,” Emilia teased. “I’m really happy for you, Rory. I just hope that you can get all this mess behind you and be happy all the time with that gorgeous husband of yours.”
I smiled, mainly because the guard at the door snorted softly. Nico was gorgeous, and I now knew every inch of his toned body like he did mine. He tried to calm my fears, but I could see in his eyes how he was worried about what could happen next, and I worried about him.
A lesser man would crack under this pressure.
“Well,” Emilia announced, picking up Anthony and rubbing her nose against his. “I think it’s time for us adults to have a drink.”
I seconded that.
**
Two nights later, I clenched and unclenched my hands nervously as I waited for Nico to return, afraid of what I would find out when he did. He had gone to get Angelica and Lorenzo out of the safe house to bring them to the penthouse in an effort to give them more normalcy in their lives and to allow them to meet me.
I was nervous, far more nervous than I had ever been in my entire life.
I had no idea what condition they were going to be in or if they would even feel welcome here. Nico had told me that it was clear Angelica hadn’t been a mother to Lorenzo, that she likely didn’t know how, and my heart went out to her, knowing she had Lorenzo young and under the worst of circumstances. I could help her.
I wanted to help her in so many ways.
The door opened and Vincent came through first, carrying a squalling boy in his arms. The look on the man’s face would almost have been laughable if the kid hadn’t been screaming his head off, and I rushed to him. “What’s wrong?”
“He hated the elevator,” Vincent replied, wincing as the kid screamed in his ears. “And the car ride and the fact that I even touched him.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” I cooed, smoothing the boy’s hair off his forehead. Lorenzo reared up against my touch, and Vincent’s chin became a battering ram, causing the guard to swear and hold him tighter. “Put him down,” I told him, stepping back. The balcony door was locked at the top, so he couldn’t throw himself off, and all the doors were shut to the bedrooms, so there wasn’t going to be much he could destroy.
“Are you sure?” Vincent asked.
I nodded, and he set him down gingerly, backing away as if the little boy was the spawn of the devil.
He was, but I wasn’t going to hold that against him. Lorenzo took off and I maintained a distance behind him, letting him run around the penthouse as if he were looking for a way out. What horrors had he seen in that brothel? How many times had he come in contact with his father, with men who might have abused him?
Finally, he stopped in his tracks and found a corner to sit in, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face. Oh God, he was going to rip out my heart! I sat against the wall not far from him, mimicking his stance. “I’m Rory,” I said gently. “And I’m going to sit here with you. Is that okay?”
He didn’t answer but didn’t move either, so I considered that a win. I knew he felt like a caged animal here, and I would sit on this floor for as long as he needed.
Footsteps caught my attention, and I looked up to find Nico at the end of the hall. I shook my head firmly at him. He nodded and walked in the other direction, likely telling everyone else to do the same.
I didn’t know how long we sat there, but finally, as my legs started to go asleep from the crouched position, Lorenzo lifted his head and his eyes, Elias’ eyes, stared back at me. I held my breath as he started to move closer until his little body was pressed up against mine and his head was lying on my arm. His entire body trembled against mine as I gently moved my arm and placed it around his shoulders, tears coming to my eyes. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” I whispered to him. “You can trust me.” I just hoped I could keep my promise to him. We had no idea what was coming, but I was going to treat this little boy like my own and protect him with my very life if that was what it took.
A little while later, Nico made his way down the hall as Lorenzo slept against me, his face softening as he saw the tears on my cheeks. “Are you okay?” he whispered.
I shook my head no and he plunked down beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders just like I was doing to Lorenzo. “He’s hurting,” I forced out, breathing in Nico’s scent. “Oh God, Nico, what happened to him?”
“I don’t know,” Nico said, his voice gutted. “But you are the perfect person to make him feel like this is home.”
“Is this his home?” I countered softly as Lorenzo shifted closer to me in his sleep.
Nico pressed his lips to my temple. “Of course it is. He’s welcome, and so is Angelica.” He heaved a sigh. “I think she needs some of your kindness, too, love.”
I nodded, leaning into him just a little more. I would work on Angelica next and hopefully find a place for her to feel safe as well.
