Ruthless Monarch

With my head down, I whisper the rest of my secret. All of it. Every detail I know. When I finally stop crying, I sit quietly for a minute, wondering if he will say anything, but he doesn’t.

“Do you think Jonathan knows the truth? Do you think that’s why he did this? Because of his mother.”

“I don’t know, but when you’re up for it, why don’t you come downstairs and find out yourself.”

40

Matteo

* * *

As soon as Viviana falls asleep, I feather a kiss on her cheek, and then I tell the nurse I’ll be back.

I don’t like leaving her here by herself, but I know she’ll be okay.

When I’m downstairs, I let myself into the room where we are holding the bastard I now know as Jonathan.

Flinging the door open, I step inside.

He's been tied to the chair since he arrived.

He’s fully dressed still, but blood soaks the shirt.

I’m sure my men already patched his gunshot wound, but the wound could still be fun to play with if he doesn’t answer my questions.

“Jonathan.”

“Guess she’s not dead,” he chides.

I have to hold back from taking out his tongue. Unfortunately, he can’t talk without it. Instead, I’ll have to come up with some other means of torture.

I settle on a punch across his face.

Hard enough that he spits out blood, now there is more on his shirt.

He’s a fucking mess.

“Were you working for him the whole time?” He looks up at me, blood pouring from his mouth now. “I take it the answer is yes, seeing as who you are.” Jonathan's eyes go wide. “Yes, she told me everything about you. And yes, to answer the question you haven’t asked, she’s fine. Perfectly fine. You’re a lousy shot.”

“I wasn’t aiming for you.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” He shrugs. He’s not going to talk, at least not yet. He needs more time to stew.

“I’ll be back.”

That was a waste of time.

I head back up the stairs and into my makeshift hospital.

Viviana is still attached to all the machines and resting. Her eyes flutter open when she hears me come in.

“Everything good?” Her voice is drained of all energy. Raspy like she needs water.

I move to the side of the room and do just that, filling a cup and bringing it to her.

“Here. Drink this.”

I place a straw in the cup and tilt it so she can take a sip. When she’s done, I place it back down and then move to sit next to her in the chair.

“Can you sit with me?”

“I already was planning to stay here with you all night.”

“Can you sit here, I mean.” She pats the bed beside her.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please.”

I can’t say no to this woman. Not now. Not ever.

I give her a small incline of my head and then get into the bed beside her.

“You’re lucky this isn’t a real hospital.”

“We’d never fit in those beds.”

She’s right. This bed is a full size, which although a tight squeeze it’s at least doable.

“Sleep.” I place a kiss on her temple.

“What happened to Jonathan?”

“Don’t worry about him, right now. You need your rest.”

When her breath grows shallow, and she finally falls asleep, I allow myself to finally breathe.

I don’t think any more about Jonathan, Marino, or Salvatore.

I’m just happy to have her in my arms again.

The next morning comes before I know it.

When I open my eyes, I see that hers are still closed. She looks peaceful while she rests. I don’t want to wake her. She needs to gather her strength. We don’t have the luxury of not retaliating soon. This means the next few days are key to taking down my opponents. If she’s up for it, she’s going to need to come with me to talk to Jonathan. It’s all tied together. Her father, my cousin, and this would-be killer I have locked in a cage in my basement.

“Morning,” she says.

“Morning.” I gently pull her closer to me, careful not to hurt her.

“How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

“No. I’m okay.” She sighs into my chest, and I know, for now, she is.

Regardless of that, I also know now more than ever, I need to take care of the threat once and for all.

Viviana will never be safe in a world where her father walks free, nor in a world where my cousin breathes.

I need to kill them.

41

Viviana

* * *

Time moves rather slowly when you are confined to a hospital bed and can’t get up. But as the days pass, Matteo never leaves my side.

He reads to me, too.

Beside my bed is a stack of the classics.

All the books I grew up reading.

If there wasn’t a hole in my stomach from where a bullet was ripped out, I would say the time we’ve spent together in this room have been perfect.

There is one thing, though, and in the back of my mind, even as Matteo cares for me, there is also the issue of Jonathan.