Finally, my temporarily paralyzed chest muscles expanded, and I sucked in greedy breaths, only to cough violently as the polluted air filled my lungs. As more of my senses came back online, I felt a searing pain in my side, along with an intensethrobbing in my skull. Though I felt the vibrations of a moan roll up my throat, the sound never reached my ears.
Disoriented and walking the line of nauseousness with the stink of what I could only describe as burnt hair filling my nostrils, I attempted to move, but my body didn’t want to cooperate.
My muted cry of frustration floated toward the high ceiling.
This is it. This is the end.
Just when I’d made peace with the fact that today would be the date marked on my headstone—if Gio even bothered with the formality, given the current state of our relationship—arms wrapped around my chest from behind and began tugging me across the floor.
The room around me was descending into darkness, so when I turned around, I was unable to catch a glimpse of my potential savior, but what I did see was the trail of blood left behind in our wake.
There was just enough time to send up a desperate prayer before unconsciousness dragged me under.
If only one of us is allowed to survive, please let it be my baby boy.
Chapter 19
Gio
Rory’simpromptuvisittothe office put me in a foul mood, and I became a one-man wrecking crew, storming about the executive floor and taking out my anger on any employee unfortunate enough to cross my path.
How fuckingdareshe waltz in here and use our son to try to emotionally manipulate me after colluding with my uncle all these years. Even worse than her blatant betrayal was that, because I couldn’t stand his mother, I would never get to feel what it was like to have my son press against my hand from within the womb. She’d robbed me of an experience I’d been eagerly awaiting for months, ever since Rory mentioned those first flutters back in Colorado.
“My office. Now,” Matteo barked at me after one of the girls from accounting ran crying from the shared kitchen because I threatened to fire her for wasting perfectly good coffee beans when she burned the espresso she attempted to make.
Stomping behind my little brother, I muttered under my breath that if he wasn’t careful, I’d fire his ass too.
Not bothering to turn around, Matteo huffed, “Be my fucking guest.”
He paused on the threshold of his office, extending a hand, indicating that I should precede him inside. When I did, I stopped short, finding Enzo reclined in one of the chairs opposite the desk.
I scoffed. “What the fuck is this? An intervention?”
“No.” Matteo shut the door. “Though you could certainly use one.”
I walked to the wet bar to help myself to his personal stash of expensive scotch. “Listen, if this is about Cindy,” I began.
“Courtney,” Matteo corrected.
“Whatever her name is, I’m sure she’d be willing to forgive our little altercation with double her annual Christmas bonus.”
My brother hummed. “If we’re in the habit of buying forgiveness, what number shall I write on the check to secure Rory’s?”
Back molars grinding to dust, I bit out, “Keep that traitor’s name out of your mouth.”
“Little hard to do when Summer spends every waking moment over at your house taking care of her because you’ve all but abandoned your pregnant wife.”
As I threw my arms wide, the brown liquor in my glass splashed against the wall. “You wanna talk about being abandoned? Have you forgotten that she’s the one who fucking leftme? Or how she decided to join up with the uncle who’s trying to destroy everything we’ve built? She’s not the victim here. Not even close.”
Matteo pursed his lips together in disapproval. “All I’m saying is, if she were my daughter—”
“She’s not your daughter, though. But she is my wife, soI’mthe one who gets to decide how I handle her from this point forward. Your opinions on the matter aren’t needed or wanted. Is that understood?”
Enzo muttered, “Four years was almost enough time to forget how much of an asshole you can be.”
“Don’t start,” I snapped in his direction.
My cousin rolled his eyes, rising from his seat and buttoning his suit jacket. “Wouldn’t dream of it,Boss.” On his way toward the door, he said to Matteo, “Have fun beating your head against a wall.”
