Chapter 33: Married With Malice: Chapter 32

The doctor confirms that Anni’s injuries will all heal, but this doesn’t stop me from wishing to resurrect Albie Barone so I can kill him again.

After I call Cale with a terse rundown of recent history and caution him to remain on high alert for now, I hand my phone to Monte and ask him to field incoming calls for a little while.

“You got it,” he says, glancing at his shirtless brother sitting in a dining room chair and being examined by the doctor who finished setting Anni’s shoulder moments ago.

Her sisters are upstairs with her now, fussing over her and helping her dress in comfortable clothes as we await the arrival of Vittorio Messina.

“Told you the freaking bullet barely clipped me,” Nico grumbles but he’s still looking a bit peaked as the doctor finishes a series of stitches.

“Do you need a bucket, little brother?” Monte says. “You don’t want to puke on Mrs. Barone’s pricy throw rug.”

Nico flips him off. Monte laughs.

“Hey.” I knock a hand into Monte’s chest. “Hate to interrupt all this brotherly affection, but I need to thank you both. I owe you more than I can say.”

When Monte and Nico heard that I planned to charge straight into the lion’s den for Annalisa, they absolutely refused to be left behind. Every step of the way, they’ve had my back. Indeed, there are no words sufficient for that kind of friendship and loyalty.

Monte chooses a somber handshake to mark the moment. “It was an easy choice, Luca.”

“Wouldn’t hesitate to do it again,” Nico says, grimacing as the doctor snips off the final stitch.

Every few minutes my thoughts darken with the reminder that Albie Barone’s body is stiffening on the floor of Anni’s old bedroom. I’m not sure whether word has leaked that he’s dead. Right now we’re all still waiting in limbo. With Richie’s life still hanging in the balance, there will be a power vacuum in both families. At the moment, Giulia Barone seems to be in charge around here and she plans to wait for her formidable brother to show up before making additional plans.

Big Man Bowie jogs into the room and is thrilled to find us here. He’s wearing a pink and white striped apron that’s about eight sizes too small and likely belongs to our mother-in-law. I suppose it was all he could find.

“Hey guys, I just cooked up a pile of hamburgers with seasoned wedge fries. Come to the kitchen and grab some.”

Bless his heart for being eager to make a contribution. Monte snorts laughter through his nose but Nico is more pragmatic.

“I could eat,” he says, climbing off the chair, still shirtless but with his battle wound now treated and wrapped. “Lead the way.”

“Wait.” The doctor chases Nico down the hall while waving a piece of paper. “Here’s your prescription for antibiotics.”

Monte turns to me and claps a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll keep you updated. Go take care of your lady. She needs you.”

It’s difficult not to feel a tad restless when I remember that outside the house there are an unknown number of Barone loyalists who wouldn’t mind seeing me dead.

However, they’re standing down until they figure out where Vittorio Messina fits into the equation. Among Albie’s capos and underbosses, not a single one springs to mind who can easily assume control of the empire. That was always a flaw of his, promoting men who were callous yet stupid.

In the foyer, I run into Sonny again. He’s standing guard at the door and the nervous sweat shining on his face indicates he’s unsure of his status in light of the new realities.

He has good reason to be nervous. He’s not exactly my favorite person today. Anni swears he didn’t mistreat her and asked me not to hurt him but I’m not cutting the guy any additional slack.

Sonny didn’t draw his gun or put up a fight when he saw us coming and I could swear he looked relieved. However, I’ll never trust a man who abducted my wife in her bathrobe on the orders of her maniac father. The only grace Sonny gets from me is a curt nod.

The murmur of female voices draws my gaze to the top of the grand staircase. A memory stirs and I flash back to the night I stood in this very spot and waited to escort Anni to her prom.

On that night, she descended the staircase as haughty and untouchably gorgeous as a grand duchess. I watched her with teenage amazement, utterly spellbound, even when she glared my way with venomous dislike.

The night didn’t end the way I’d hoped but I still treasure that memory of Annalisa walking down the staircase.

Now she gets all of my nights.

She holds my heart in her hand and she can do with it whatever she likes.

Anni has ditched the bathrobe and looks more comfortable in an oversized hoodie and leggings. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. There’s a sling on her right arm to keep her shoulder immobile. After placing an ice pack on her cheek, the swelling on her face has receded a bit. She moves cautiously, escorted by her sisters.

When I see her injuries, the twist of agony in my gut is real. My job, from now until forever, is to love and protect her. I’ll never fail again.

Anni is halfway down the stairs and giggling over something Sabrina said when she sees me watching at the bottom. She lights up with a brilliant smile.

I wait for her on the bottom step and coil my arm around her waist to steady her. “How do you feel?”

“Tired and sore. But grateful.”

She tips her face back and waits for a kiss. She gets one. She gets them all.

Sabrina wrinkles her nose and sniffs the air. “Is someone actually cooking…hamburgers at a time like this?”

“What better time is there?” I say.

Daisy beams. “Exactly!”

Rapid footsteps come from the corridor. Anni’s mother appears. She seems nervously excited as she motions to her daughters.

“Girls, your uncle is here.” She claps her hands at Sonny. “What are you waiting for? Open the door right now.”

There hasn’t been much time to ponder what to expect from Vittorio Messina but the man who walks in definitely missed his calling as a community theater Count Dracula. From head to toe he’s swathed in black Armani. His black hair is slicked back and untouched by grey. Thick gold rings decorate most of his fingers and he’s tall enough to meet me eye to eye.

He embraces his sister first. They greet each other in Italian, kiss cheeks and then he holds her at arm’s length. His features harden into ferocity when he notices the damage to her face, courtesy of her late husband.

Though my Italian comprehension is rather lackluster, I can pick out words and phrases in their brief conversation. Vittorio is pleased Albie Barone is dead. He’s also swearing to take care of his sister and his nieces.

He didn’t come alone. There’s a whole entourage of expensively dressed men standing by and awaiting instructions.

Anni’s mother points upstairs. Vittorio nods and snaps his fingers. Two of his men rush to his side. He fires out orders so rapidly that I can’t be sure what going on but I believe it has something to do with the dead body hanging out in Anni’s old bedroom.

I glance at Anni, knowing that she likely understands more than I do. She’s listening patiently without any signs of worry.

Sonny, meanwhile, believes there’s plenty to worry about. He retreats an inch at a time and keeps looking from Vittorio’s men to us and back again, wondering whether he’s going to live to see tomorrow.

He’ll be fine, but I have no problem with letting him sweat it out for a little while.

Four members of Vittorio’s crew proceed up the stairs and now Anni’s mother turns to us. Anni told me she hasn’t seen her uncle in well over a decade. Her mother speaks the names of her daughters with pride while I try to gauge Vittorio’s mood.

Lately I’ve acquired more skills when it comes to measuring the intentions of men. I don’t miss the way Vittorio’s shrewd black eyes assess us one at a time. Those eyes linger on me for the longest, judging my worth the same way I’m judging his.

“And this is Luca Connelly. Annalisa’s husband,” says Anni’s mother.

Vittorio isn’t the type to offer a handshake. He stares, waiting for me to blink first. When I don’t, the corner of his mouth quirks.

“You look like your brother,” he says in mildly accented but perfect English.

He gets credit for catching me by surprise. “You’ve met Cale?”

“A couple of times. Years ago. I hear he’s retired now.”

“Cale keeps busy,” I reply, hearing my own wariness creep in. “But he stays out of New York.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Vittorio says. “I plan to stick around for a while and I could use a man like Cale Connelly.”

“That’s nice of you to say. It would be even nicer to hear that my brother doesn’t have any reason to look over his shoulder whenever he leaves his house.”

He waves an impatient hand. “Barone’s grudges are not mine. They won’t be continued from the grave. If your brother’s looking over his shoulder then it won’t be because of me.”

One of the men who went upstairs a moment ago returns and approaches Vittorio. They converse quietly for a few seconds. The man nods and pulls out his phone as he heads for the door.

“My condolences,” Vittorio says, addressing us all. “For the unlucky accident that made my sister a widow today. Apparently, Barone was cleaning a loaded pistol and mistakenly pulled the trigger. Do I have the story correct?”

“Yes,” Anni says. “That’s exactly what happened, Uncle Vittorio. And I was so startled by the noise that I fell down the stairs, bruising my face and dislocating my shoulder.” She lets out a theatrical sigh. “As you can imagine, we’re all shocked and in deep mourning.”

Vittorio gives his niece an amused smirk. “Your father’s body will be taken away shortly. And of course we’ll respect his wishes to be cremated immediately. I’m already taking care of the details to save my sister the trouble.”

“Thank you, Uncle Vittorio,” Anni replies smoothly. “We’re all very grateful that you’re here.”

Vittorio must be confident of his connections. After today, there will be no body. No evidence that would cast doubt on the official version to be shared with the public.

“Oh hey, I didn’t know we had more company.” Big Man Bowie strolls into view and slings an arm over Daisy’s shoulders. He grins at the newcomers. “How do you guys like your burgers? I’ll just whip up a few more.”

Vittorio gawks at this apparition of a smiling, aproned burger chef. He seems genuinely puzzled.

I’m not sure what Anni’s uncle says next because I’m distracted when Monte quickly approaches with a tense look on his face. He holds my phone out. “You should call your aunt.”

Vittorio’s glittering black eyes swing to me as I take the phone. With my arm around Anni, we walk down the hall together in search of a little privacy. We wind up in her father’s office, which feels strange.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be alone right now?” Anni asks.

I pull her closer. “Never,” I say and inhale her sweet warmth, taking the luxury of a kiss before dealing with the unpleasant chore ahead.

My aunt doesn’t answer her phone. Instead my cousin Bianca picks up and can hardly stop hyperventilating long enough to say, “You should come to the hospital, Luca, if you want to say goodbye.”

Though I have no special wish to see my uncle on his deathbed, I suppose some closure is in order. With Anni in obvious pain, I tell her she doesn’t need to go with me if she doesn’t want to. In response, her eyes shine with that familiar stubbornness I love so much.

“I’m going wherever you go,” she says.

No argument from me. I don’t want to be separated from her either, not even for an hour.

Vittorio authorizes three of his men to escort us to the hospital. I’m not expecting any trouble but it’s good to have the backup. We bring the Castelli brothers with us too and on the way Monte gets me up to speed on what he knows.

Richie is obviously in his last hours. The whole upper echelon of the family enterprise has been hollowed out so there’s already chaos in the ranks.

This doesn’t concern me at all.

The whole damn gang of them can fight over the scraps of Richie’s empire like wolves competing for a bloody carcass. Without my uncle’s threats hanging over my head, there’s no motivation for me to pretend I’m still one of them.

The waiting room at the hospital looks like a casting call for a mob film. Although I nod at the familiar faces, I sidestep all questions for now. Rumors have begun to spread that Albie Barone is no longer in the land of the living. I’ll leave it to the Castelli boys to explain about Barone’s fatal ‘mishap’.

Because we qualify as immediate family, we’re taken right up to Richie’s room. The surgery didn’t go well and he never woke up after hitting the pavement outside Greasy Vito’s. His brain activity is flat and he’s being temporarily kept alive with machines until Aunt Donna gives consent to pull the plug.

She’s inconsolable, clutching me and crying so hard she’s shaking. “You find whoever did this, Luca.”

“It’s taken care of,” I assure her.

Not exactly a lie.

The responsibility for Richie’s fate lies mostly with Richie himself. Soon, he and Albie Barone can argue about it in hell.

Nearby, my dejected cousins are being comforted by their husbands. They’re startled at the sight of Anni with her sling and her bruised face but nod absently when she explains she simply had an accident.

I bring my wife with me to say goodbye to the man who raised me. A single chair is parked beside Richie’s hospital bed. Though Anni insists she’s fine, I want her to sit. As I stand behind her, I gaze at my uncle one last time.

He’s so small and weak lying there, barely alive, attached to machines, his skin already turning a mottled grey. It’s almost hard to believe he’s the same man who was a nightmare for so many, including me.

My hand rests on Anni’s good shoulder. She reaches up and squeezes my fingers to give me strength as I bid my uncle farewell.

“Richie, I meant everything I said to you today. I did love you like a father. But you know what? Now I’ll be relieved when those beeps on the screen over there go flat and you’re gone. And yet I can’t deny that I owe you one considerable debt. If not for all your scheming, I wouldn’t have Annalisa. She’s my world now. So thank you for that. I’d tell you to try and explain yourself to my mother when you see her, but you won’t be seeing Angela at all, not where you’re going.”

The monitor that was beeping steadily briefly accelerates, but within seconds it returns to the baseline. I know it’s just about impossible that he heard me but I like to think he did. He deserves to know where he stands before the end comes for him.

I’ve said what I needed to say. Now I just want to get away from the antiseptic smell, the sound of the machines and the sight of the shriveled man in the hospital bed.

Anni gazes up at me with sadness when we’re outside the room. “Are you okay?”

I take a big gulp of air and hug my wife to my chest, careful not to jostle her sore shoulder as I gently rock her in my arms. “We’ll both be okay, Anni.”

We remain there in the hospital hallway until the bitter end, partly out of courtesy to my aunt and cousins.

But mostly because I want to make sure the son of a bitch is truly dead.