I give her a grateful smile as I lay the monitor on my lap.
“Please, help yourselves to the food while we chat. Drinks, gentlemen?” Killian motions to the waitress, who is standing by a liquor cart.
She nods, rolls it to the table and starts taking drink orders.
Sandro’s blue eyes glitter as he takes a sip of the bourbon he ordered then folds his hands on the table. “I hate to be impatient, but my wife isn’t by my side at the moment, and I’d like to change that.” He winks at Lennon then turns back to Killian. “So, what’s up?”
There’s some clattering of utensils as the men add some of the food to their own plates.
Killian glances at me. “You all know that Sam was the target at the wedding, yeah. But you don’t know the why. I think it’s best if Sam tells that story, and then we can chat about what it means for all of us.” He gives me an encouraging nod. “Go on, love.”
All eyes fall on me. Lennon reaches over and grasps my hand, which gives me a shot of courage.
I bite my lip. “Okay.” God, where to even begin? I raise my eyes to Sandro. “You know your father sent me here from New York. What you don’t know is I ask him for help to hide. To hide from a man named Michael Barone. But he’s found me.”
It takes me twenty minutes to tell them about my time as Michael’s captive.
At the point in the story about Michael chaining me and raping me until I was pregnant, Lennon must notice I’m dissociating. She makes me stop and go to the restroom with her, where she guides me through some deep-breathing exercises to help me reconnect with my body. Then I wash my face with cold water, and we return to the table.
Killian scrambles up, his face pinched with worry and pushes my chair in as I sit. Leaning down, he whispers in my ear, “You’re doing grand, brave girl.” Then lightly squeezes my shoulder before taking his seat.
Having his support fills me with the courage to go on. I lift the monitor off the table and face it toward the men. “This is Rona. She’s two.”
Lennon’s breath catches in her throat. “You have a daughter?”
Her eyes are wide as I turn the monitor so she can see better. A huge smile lights up her face. “You have a daughter. She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say. Then turning back to the men at the table, I add, “I was hiding her, but Michael’s men found her and Celia, the woman who helped me escape and is like a grandmother to Rona. Rona’s here with me now but his menhave Celia. I honestly don’t know if she’s still alive, but I owe her so much. We have to help her. Either way, Michael cannot get his hands on Rona again.”
Sandro’s expression is tense, his voice laced with quiet rage as he says, “We will do everything in our power to make sure that doesn’t happen.” He looks at his men, concern burning in his blue eyes. “The only problem I see here is Dr. Sam mentioned organ trafficking. That wouldn’t be happening in New York if it wasn’t sanctioned by one of the families. The question is which one?”
Caelian nods in agreement. “And how far will they go to keep this Mr. Barone happy if he’s the one providing the merchandise.”
“We’ll have to talk to Father,” Rocco says, tossing down his napkin. “See how much he knows about this.”
Sandro checks his watch. “He’s probably still up, I’ll give him a call.” He excuses himself and walks out onto the deck, two guards trailing close behind.
Lennon turns to me, her eyes gleaming with something soft despite the situation. “Tell me about Rona.”
There are multiple conversations going on while Sandro is gone. Killian is standing, talking to Gunnar and Rocco, but his eyes always drift back to me. Big Tony is standing with two of the guards, a serious undercurrent to their conversation. Caelian and Fausy are hunched over a cell phone, their expressions tight. I wonder if they’re looking up Michael.
Sandro returns, his face like a thunderous cloud as he rubs his forehead. He walks straight to Lennon and rests a hand on her shoulder, as if he needs her strength or is protecting her from whatever he’s about to say.
Everyone returns to their seats and gives him their attention.
His eyes soften with regret as he looks down at me, and I know this isn’t going to be good news. “Michael Barone works for the Amato family. He brings in millions for them, so he’s got their full support and resources at his disposal. Our father can’t interfere more than he already has by helping Dr. Sam hide.”
“Fuckin’ Amato,” Rocco spits from the other side of the table. “He’s always been a piece of shit.”
Sandro nods in agreement and turns his attention to Killian. “The best our father can do is try to get you an audience with Joey Amato, ask him to handle Michael, get him to let Dr. Sam and her daughter go.”
Killian’s nostrils flare. “I’ll not be askin’ for Barone to let the girls go. I’ll try diplomacy first. But that man will not be walkin’ the same earth as Sam anymore, no matter what Amato says.”
“Agree. The cocksucker needs to be executed. I’m in,” Rocco speaks up.
Sandro sighs as he glares down the table at his younger brother. “Father specifically said to tell you to stay the fuck out of it.” He glances at his other men. “None of us can get involved without starting a war in New York.”
“It’s best I go alone, anyway,” Killian says. “Less of a threat, more of a conversation. And what will he want in exchange?”
