With a grunt, Ian steps back, inclining his head. “You’re right. I know better.”
“Instinctual, I understand.” I wave off his unspoken apology, because I do understand, but fuck if I’m able to let that shit stand. Not on my watch.
Tucking my knife away, I sit back down, pulling the folder in front of me again. Once Ian retakes his seat, I continue,“We’ll discuss interpersonal relationships after the individual case histories—trust me, those are going to be even more fun for you. But since Sandro is an issue, let’s tackle him next.”
The room stays quiet, but I don’t let it deter me. I’m ready for this shit to be over. I speed through Sandro’s individual information, and then I wait. This time, it’s Reid who speaks up, which doesn’t surprise me.
“There’s pieces missing from this.” His eyes flick up to me, compassion swimming in them, just based on the limited background I gave.
With a sigh, I gesture to Dr. Ranlen. She leans forward, grabbing their attention. “Sandro is complicated. No, we did not include everything regarding him. It took something very unethical to essentially shock him out of the PTSD situation he was in after the kidnapping. It…broke him. He is no longer Il Padrone. Hell, he no longer even goes by Allesandro. What we have is someone who is very fractured, whether that’s good or not, I’m not sure at times.
“This is a man who has done unimaginable things. His father was an evil bastard; may he rot in Hell. What that young boy went through… And yet, he created a found family. One that from an outsider’s perspective looks abusive. However, if you talk to the Boys, you’ll hear more about the good he did than anything else.
“You’re facing an uphill battle because Sandro shattered, and he is in the process of finding out who he is now. The only things that remain true, at this point, is his love for his Boys, and his complete devotion to Lio.”
“Then we work with him,” Anderson says with a firm nod, sending a challenging glance toward his Daddy. Ian doesn’t look thrilled, but faced with his stubborn Boy, and Reid, he folds.
Thank fuck, because I can’t have anyone here who won’t extend a chance to these fuckers. They’re all messed up, and I was serious about them getting help, however I need to do it.
I open the next folder and we continue slogging through the information. There’s a common theme. Shock at the varied traumas. Insistence on clarification. Quite honestly, at one point, I felt like screaming that the fuckers are not good guys, of course they have histories. But I pushed it back.
When we close the last file, I glance around the room and clasp my hands together.
“Not everyone was given a folder. There are a couple of people that we are still waiting to onboard that I want specifically for others. I plan to put Brannigan with Marcus. Monroe, of course, will be with Cole. And Atticus will focus on Cristian. Brannigan and Atticus can take on additional clients as well, so do not feel you need to overload your plate. I would rather bring in more therapists than have any of you struggle.
“You’re here because you are the best. Each of you has something unique that you bring to the table that we need. That being said, while I’ve made suggestions, that’s all they are.
“Speak up if you’re not comfortable with your patient. As always, finding the right fit between patients and mental health professionals can be a challenge. I expect that. None of these patients are easy cases.
“You will be given a bodyguard to make sure you are safe. And while Doc runs the main clinic, and I’ll be running the mental health aspect, please know you can come to either of us. Dr. Ranlen will, at some point, be leaving us for another position, but I believe there are plans to onboard more medical professionals as well.”
“And please know, if you need something, just speak up to anyone. Staff, the Council, it doesn’t matter. We want this to work,” Dr. Ranlen adds in perfectly. “I think this is an excellenttime to stop, get some lunch, and then break down interpersonal relationships…which basically boils down to almost everyone has fucked everyone.”
The therapists all laugh at that, lightening the serious mood, but us three doctors exchange a look. There’s a reason we brought in white boards. We know how close that comes to being the truth. Flow charts, hierarchies, and rules of fucking are all going to need to be covered.
Rules like how, supposedly, you don’t touch one of Hollis’s harem without his permission. Would have been nice to know ahead of time, but meh. No regrets. And if Jude keeps flirting with me, well… I guess Hollis and I will get to play a game of guess whose knife wins.
For now, it's time to refuel and recharge before getting into that whole ball of fun. At least, we already asked the kitchen to prepare us a meal. Although, I do hope there’s a basket of baked goods from Sandro. The guy really can bake. Maybe fixing him isn’t worth it if he can keep cranking out treats like this.
Ugh, stupid ethics. It's not my decision now anyway, but good luck to Ian, and whichever individual therapist claims him. Fuckers have way too much to dig into. They’d better not discourage his baking though…
Waiting makes me agitated, and I pace back and forth outside the surgical suite. A hand on my arm pulls me to a stop, and I meet Nicolo’s eyes. “You’re limping, Sir. Neither Doc nor Antonio will appreciate you hurting yourself. When was your last appointment with Jayden?”
“I’m fine.”
He stares at me, and I can feel Nario’s eyes on me as well. I sigh. “I’m okay, promise. I’ll see Jayden soon, we’ve all just been a little busy. And…I’m worried.”
It’s a hard thing to admit, but I know I’m not the only one who wants our Bel Fiore to come out of surgery and be back in our arms.
“It should be over soon. The doctor said it’ll only take a few hours.”
“I know…” It doesn’t help. Not when I know how important this surgery is to my Bel Fiore. His confidence dwindled after that bitch marked him up, and seeing him so unsure of himself has made me wish I spent more time making Cecily bleed.
I pull Nicolo into my arms. “Thank you, Stella. For trying to keep me grounded.”
“I care about you, Sir. I know you’re worried, we all are, but it’s going to be okay.”
I nod, leaning in to kiss him gently, because what else can I do? There’s nothing to organize or strategize, and no one to kill. I have to put my Boy in the doctors’ hands and wait for them to help him in ways I can’t.
