After six hours, Fausto came out of surgery in stable but serious condition, and was taken to the ICU. The doctors explained the bullet went in through his back and out his side, and Marco had likely saved Fausto’s life by packing the wound with the sponges in the car. During the operation, they repaired one of Fausto’s kidneys and a torn portion of his small intestines, and removed his gallbladder. They were optimistic about his recovery, but the risk of infection was high.
He hadn’t woken up yet, and they were keeping him on a ventilator for now. But he was alive. Pale, but alive.
We arranged for a large private room, one with a small bed for me. Guards were posted outside the room and throughout the hospital itself. Anyone coming into Fausto’s room had to wear special identification, including doctors and nurses. Considering Enzo had escaped, we weren’t taking any chances.
Zia began praying over Fausto’s prone form, while Giulio and I talked quietly off to the side. “I will have someone bring you clothes,” he said. “Anything else you want from home?”
“I’ll text you a list. Has there been any word from Marco?”
“Yes. It was a professional. They found his location, up on a rooftop across the street from your doctor’s office. Probably hired by Enzo’s men as a diversion from the attack on the castello.”
I rubbed my eyes, trying to take it all in. “And Enzo?”
“We don’t know. I can’t imagine he’ll stay in Siderno. It’s too dangerous and he’s too weak. My guess is he’s being taken back to Naples.” He hugged me. “We have to focus on Fausto right now. Thankfully, it looks like you won’t be a widow quite yet, matrigna.”
“I feel as though today has taken several years off my life.” I leaned into his solid warmth. “Thank God he let you come with us. I’m so glad you were here.”
“Same, bella. I’ll take Zia home and we’ll return in the morning.” He kissed my cheeks. “Try and get some sleep.”
“I will. You too, G. Stay safe. We have a long road ahead of us.”
Nesto poked his head in, takeout containers in his arms. “Signora Ravazzani, I brought food.”
I let go of Giulio and held out my hands. “Bless you, Nesto. I hope there is pasta in there.” With Fausto now out of surgery, I felt like my stomach could finally handle food.
“Just as you requested. And plenty of tiramisu.” He gave me the containers and kissed my cheeks. “Take care of Don Ravazzani for us.”
“I will. Grazie, Nesto. Seriously, this is amazing.”
“Prego, signora. We are all thinking of you and praying for the don’s recovery.”
“Please, call me Frankie.”
Giulio made a hissing noise through his teeth, then barked orders at Nesto. When the younger man left, Giulio frowned. “They must respect you. Do not get close to them. Let them address you properly as the don’s wife.”
“Aren’t you being a little harsh?”
“You and I must hold everything together until Fausto recovers. No one can suspect we might be weak. This world, it preys on weakness. Marco will help, but we are the Ravazzanis responsible for the future. It falls to us to carry on when my father cannot, capisce?”
This version of Giulio was worlds away from the one who’d splashed me in the water and helped me buy lingerie. He was deadly serious, his shoulders stiff with the weight of all that rested upon them. I gave him a grim smile. “I understand. This isn’t going to be easy for you, is it?”
“No, but it is what’s expected.”
“I’ll help you.”
“Good, because those spreadsheets and stock reports are like Japanese to me. I’ve never been good with numbers.”
Math wasn’t my best subject in school, but I wasn’t terrible at it, either. And I remembered my lunch with Zio Toni. Talking over the business stuff had been interesting. “I think I can handle the legitimate side with Toni.” Probably.
“And I’ll handle the other side.”
“I can help with the ’ndrina business, too.”
Giulio immediately shook his head. “Fausto would kill me. You stay clean and out of prison.”
“G—”
“No, Frankie.”
I gave him my sweetest smile. “We’ll discuss this later.”
“You’re going to be a pain in my ass, aren’t you?”
I sobered, realizing this wasn’t the time for teasing. He had enough to worry about that I didn’t need to add to it. “No, we’re a team. I only want to help. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Certo,” he said and kissed my cheek.
Then Giulio wrapped an arm around Zia and pulled her away from Fausto. “Domani, domani,” he kept telling her. She wasn’t happy, but she finally kissed my cheeks and left. Then I was alone with my husband.
The beeps and whirs echoed in the empty room as I went to his side. Only his chest moved as air was forced in and out of his lungs, his face serene. I placed a kiss on his forehead, letting my lips linger on his warm skin to reassure myself he was still here. Still alive. I never wanted to relive a day like today ever again.
“Paparino,” I whispered. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
I took a shower, finally changing out of the bloody clothes and into a pair of scrubs they gave me. Then I ate dinner and sat with Fausto some more. I considered the tiny bed awaiting me, but I was wound too tightly. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Fausto on the ground, bleeding out. Or in the car, his blood seeping all over my hands.
Sleep would not come anytime soon.
I went to the door and found the soldier stationed there. “Stay with him, Carlo. I’m going down to the cafeteria for coffee.”
“I will get you coffee, signora.”
“No, that’s all right. I need to walk around a bit.”
Carlo motioned to the young man stationed at the end of the hall. “Leo will go with you.”
“I’ll be fine. That’s not necessary.”
“Signora, Marco and Giulio will gut me like a fish if you go alone.”
I took pity on him. Carlo was just trying to do his job. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
I smiled at Leo and let him follow me to the cafeteria. When we arrived he waited near the entrance, his eyes roving as he checked the area. There weren’t many people there at this hour, just a few women milling about and some nurses laughing together at a table. I went to the cappuccino machine and began making three cups, one each for me, Leo and Carlo.
A woman with a baseball cap on her head came to stand next to me. I switched out the cup and started another one. “I’ll just be another second.”
“No problem, Signora Ravazzani.”
She knew me? Surprised, I glanced over and came face-to-face with Agent Rinaldo.
My muscles tightened. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I thought with what happened today you might be ready to chat. It’s not too late for us to help you.”
“You have to be joking. I married him.”
“The marriage can be annulled.” Her gaze searched my face from under the bill of her hat. “You don’t realize how close you were to getting shot, do you? Two inches to the right and that bullet would have torn through you and your baby.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but now I couldn’t think of anything else—and it made me very angry. What right did this woman have to come to the hospital where my husband almost died and say these things to me? She was trying to scare me, to get me to betray Fausto.
I considered alerting Leo, but I really couldn’t handle any more bloodshed today. So I hurried with my task, ready to get away from the agent as quickly as possible.
She continued, oblivious to my mounting fury. “Is this a risk you want to take with your child?”
“Don’t presume to know what is best for my child—and I’m not leaving my husband, ever. You are wasting your time.”
“You are making a mistake, Frankie.”
I sneered as I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “That is Signora Ravazzani to you. Stay the fuck away from me and my family, Agent Rinaldo.”
I grabbed my cups and hurried toward the register. Flustered, I reached for my wallet . . . and realized I didn’t have one. “Perdonami,” I told the cashier and looked up for Leo. “I forgot my money.”
She waved me off. “That is not necessary, Signora Ravazzani.”
How did she know . . . ?
Oh. I supposed everyone in the hospital knew who I was.
“No, please. We can pay.” I didn’t like the idea of getting things for free because of my husband’s last name.
My last name now, too.
Leo arrived and held out a few Euros. “I’ll pay you back upstairs,” I told him as we walked away.
“That is not necessary, signora. It is an honor.”
“Well, this is for you,” I said, lifting one of the three cappuccinos.
“Grazie,” he said as we walked back to the elevator.
The antiseptic smell clung in my nostrils, a perfume of loss and pain, a cocktail of human suffering that lingered inside these walls. I could still remember visiting my mother, holding her thin hand and crying. The twins hadn’t visited as often, so I’m not sure what their memories were of Mamma’s last weeks, but seeing her waste away had been fucking awful.
The elevator doors opened and we stepped in. I had to forget those memories and forget about Agent Rinaldo. Only my husband mattered right now.
Time moved slowly the next few days.
They took Fausto off the ventilator two days after his surgery. Not long after, his eyes fluttered open. There he was, alive and still with me. I pressed my forehead to his cheek. “Ti amo, baby.”
There wasn’t much more to say than that, because he drifted back into unconsciousness. The knot in my chest eased a tiny fraction. Our problems were far from over, but it was good to see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at me once again.
We decided I would spend nights at the hospital, while Zia would sit with Fausto during the day. This would allow me to go home and clean up, as well as see to the estate and business matters during Fausto’s recovery. The doctors were keeping him heavily sedated for the time being and they didn’t anticipate him leaving the hospital for at least a month.
Marco and Giulio took over Fausto’s office, the two of them sequestered in there for hours at a time. I knew they were trying to find the shooter and Enzo, as well as going over other mafia business. Every time I asked about what was going on, they evaded the questions, clearly trying to shield me. Except there was no reason to shield me any longer. I made my choice when I married Fausto, then again when I cursed out Agent Rinaldo in the hospital cafeteria.
Still, Giulio was steadfast in his refusal to involve me.
Zio Toni took me under his wing. He came over and met with me in my new office, which had been an old library that no one used anymore. We walked through all the legitimate businesses—the number of which absolutely made my head spin—and he shared the financial documents with me. I spent one whole day just trying to wrap my brain around Fausto’s laptop, including the bizarre naming system he used to keep the Guardia off his ass.
If nothing else, this experience taught me that my man was clever.
And rich.
I knew he was rich, but this was on another level. He owned companies throughout the world with hundreds of thousands of employees, and this didn’t include the illegitimate businesses. Those made money hand over fist. Put it all together and I couldn’t even fathom his net worth.
I enjoyed the work. It gave me something to do, something to distract me from worrying about everything else going on. The first thing I did was tackle his email in-box, which was something of a catastrophe. Fausto wasn’t big on responding, clearly, which left tens of thousands of unopened emails. The number of notifications made the back of my neck itch.
“You can see he’s old school. He prefers to talk rather than write,” Zio Toni said with a chuckle when I pointed this out.
“But how does he know there isn’t something important in here?”
“He waits until I call him to tell him something important is in there.”
I rubbed my forehead and stared at the overflowing in-box. “Isn’t that incredibly inefficient?”
“Yes,” Toni said without hesitation. “But I can’t get him to change, no matter how many times I bring it up.”
“He needs, like, an executive assistant to manage his shit.”
“I agree, but he’s too paranoid to ever hire anyone to do it.”
This I believed—and Fausto’s paranoia was hardly unwarranted. Enzo had stolen thirty million Euros from him recently. Did Toni know? I didn’t ask. It wasn’t my news to share, if Fausto hadn’t confided in Toni. Besides, someone had helped Enzo steal that money. Until we knew who, I was keeping that information to myself.
Guilt settled in my stomach like a stone. Would Fausto’s cousin really betray him?
Jesus, I didn’t know. I hadn’t thought anyone would dare an assassination attempt in broad daylight on the street, either. Showed what I knew.
“Well, I’ll go through his email for now,” I told Toni. “Then, while I sit with him at the hospital, I can go through the larger issues and type out his responses.”
“Va bene, signora. That would be a big help. In the meantime, you can sit in on the meetings, take notes, and relay the information to him as you see fit.”
I could do that.
While I hated the reasons behind my involvement in Fausto’s business, I was excited to help. I didn’t want to be a clueless mafia wife, whose only purpose was to raise babies and look good on my husband’s arm. That would drive me slowly insane. I needed to do more and this was the perfect way to contribute.
Toni set me up with a separate email and calendar just for me. The next day I began joining conference calls and introducing myself, taking notes and learning who was who. Most everyone conducted business in English, and Toni hired translators for those who didn’t.
I was in the midst of a call with a chemical company in Germany when Giulio walked in. He looked terrible. Like he hadn’t slept or showered since before Fausto’s shooting more than a week ago. I frowned at him and made sure I was muted on the conference call. “Hey, G. Everything okay?”
“You know the answer to that.” He dropped heavily into a chair. “What are you doing?”
“Listening to a chemical company in Germany whine about the construction delays in their expansion.”
“That’s an excuse on the part of the construction company to drag it out and earn more money. The construction company is either one of ours or belongs to another ’ndrina, someone my father is doing a favor for. Ask them.” He nodded toward the laptop, where I had my video and sound off.
I unmuted and interrupted. “Excuse me, but what is the name of the construction company?”
“Bosporus Construction Limited, Frau Ravazzani,” someone answered.
Giulio gave a nod, then motioned for me to cut the sound. “That’s the North Rhine-Westphalia ’ndrina,” he said. “Papà’s undoubtedly given Bosporus the job in trade for something else. I’ll make a call today, see if we can’t resolve it. That’ll be one less headache for you.”
“But one more thing on your plate.” I reached over and rubbed his shoulder, which was tight. “Should I be worried about you?”
“No, because it wouldn’t change anything. And I don’t want you under any additional stress.”
That didn’t reassure me in the least. I stood and began giving him a shoulder rub. “What about your stress?”
His head dropped forward and he groaned. “Mamma mia, that feels good.”
“I’m serious. Are you sleeping?”
“I’m okay. You have enough happening right now. Don’t worry about me, too.”
That was not a great answer. “Talk to me, then. How is it going? Can I help?”
“No, no one can.” He exhaled long and loud. “I keep thinking, this is my future. This is what it will be like when he steps down. Which he could do tomorrow, if he wanted. He has you and a new baby on the way. After almost dying, he might decide to hand it over to me.”
I didn’t think Fausto would do this. He was too much of a control freak to let it go, at least for now, but I could see a scenario where he slowly turned more over to Giulio in the next few years. “Is it so awful?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you.”
“But I want to know.”
“They know he’s hurt and they’re coming for us. For me. We’ve had three of our supply houses hit in the last two days, and it will only get worse. So I have to make a show of strength to prove that we aren’t weak. That I’m strong. It’s such bullshit. Like proving my manhood or something.”
“Gross.”
“Exactly.” He rolled his neck as I continued to rub. “I’ve tortured and threatened so many men in the last thirty-six hours that I’m sick to my stomach. I’d much rather sit in here and take conference calls and make stock trades. Use my brain instead of killing people.”
“You have to tell your father.”
“Sure, right. He’d love to hear it, no?”
“You’ve already proven yourself, G. You’ve worked for the ’ndrina for years. Marco has boys who could take over. So does Toni. This doesn’t need to fall on your shoulders.”
“You know Fausto better than anyone. Do you honestly think he’ll let a nephew take over?”
I grimaced. No, my man would not be receptive to this idea at all. “Probably not, but we can work on convincing him together.”
“I won’t put that on you. No, I need to stop complaining like a little bitch. I’m better off just accepting it.” He gave a rusty laugh. “Maybe I just need to get laid.”
“There’s always the hookup apps.”
“When the fuck would I have time? I’m guarded every second.” He scrubbed his face with both hands. “Another glimpse of my future as boss. Celibate, except for sleeping with a wife I don’t love.”
I lowered my voice. “You need someone on the estate. A man you can see here.”
“Someone I sneak off with, hoping not to get caught. Someone who can never tell anyone and risks death with every encounter. Sure, what man wouldn’t sign up for such an honor? It’s too depressing. Sometimes I wish—”
When he didn’t continue, I asked, “You wish, what?”
“Nothing. Forget it. Just pointless daydreams.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t look or sound fine. “I love you, G. I’ll find a way to help you. Let’s just get through this and get him home, okay?”
He reached to rub my shoulder as I had done with his. “Love you, too, matrigna. Now, the reason I came in here was to ask about Enzo. Marco wants me to sit with you and see if you can recall anything else from your captivity. Anything that might help us learn who the traitor is.”
“Traitor? You mean the person who helped Enzo steal thirty million Euros?”
“That, and everything else. How was Enzo’s crew able to get onto the estate, get into the dungeon, and carry him off? And at the exact time Fausto was shot, no less.”
“A misdirection, Marco called it.”
“Yes. And someone helped to facilitate your kidnapping. The cameras cut out at very inconvenient times.”
“Then it’s whoever was on the cameras.”
“It’s not that clear. Vic was on the cameras when you were kidnapped, but he wasn’t anywhere near the estate when Enzo was released.”
“I see.”
“Let’s focus. Anything else you overheard or saw with Enzo?”
I repeated what I’d told Fausto and Marco, which was all I knew. “Enzo wasn’t around much. He was mostly with his wife.”
“That’s what I thought, but I had to ask.” He pushed away from the table and stood. “Your conference call is over, by the way.”
Damn, I hadn’t noticed. I logged off from the conferencing software as Giulio walked to the door. “Can we have dinner together?” I shouted to his back.
“Can’t. No time. I’ll see you later, bella.”
I watched him slip through the door, not liking this one bit. I knew it wasn’t forever, just until Fausto returned, but something needed to give.
