Emily had grown attached to me. The moment she saw me, she'd reach out, babbling, demanding to be held. Chloe worried Emily would yank out one of my tubes and wouldn't let me hold her, but she couldn't stop a father and daughter who wanted to be together.
Emily took after me, though. Strong as hell. Once she nearly ripped the oxygen tube out of my nose. I jerked so hard my abdominal wound flared up, and I grimaced in pain. Chloe watched from the side, her expression flickering between concern and wanting to laugh.
The days in this room were the closest I'd ever come to happiness. Even wrapped in bandages and painkillers, even when laughing hurt enough to make me want to curse, I felt this goddamn hospital room was the best place I'd ever lived. Because she was here. They were here.
But nighttime belonged to a different Enzo.
When Chloe and Emily fell asleep, I'd carefully pull the phone from under my pillow. Screen brightness at minimum so the light wouldn't wake them. Then I'd open the encrypted app and send instructions to Kirill.
Kirill was my final piece planted next to Julian. He'd been Julian's personal bodyguard for four years without slipping once. Julian even considered him a confidant, bringing him along for meals and drinks.Of course, to avoid exposure, we'd barely contacted each other all these years.
After receiving Luca's instructions, Kirill had already attempted two assassinations. Both failed. He wasn't a natural killer. Another attempt might blow his cover.
But Julian had to die.
This wasn't about hatred. I didn't have energy left to hate anyone. It was a pure, cold calculation based on survival.
As long as Julian lived, Chloe and Emily couldn't be truly safe. He'd already sent Carmine's elite squad. They'd nearly killed all three of us. Next time, he wouldn't make the same mistakes. He'd send more people, better plans. Next time, Chloe might not be so lucky. Next time, Emily might not just be scared.
I couldn't allow a next time.
I spent five days in this bed crafting the plan. Every detail examined repeatedly. Timing, location, method, and cleanup. Everything precise to the minute. Kirill was the executor, but every move was mine to make from this bed.
Chloe didn't know any of this. She thought after she fell asleep, I did too. She didn't know that after she closed her eyes, the recovering new father beside her became someone entirely different.
I needed to assess every potential threat in the family. Identify every name that needed to be eliminated.
On the seventh night, Kirill sent his execution report.
Julian raised his glass at a family celebration dinner. Before drinking, he even stood to give a speech about "new eras" and "family renaissance." Then he drank.
The toxin worked fast. Kirill wrote in his report: Target showed symptoms approximately ninety seconds after consumption. Finger twitching first, then full-body convulsions. Finally collapsed onto the banquet table.
People thought it was a heart attack. By the time the ambulance arrived, he'd stopped breathing.
I deleted the message after reading it, shoved the phone back under my pillow, and turned to look at Chloe curled up sleeping onthe cot beside my bed. Her breathing was steady, lips slightly parted, one hand resting on Emily's small body.
Julian was dead. The threat eliminated.
His life had always been mine to take. That fool always thought he was so clever, assuming I hated him. But I'd never considered him a rival.
I hadn't touched him simply because there was no need. And I'd always blamed his hatred of me on Carmine. We were both victims. Apparently, he didn't see it that way.
After Julian's death, Luca and Kirill went to New York and conducted a thorough purge of the family according to my plan. Everyone loyal to Julian and Carmine's old guard was eliminated or brought in line.
The entire power structure was reorganized within two weeks. The Falcone family now had one voice. And that voice belonged to a man lying in a small North Carolina hospital, tubes running everywhere.
Four weeks later, I could finally get out of bed.
The first time I stood, my legs nearly gave out. Chloe caught me. I leaned on her shoulder and managed three steps before gasping for breath. The abdominal wound throbbed dully, but not like before.
Enemies eliminated. Family stable. Wounds healing. And my two most important people right here.
I stood by the window, watching sunlight fall across the parking lot asphalt. Behind me, Chloe was changing Emily's diaper in the chair, muttering something about holding still. Emily wasn't cooperating, legs kicking everywhere. Chloe held her belly with one hand while fumbling with the diaper tabs with the other. The sight made my mouth curve involuntarily.
I had to make a decision. One that had already formed in my mind.
I was going to marry her.
