I closed my eyes and wet my dry lips. “But?” I knew there was more.
“The first bullet hit father, and the last got Francesca and she’s dead, too.” I slowly opened my eyes and stared at my sister. “Father is dead.”
I waited for the shock of that to hit me, the sorrow, that sadness of losing a parent. There was… nothing.
She looked down at her hands, her fingers twisted together in her lap. “Is it bad that I don’t feel anything?” Her voice was low, strained.
“Oh, Claudia.” I tightened my fingers around her thigh until she glanced up at me. “I don’t feel anything either.” I rested my head fully back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. “In fact,” I said harshly. “I’m glad he’s gone.”
I should’ve felt callous for saying that, but I felt so numb at the moment that I didn’t want to bring up any of that. I didn’t want to talk about my father or what he’d done with Francesca.
I know if I hadn’t stopped her she would have shot Claudia, maybe even my mother, God maybe Nikolai if she’d been quick enough. I was glad things happened the way they had because if not everything would’ve been so much worse.
I closed my eyes and breathed through my nose slowly. “He was a bastard. Cruel and heartless and deserved what he got.” I squeezed my eyes tighter and felt acid rise up my throat. “Francesca was lost, lost in the grief and her love for a piece of shit who could never give her the love she deserved.” I rubbed my hands over my eyes, my chest tight. “How is mother?”
When I heard Claudia sigh I opened my eyes and looked at my sister. “She’s fine. Shaken up, but I'm pretty sure it’s not because she saw father bleed out in the foyer.” She gave a humorous laugh and shook her head. “I’m sure she’s trying to process everything that Francesca told her, although you and I both know he was no saint, and obviously didn’t take his marriage vows seriously.”
She ran a hand over her face and for the first time I noticed the dark circles under her eyes.
“I can’t believe he was having an affair with Francesca of all people, and when they started she was so young.” Claudia made a disgusted face. “And the baby, Amara..” She looked at me with sad eyes. “She was pregnant. Possibly with father’s baby–”
“--hey, let’s not think about any of that. Because at the end of the day it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”
“He could have survived,” Claudia whispered, her eyes wide.
“What do you mean?”
She moistened her lips and looked at the closed bedroom door. “Father.” She glanced back at me. “He might have survived, but Nikolai wouldn’t let the doctor he brought in help. Nikolai demanded he only focus on you, and told everyone to stay where they were. No one, not the staff, not us, were to call anyone for help. He said he’d take care of everything.”
My heart was beating a mile a minute at the revelation.
“And as the doctor was working on you, Nikolai had the coldest look on his face as he stared at father, who was bleeding out all over the tile. Mother was crying and kneeling beside him, but she wouldn’t touch him, just kept shaking her head and staring at where Francesca lay dead.”
My breath hiccuped in my chest. Oh God. Nikolai had let our father die, and had watched him. And I knew why he’d done it, why he hadn’t saved Marco. Because if my father died at the hands of Francesca, this way it wouldn’t cause a war between the Cosa Nostra and the Bratva. It would look like Francesca, a scorned lover, had shot my father and killed him in a fit of rage.
If Nikolai had killed a Capo in the Cosa Nostra, family or not, alliances or not, our families would have been at war. The organizations would be at war.
And as I thought about all of that, as I thought about the circumstances that led up to it all, and pieced together the calculation Nikolai had done to make sure my father died the way he had, my chest felt like it was closing in.
“Oh hey, I didn’t tell you to upset you, Amara. Calm down. Calm down. It’s okay.” She softly murmured and pulled the blanket up to my chest.
What I knew, and what I wouldn’t tell her, was that what I felt right now had nothing to do with being upset our father died and Nikolai could have prevented it. No, I felt like this, felt like I couldn’t breathe, because Nikolai had done what he’d done to ensure Claudia was safe.
He did this for me.
“You need to rest. I can tell you’ve probably been up since all this happened.” Her shoulders sagged and she nodded once more. “How long have I been out anyway?”
“Three days.”
God, I’d lost seventy-two hours and I had no recollection of anything but pain and drifting away.
“But now that you’re up and talking, and look relatively well, I feel like I could probably sleep for a month.” She gave me a small smile. “Besides, Nikolai asked,” she rolled her eyes and murmured, “demanded more like it, that I let him know the moment you were up. He’s been pacing this bedroom the entire time. The only reason he’s not here right now is because his brother flew in from New York and he and Nikolai are speaking with Gio in the study. Now that father is gone Gio has taken up Head of the Family. I’m sure they have to get their houses in order and what this all means for the organizations.”
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Amara
A month later
I heard Sasha whine at the door and got off the couch, my hand going to my side instinctively because I knew the movement and shift in position would tug at my still healing wound.
But I kept my expression neutral, not wanting Nikolai, who was just in the kitchen and on the phone, to see the discomfort on my face. All that would accomplish was him narrowing his eyes, growling low, and hovering over me as he demanded I stay on the couch with my feet propped up.
Even after a month, healing was slow going, and at this point I was frustrated because I felt like an invalid thanks to Nikolai not letting me so much as put my own shoes on.
And then there was the no sex rule he’d put in place until I was fully healed.
A month with no sex. Four weeks of not having my very ravenous husband touch me in a way that would get me off. And God did I want to get off.
I turned on the video monitor for the security camera outside the door, saw Dmitry staring at the lens with a smirk on his lips, and hit another button to unlock the door. I could still hear Nikolai speaking in the kitchen, but I also felt his gaze on me. Nothing got past him.
After taking a step back, the door swung open and Dmitry strode in. He crouched immediately in front of Sasha, started murmuring and cooing in Russian to her, then kissed the top of her head right between her ears before rising once more.
Sasha whined and moved over to me, butting her sleek head against my thigh and looking up at me.
“She’s always in a grumpy as fuck mood when I come and get her, like she’s pissed at me for taking her away.”
Nikolai stepped out of the kitchen, pocketed his phone, and came to stand beside me. He slipped his hand up my back and curled his fingers around my nape.
Dmitry snorted. “You’re so fucking possessive.” He clicked his tongue and Sasha gave another whine but trotted over to him. He started speaking to Nikolai in Russian, and the entire time he stroked his fingers over the back of my neck. The longer he did that, the more I grew aroused, wet and achy between my thighs, annoyed because I knew he wouldn't do anything about it to ease my frustration.