Luca: The Boston Syndicate, Book Two, page 23
He grabs his phone and dials a number. “Eoghan. I’m sending you my location. Luca’s car was run off the road, and Giada was shot. The shooter and the car are on the east side of the street. I need a cleanup. We’re headed to the doc’s house now.” Finn hangs up and sends our location to his brother before he speeds away on the quiet highway.
Alessia turns in her seat and looks from me to Giada with tears in her eyes. “She’s going to be okay. Our doctor saved my bodyguard. She’ll be fine.”
I don’t respond. My gaze is focused on my wife’s face as I pray she opens her amber eyes again.
It takes Finn seven minutes to get to the doctor’s house. Seven of the longest and most excruciating minutes of my life. The doctor meets us in the back driveway and takes one look at Giada before a flurry of activity begins. The doc shouts orders at his staff waiting outside of the operating room as they wheel my wife behind the door.
I try to go in, but the doctor stops me. “You need to stay out here. One of the nurses will come by with something for you to change into.”
“I need to be with my wife,” I growl at the man in my way.
“I need to be with your wife, and I can’t do that if I’m out here arguing with you,” the doctor tells me.
“Come on, Luca. He needs to get in there,” Finn says, grabbing my shoulder and tugging me back. The doctor spins and goes through the doors where they took Giada.
“It’s going to be okay. She’s in the best hands money can buy.”
I allow him to lead me to a couch set up just outside the doors. He has a seat next to me and Alessia sits on the couch opposite us. When I glance at her, I see the worried look on her face. That was a lot of blood, and Giada was so fucking pale, as though it all had leaked from her. Alessia tries to offer me a reassuring smile, but it’s useless. Everyone in this room knows how fragile life is, and Giada may not have one after tonight.
A nurse brings me a change of clothes and leads me into the bathroom. As I wash the blood from my hands and neck with a damp cloth, my eyes stay fixed on my reflection. Why wasn’t I faster? If I would have covered her faster, the bullet would have gone into me instead of her. I’m the one with the stains on my soul, not her. She doesn't deserve being shot and fighting for her life.
Staring at myself, rage like I’ve never known overtakes every cell in my body and explodes through my fist into the mirror. I keep punching until my knuckles are broken and bloody. Until Giada’s blood mixes with mine on my cut palms.
The pounding on the door breaks me from my violent haze. “Luca,” Finn says through the door.
I open the door and find him standing there. He looks from the mirror to my knuckles, then meets my gaze. “Come on. I’ll find someone to stitch your hand.”
The same nurse who handed me the change of clothes is now cleaning glass from my skin.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” I say robotically since that’s what a rational person would do in this situation, even though I feel like anything but.
She raises her shoulder, shrugging off my apology. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been working with the doc for nearly ten years. You’re not the first person to break something around here.” She smiles, but I don’t return it. The sum of everything that is good in my life is lying on an operating table, and I don’t have it in me to feel anything other than anger that she’s there at all.
When the nurse finishes cleaning the wound, she applies a few stitches to the deepest of the cuts then covers them with gauze. “I’ll see if I can get an update on your wife. It may be too soon right now, though. Okay?”
I nod and Finn shoves off the wall he was leaning against while the nurse patched me up.
“No speeches about how I should control my temper better than that?” I ask my cousin when he sits next to me, his expression giving nothing away.
Finn shakes his head and releases a huff of breath. “Are you serious? If I were in your shoes, I would’ve probably done the same thing. I think you forget the kind of man I am.”
“Yeah, what kind is that?”
“The kind who would move heaven and hell to protect his wife and cut through any motherfucker who stood in his way. If busting a mirror and your hands make the pain in your chest lessen for even a second, who the hell am I to judge?” Finn looks at me. “A guy I know once told me it changes when you have someone who carries your heart in their body.”
“It sure as fuck does.”
Finn smiles. “Yeah, that’s what I said, too.”
Three grueling hours later, the doctor meets me in the waiting room. “She’s going to be fine,” he says. “The bullet went straight through. It tore up some muscles but missed the major arteries, which is always a concern with gunshot wounds like this. She’s going into recovery now, and you can see her once she’s settled. She’s asleep and heavily medicated for pain, so when she wakes up, she won’t be fully cognitive.”
I nod and thank the doctor, apologizing again for the mirror.
“It’s fine. I’ll bill your cousin.”
When he walks away, Alessia looks in the direction he went then back to her husband. “Holy shit, did the doc just crack a joke?”
“Doubtful. I fully expect an invoice by morning,” Finn replies.
Alessia lets out a small laugh then turns to me and smiles.
This time, I return it.
Chapter twenty
Giada
Waking in the hospital, or rather the doctor’s house, was a surprise, to say the least. When people say they don’t remember their accident, I don’t understand how. I remembered every second of it. The fear in my husband’s eyes when he saw me bleeding in the car will forever be ingrained in my memory. As soon as I realized what happened in that car, I was terrified. I was certain that when my eyes closed, they would never open again. And I couldn’t stop it from happening. When I did eventually wake up to Luca sitting beside me, I was so damn thankful. I don’t know how I would’ve possibly handled him lying unconscious in a hospital bed.
The doctor kept me for a few days for observation. Thankfully, the bullet went all the way through, and no major damage was done. He said the shot was one in a million. I’d be good with not testing those odds ever again.
Instead of heading back to the penthouse, Luca and Finn decided to have us stay at Finn’s estate outside of Boston, where we’ve been for the last two weeks. They aren’t sure how the shooter knew where we were, but best guess is they were watching Maeve and Cormac’s house for any signs of us. At least, we’re assuming they were after me and Luca since Eoghan found pictures of the two of us in the hit man’s car.
The one thing I know for certain, deep in my bones, is my brother ordered it. Though no one from the Cataldi organization will touch him with a ten-foot pole now, it’s not as though he couldn’t go out and hire any asshole off the street. Any reservations about what Finn and Luca plan to do to my brother when they find him were wiped away with that bullet. Not that I have any. We all know what being in this life means. My loyalty to my brother ended the day he was willing to give me away to our enemy. Before that, if I really think about it. My allegiance to the Monaghans was solidified the moment Luca told me what Carlo did to Alessia. I had a choice to make in that moment, and I chose my husband and his family. And I don’t regret it for a single second.
Since it’s been nearly three weeks since the shooting, the doctor has cleared me for light duty, not that I have anything to do in the house. Today, I decided to try my hand at baking. I called Isabella, and her mom sent me some of my grandmother’s old recipes. I’m assuming they were the ones my mother used to make with me in the kitchen when I was younger, but I really have no way of knowing. There are so many things I’ll never know about my mother, but Luca was right when he said we can separate the person from their mistakes and love them regardless. Today, the urge to somehow be closer to the woman who died with so many secrets is strong.
While I’m putting the finishing touches on the fiocco di neve, Finn and Alessia come back from their morning run.
“Oh my God,” Finn groans, walking up to the counter as I sprinkle the powdered sugar on the pastries. “Is this what it's like being married to a proper Italian woman who actually cooks?”
I laugh and shake my head. I swear this man loves to goad his wife into an argument any chance he gets.
“Keep it up, husband, and I’ll be sure to have Giada bake these for your funeral next week.” Alessia shoots Finn a sharktooth smile while her eyes stare daggers into him.
“You love me too much to ever kill me,” Finn replies, walking over to give his wife a smacking kiss on her cheek. I’m honestly surprised he has the balls to stand so close to her.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear.”
Luca enters the kitchen in a pair of gym shorts with a tight workout shirt stretched across his broad chest. God, he looks edible. It’s been weeks since we’ve been able to have any more intimate moments together. Luca sleeps next to me every night, but he hasn’t touched me since the shooting. Yes, there’re sweet kisses every day and lingering looks, but other than that…nothing. I realize I was just given the okay, but he’s been treating me like a fragile glass figurine, as though if you knock into me, I’ll fall and shatter.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, coming up and giving me another sweet kiss on the mouth. He pops one of the bite-sized pastries in his mouth and lets out a nearly indecent moan. God, what I wouldn’t do to feel that moan on my body. He licks the sugar from his lip, and I’m staring at his mouth so hard Alessia clears her throat and sends me a knowing look.
“What do you say to some target practice?” she asks.
“That sounds like a great idea.” That’s what she does when she’s stressed or is trying to work something out in her head. Seems like I could use some of that.
“Are you sure that’s okay with the doctor?” Luca asks.
I swear, the first time I attempted to brush my damn teeth, he asked if it was “doctor-approved.” I told him yes, that five out of five dentists recommend it. He didn’t find it amusing.
“I spoke with Dr. Simmons two days ago. He said I was fine for light work. I told you that.” Irritation is evident in my tone, but he’s acting like a mother hen at this point.
“Is shooting considered ‘light?’”
“If it aggravates my shoulder too badly, I’ll stop. Deal?”
“I don’t know abo—”
Before he can finish his sentence, I shove a fiocco di neve in his mouth. “I said I’ll be fine.” I turn to Alessia. “Come on. I want to see your present from Finn.”
When we get downstairs to the range that doubles as a safe room, Alessia pulls out the custom 9mm Finn had made for her birthday.
“Isn’t she pretty?” Alessia says when she hands me the gun. I make sure it’s pointed at the ground when I take it from her grip and promptly check if it’s loaded.
“Good girl,” she says with a wide smile.
“I don’t know much about guns.” I look at the engraving. “My heart, my loyalty, and my life,” I read out loud. “That’s sweet.”
Alessia smiles. “My husband can be quite the poet when he wants.”
Handing the gun back to Alessia, I stare at the wall of firearms.
She grabs a .22 and hands it to me. “I think this one is good enough for now. Less kickback.”
I load the gun and grab ear protection while she loads a paper target for me. As soon as I begin firing and my sole focus is on hitting the target, my worries begin to melt away. The only thing I’m focused on is keeping my arm steady and my aim true. Well, as true as it can be for someone who’s only had about a week’s worth of practice. When I press the button to bring the target back to me, I see I hit the paper seven out of ten times.
“You’re getting better. I think that’s the most you’ve hit in one go.”
“I have a good teacher,” I say, smiling at Alessia.
“So, what’s really going on? I sensed a little tension upstairs.” She nods toward the floor above us.
Letting out a sigh, I set the gun on the counter and turn to her. “Luca’s just being overprotective, and it’s starting to wear on me.” She offers me a sympathetic smile as I continue. “We’re safe, but he’s acting like Carlo is going to jump out of the shadows at any second and finish the job himself. Or I’m going to start bleeding out if I move wrong. I mean, I appreciate having someone worried about me, but I want a partner, not an overprotective father.”
“I can understand how that would be frustrating.”
“Was Finn like that with you after everything that happened with my brother?”
“Not to the same extent, no. But Luca isn’t Finn, and I wasn’t the one lying in a hospital bed. You didn’t see him when we brought you in, honey. I’ve never seen a man more scared that the woman he loves is going to die before he’s had a chance to live a life with her.”
“He’s never said he loves me.”
Alessia laughs. “That doesn’t mean shit.,” she says, waving her hand. “I knew I loved Finn way before I told him. I knew I wanted a future with him, not because I was tied to him for our business's sake, but because I couldn’t imagine another man on the planet making me feel the way he does. Physically and emotionally.”
I groan in frustration. “That’s another thing that’s bugging me. The doctor told me three days ago I was fine to resume normal activities, and Luca acts like we never had that conversation.”
“Ahh, I see.”
“See what?”
“You’re horny.”
“Oh my God, Alessia!” I exclaim with wide eyes. “That’s not what I said.”
Her laughter booms off the steel-reinforced walls. “You didn’t have to. Listen, talk to him about it. Maybe he’s taking his cues from you and he doesn’t think you're ready.”
“Talk to my husband? What a novel concept.”
When we’ve finished with target practice for the day, we head back upstairs in search of our husbands. My shoulder is a little sore, but that’s to be expected for a few more weeks yet. Not that I’ll tell Luca. He’ll just fuss over me some more.
Alessia knocks on the door to Finn’s office and opens it to find him and Luca.
“Fuck. I feel like we’re missing something. The asshole’s out there somewhere,” Finn says to Luca.
“What are you guys doing?” Alessia asks, rounding the corner of her husband's desk to have a seat on his lap.
“Trying to figure out where the hell Carlo is hiding,” Luca answers as I have a seat on the leather club chair next to his.
“Me and Mario have had guys on all his known associates, even the other capos, to make sure they weren't blowing smoke up our asses at the meeting, and we haven’t seen any sign of him. We’ve been searching every known Cataldi property and still nothing,” Finn says, frustration lacing his words.
“Can I see the list of properties?” I ask.
“Sure.” Finn hands me a piece of paper with all the businesses, houses and any other piece of land my family owns. I look through every listing, most of them I don’t recognize since I was never privy to the daily operations of the business, but I notice one missing.
“There’s a lake house we own that isn’t on here. My mom used to take Carlo and me there…” A memory I’d long since buried surfaces; it’s of the last time we were there. “We were there right before my mom died.” I look at Luca. “Marco was with us. I remember walking into the kitchen late one night because I wanted a drink. They were standing there, and he was holding her. I didn’t see them kiss or anything, but when she saw me, she pushed away from him and rushed over to me. I remember being a little freaked out from her over-the-top reaction, worried I was in trouble for being out of my bed. But Marco was staring at me with this big grin on his face.” My hand comes to my mouth. “Do you think she told him I was his daughter that night?”
Luca reaches over and grabs my other hand, kissing it softly. “She could have. Her letter made it sound like she was going to.”
“I remember my dad coming the next day with three of his men. He was so angry, not in a yelling kind of way, but with that quiet rage that used to scare me. He put Carlo, me, and my mom in the car, and on the drive home, I remember my mom crying silently in the front seat. I was so mad at my dad for not comforting her, but I was too scared to say anything. When I saw my mom later, I asked where Marco was and she told me he got another job. She died in a car accident two days later. Or what I thought was a car accident.”
“Why are there no property records for the house?” Finn asks.
“I have no idea. I don’t even remember exactly where it is. I know we passed through a little town called Shine to get there though. I thought that was a neat name for a town when I was little. That’s where we’d stop and grab groceries. The house was maybe another half hour from there.”
“I’ll call Ozzy,” Finn says. “He might know where you’re talking about. Fuck, he’s gonna be pissed. If that’s where Carlo is, he was right under their noses the whole time.”
While Finn is on the phone, I turn to Luca. “Who’s Ozzy?”
“Remember the MC president your brother pissed off?”
I nod. “Why he went on the run?”
“Yeah. Ozzy’s president of the MC and the woman your brother tried to sell into the skin trade is his woman.”
Holy shit. It’s a small freaking world.
Finn disconnects the call and rubs a hand over his face. “Lake Masqak. He said that’s where a bunch of rich assholes own vacation houses, and it’s about twenty-five miles north of Shine with nothing in between.”
“That has to be it,” I say, looking between Finn and Luca.
“Would Carlo be that fucking brazen to stay so close to Shine?” Finn asks.
Luca and I answer with a resounding yes.
“He probably knows there’s no record of my family owning the place, and it’s not like we ever went back after my mom died. Plus, if he’s there, he’s getting some sick satisfaction knowing he’s so close and we have no idea.” Disgust laces my words with the knowledge Carlo could be there, that his presence is tainting a place that holds memories with our mother. He doesn’t deserve to be there. Not after…everything.
