Ruthless Monarch

“We need to move her,” he says. “Carefully.” Together, Lorenzo and I take Viviana and place her inside the back of the SUV. I get in with her, holding her head. She’s unconscious. I press my finger to her neck, making sure she’s alive.

For now, she is. But with each second that passes, her heartbeat’s softer and softer. The good thing is, the compound is less than a mile away. It’s one of the reasons we chose this location. It feels as though an eternity passes as we drive the distance.

Each second hammers on longer and longer.

I can’t stop seeing her jumping. I can’t stop hearing her scream. This whole time, I thought it was her, when, in truth, it was me. My man was the traitor. The trust I put in my man is the reason Viviana is lying in my arms bleeding out.

It should be me.

I should be the one shot.

I will never forgive myself if she dies. I know that with every ounce of my life.

And after this is done, I will burn everything down to the ground to stop my cousin, to stop Marino.

To seek vengeance.

Not just for what they have done to me, but because of this.

I should have trusted her, but I didn’t.

I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove to her that I love her. Trying to be a better man for her.

I place a kiss on her lips.

Her head is resting on my lap. She doesn’t move, but for now, she’s still alive.

My finger still feeling the pulse that keeps her breathing. Even if it’s slight, it’s there.

Soon we are pulling into the gates, and then we are on the driveway.

My doctor is already there.

There’s a gurney ready to whisk her away.

“Throw in an IV,” he shouts. “Move! Move! Move!”

Everything happens so fast from that moment on. One minute she’s lying in my arms with her head on my lap, and the next, she’s in the house, and I am standing there on the circular driveway wondering how the fuck this happened. Lorenzo walks up to me.

“She’s going to be okay, Boss.”

“She better be, or there will be hell to pay. How did this happen? How didn’t we know . . . and how did she?”

There are huge gaps in the story here. Ones I need to find out.

“Where is he?”

When we left the field, we left all the other men behind with the traitor.

“On their way. Should be a few minutes behind us.”

There was no time to wait before.

“I want him in the basement.”

“In a cell? Or in the room . . .”

He doesn’t clarify which room, but we both know which room, the torture room.

Yes, I kept my uncle’s room in the basement intact.

As did my father.

But only for the guilty.

And Eddie . . .

Is that . . .?

The car pulls up then, kicking gravel up.

The piece of shit is lugged out of the car once it pulls to a stop. His face bleeding, his shoulder bleeding from what I can only presume is a gunshot wound from when he tried, unsuccessfully, to fire another shot to kill me.

Lorenzo signals my men to take him to the basement. “Tie him up.”

That’s all he says. They know the orders now. I start toward the house, walking in the door, and heading to the opposite end of the building.

I don’t need to tell anyone where I’m going. It’s written all over my face.

When I throw open the doors, I see the glass that protects the room.

I can see the doctor already pulling away her clothes and starting to work on her.

There are chairs in the room, but I can’t sit.

How can I? There is too much energy coursing through me.

I pace back and forth.

I want to punch someone. I want to punch the shit out of the fuck in my basement, but I need to make sure my wife is going to be okay first.

“Any news, Boss? What’s going on?” Lorenzo walks up behind me.

“The doc hasn’t come out yet or updated me, but it looks like she’s in surgery.”

I start to pace. There is too much nervous energy inside me to stand still.

“Matteo, you can talk to me,” Lorenzo says, and I turn to look at him.

Like me, Viviana’s blood is all over his clothes. I shake my head. I can’t talk. I can’t find words. My throat feels like it is closing up, like it is filled with cement, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t break free.

“I know you’re my boss—” he starts to say, his eyes heavy and thick with pain. He’s afraid too. He cares for her too. “But you’re my friend first.”

My chest expands as I take a deep breath, forcing the words out of my dry lips. “I can’t lose her.”