I nod absentmindedly, knowing his overprotective tendencies might only get worse after the birth.
We pull into a gas station and Enzo runs inside to get his cigarettes. I take out my phone and start browsing baby names. We'd talked about our choices, but we'd decided to hold off choosing a name until we meet our little boy.
I'm scrolling down a list of names when a sudden noise startles me. Raising my gaze, I see Luca being held at gunpoint as he gets out of the car.
At the same time, the door to my right is ripped open and I'm being dragged out. I start screaming, my hands immediately going to protect my belly.
The man pushes me to the ground and I fall on my knees, the cold of winter hitting me suddenly, the freezing snow under my body somewhat cushioning my fall.
"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" He curses out and the back of his hand catches my jaw, snapping my face to the side with a strength that makes me see stars.
No... my baby.
My arms are wound around my body as I try to shield him.
The other man brings Luca forward, and their movements are so swift I can't follow, but suddenly Luca is in front of me, taking a bullet to the chest.
A bullet meant for me.
My eyes widen, my mouth opening on a scream that won't come.
Another slap and I feel myself slipping.
"This bitch got nothing on her. No cash no valuables," I hear one man speak just before another gunshot rings out. And another.
I open my eyes to see both men on the ground, bleeding profusely.
A crazed Enzo rushes towards me, taking me in his arms and rocking with me.
"I'm fine," my voice trembles as I try to assure him. "The baby's fine."
Taking my face into his hands, he lays kisses all over my skin.
"God, Allegra. For one moment I thought I lost you." He rasps out, his eyes misty.
Another car pulls up in the parking lot, and I see the rest of our bodyguards run towards us.
Too late.
Enzo's expression changes immediately. Gone is the worried lover, replaced with a cold killer. Even in my shocked state I can see that he's not thinking straight.
"Enzo, don't. Please don't," I beg him, recognizing he's on the verge of snapping. "I'm fine, really. Let it go."
But he doesn't.
He lifts me up and places me in the seat of the car, locking the doors on his way out.
"Enzo, don't!" I knock my fists on the window as I watch him walk towards the men — his men — with measured steps. One smile, and he draws his weapon.
The men — three in total — barely have time to react as Enzo executes them on the spot.
I keep on screaming and kicking at the glass, even though it's futile.
Why?
Too spent from crying, I continue hiccupping as I watch in dismay how Enzo stuffs the bodies inside the other car before returning. He takes Luca's position in the driver's seat, and I can only stare in shock at the man before me.
Who are you?
I thought I'd seen a ruthless side of Enzo when he'd killed a man in cold blood just for touching me. But this... There's simply no excuse for this.
"It had to be done, little tigress." He angles the mirror to look at me.
There's only disgust as I look at him so unbothered, so unconcerned with having just killed five people.
"Why?" My voice sounds broken under the weight of too many tears.
"I don't expect you to understand. Everything has consequences in our world. Life in the famiglia..." he trails off, but I've heard enough.
The famiglia, the ever important famiglia that values cruelty over humanity.
When another car arrives, Enzo finally starts driving, leaving behind the scene of the massacre.
I stare out the window, my tears dried up, my heart in shambles — disappointed, desolate, and heartbroken.
But it's not until I feel a sudden wetness coursing down my thighs that I start panicking, realizing that, indeed, all actions have consequences.
And my husband's will be rewarded as such.
"Enzo, hospital, quick! My water broke!" I breathe in deeply, trying to calm myself.
"What?" His eyes widen, but he's already doing a U turn. "Are you ok? You said everything was fine!"
I don't answer, instead focusing on regulating my breaths.
"Enzo," I finally speak, in between sighs, "if anything happens to this baby, you're dead to me." Almost hysterical at this point, I keep my hands over my stomach, praying everything will be ok.
Dear God, if my baby is fine, I'll do it. I'll take the deal. And go as far away as I can from here.
Anything to make sure my child doesn't become like his father. Because then... my heart would be dead and buried.
I may love Enzo, but I love my baby more.
THE MOMENT WE PULL into the parking spot, Enzo scoops me up in his arms, running towards the ER.
I'm hyperventilating, thinking something might have happened to my baby. His due date is in a few more weeks. This wasn't how it was all supposed to go.
I'm taken to the maternity ward, where I'm told that they have to induce labor to ensure that the baby is fine.
Terrified, I clutch on to Enzo's hand.
"My baby..." I cry out, the thought that something might have happened to him killing me.
"He'll be fine." Enzo tries to assure me, but I'm past the point of ration.
"It's all your fault," I whimper as they plug me to some machines to keep track of my heartbeats.
"Honey, you need to calm down. Your pulse is through the roof and it's not good for the baby," one of the nurses tells me, teaching me a few breathing techniques.
I start breathing in and out, still not letting go of Enzo. He's there with me through the whole ordeal — me cursing him out, telling him he should die and that I loathe him with all my being.
He doesn't respond. He continues to hold me and to whisper encouraging word in my ear.
Even when my labor starts, he doesn't budge from my side.
"You can do it, little tigress. You can do this," his voice somehow soothes me, even when my mind is away from this reality.
At some point I start pushing.
For what seems like hours, or days, I'm in a state of confusion, physical and emotional strain. My body feels at its limit, and my mind is about to snap.
My breath ragged, sweat clinging to my skin and tears dried on my cheeks, I keep pushing.
Until I hear a tiny wail.
"Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Agosti." I hear the doctor say before a tiny human is placed on my chest.
"You can have a few moments before we weigh him and make sure he's healthy given the late preterm delivery."
I nod absentmindedly. For the first time, my mind clears as I look into the sweet face of my son. He's moving on my chest, his eyes closed, his mouth half open, almost as if trying to grasp at something. From the corner of my eye I see Enzo come closer, offering his little finger for him to hold on to.
"Thank you," his voice is low and full of emotion, tears at the corners of his eyes. "Thank you for the most wonderful gift, little tigress."
I don't acknowledge his words. Instead, my focus is on my little human.
"What will you name him," a nurse comes to check on us.
Enzo's brows furrow, since we haven't decided yet.
"Luca," I say suddenly. "For the man who saved us." Enzo freezes when he hears that, understanding the double-meaning of my words. Enzo may have been the one to save us, but he'd unleashed an unnecessary blood bath. Luca's sacrifice had been heroic and devoid of cruelty.
"Luca it is then," he nods, and I detect a hint of hurt in his voice.
"Wonderful name. I'll take little Luca to get him cleaned before we do the health checkup."
When the doctor informs us that Luca is fine, both Enzo and I breathe a sigh of relief. And with that happy tidbit of information, I can finally fall asleep.
It's only when I wake up that
I realize Enzo must have called Lia to sit with me. She's propped on a chair, almost dozing off.
"Miss," she jerks out of her chair immediately as she sees me awake, rushing towards me to give me a hug. "Oh, Lord, I can't believe you're a mother now," she continues to kiss my cheeks, saying a short prayer for me.
"Me neither, Lia." I smile at her, happy to have her by my side.
At least Enzo had been true to his word, and he'd gotten Lia to move in with us for my pregnancy. I don't think I could have done this without her — not when I started panicking at every little thing.
"And Signor Enzo adores you. Who would have thought that a disaster would turn into a miracle?" She continues to gush, and I refrain from telling her that it's the opposite. What had started as a disaster had devolved into hell.
"He does, doesn't he?" I mutter, but Lia doesn't get the irony dripping off my words.
A while later, a nurse returns with Luca, and I cradle his little body to my chest, trying to feed him from my breast.
That's how Enzo finds me — naked from the waist up, Luca's mouth latched on to one breast, suckling. He stops in his tracks, and his eyes rove over our bodies, a satisfied smile stretching across his features.
"This is the most beautiful sight," he whispers as he comes closer, brushing his hand over Luca's brow.
"Do you want to hold him?" I ask when Luca's done feeding, already deep asleep.
"Can I?" Uncertainty is written all over his face as he looks between Luca and I. I nod, deep down thinking he won't have many chances to do it in the future. And as I see him carefully lift the little bundle in his arms, his eyes so full of love, I waver. Just a little.
Dear God, am I doing the right thing?
He walks around the room with Luca in his arms, all the while whispering words of love in his ear.
Tears suddenly flood my eyes, and I avert my face.
"Hey, are you ok?" He quickly comes to my side, caressing my hair.
"Yeah, it's nothing," I sniffle, "just hormones."
That and seeing Enzo with our son is breaking my heart — especially given the decision I've made.
The next few of days are the hardest. My body took a toll with the birth, and I'm barely starting to recover. Enzo is a constant presence at the hospital, so it doesn't give me an opening to contact the agent.
When at my last checkup the doctor declares me fit to be discharged in a couple of days, I take advantage and ask Enzo to get me some clothes, saying I only trust him. When he's finally gone, I ask Lia to go get me some very specific food, ensuring she's going to be gone for a while. I don't want to implicate her in this, and it's better if she doesn't know anything.
The salon finally empty, I fish out my phone and dial Agent McNaught.
Luca is sleeping peacefully in my arms, and his pure little face, the way he is still innocent of the evils of the world, strengthens my resolve. I can't let my son to be brought up in a culture that looks down on women and glorifies cold blooded killing.
I won't let him end up like his father.
The agent answers on the first ring.
"The offer," I start faking a nonexistent confidence, "I'll take it."
"You're doing the right thing, Mrs. Agosti," he assures me after we hash out some details.
"I'm in the hospital now, but I have the list of locations at home. I can get it to you as soon as I leave the hospital."
"Can you do that? Safely?"
"Don't worry about my husband, agent. I can handle it." I answer.
He proceeds to tell me about our meeting place and that I'll be taken into protective custody immediately.
"Just... I need my son to be safe."
"He will be Mrs. Agosti. That I promise."
HANGING UP, I GET OUT of bed and put Luca in his little cradle. A smile pulls at my lips as I watch his sleepy expression. My fingers trace his features, noticing both Enzo and me in him. I know that babies' eyes tend to change color, but Luca's seem to be the same spring deep green like his papa's. Somehow this tugs at my heart strings, as I realize I'll forever see Enzo in Luca.
When he's older, maybe he'll understand me and why I had to do this. Maybe he'll hate me, but maybe someday he'll forgive me.
At least he'll never become a criminal.
I lay a kiss on his cheek and I move back to my bed, stopping when someone enters my salon.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, shocked to see the one person who should have been my dearest friend but ended up being my worst enemy.
Chapter Twenty
ROCCO DECREES I NEED to go to New Jersey just as Allegra is about to get discharged from the hospital. Since he won't take no for an answer, I quickly dial her to let her know.
"Yes," she answers, her voice odd.
"I'll be away for a couple of days. But I'll see you at home, ok?"
"Take your time," she replies, asking no questions. I frown, but shrug it off.
I go about my work, aiming to finish the meetings faster, and get home earlier. I already miss Luca, and it's barely been half a day since I've seen him.
With Luca's birth, Rocco had officially initiated me into the unsavory part of the family business. Seeing that I'll be taking over the clubs in Midtown, I'd decided to surprise Allegra with our very own apartment, away from my father and everyone else in the famiglia.
I know I screwed up when I killed those men in front of her, and I doubt she will forgive me anytime soon. But I'll still do my best to make her see that everything I do is for her.
Everything.
The thought that something could have happened to her had paralyzed me with a fear I'd never known before. I'd reacted the only way I knew how — with bloodshed.
I need to make it up to her.
As soon as I'm back home, I go to our room, looking for Allegra and Luca. The room is empty save for a cradle in the corner. I take a few steps.
Surely she wouldn't.
But as I reach the little bed, I see Luca deep asleep, completely unattended.
"What the fuck," I curse, lifting him in my arms and holding him close.
Taking him with me, I run into Ana and I demand to know where Allegra is.
"She's having tea with your father in the conservatory." She says, and I feel my rage mounting.
"And who was watching Luca?"
She shrugs.
"I thought Signora Allegra was."
I head to the conservatory, shocked to see Allegra and my father discussing as if they're long lost friends.
"Allegra," I call out, my voice curt.
"Son, there you are. We were just talking about my grandson." He guffaws in his fake manner.
"While he was all alone in the bedroom?"
"Well, nothing happened, he's fine," Allegra finally speaks, eyeing the baby in my arms for the first time. I turn to her, only to be hit with such a strong disgust as I take in her features — oddly smug and heartless — or the way her body language tells me she couldn't care less about Luca.
"He's not. Why not let Lia watch him if you needed some time alone?" I probe further, incensed that she'd think it's ok to leave a newborn — a premature one at that — alone and unattended.
"Oh, you didn't hear?" She tilts her head to the side, her eyes slightly hooded as if she's trying to feign concern. "She had a family emergency in Italy and she had to leave. I couldn't keep her here. Not when her family needed her more than I."
"Why wasn't I made aware of this?" What sort of alternate reality did I walk into?
She waves her hand dismissively.
"You know now," she says, and my father interjects at the same time.
"Come on, son, no harm done. Let me take a look at my grandson." He rises from his seat, coming next to me to peer at Luca.
"He takes after you," he comments, and I just grunt, pissed off about everything.
Allegra also stands up, and I offer Luca to her, knowing he loves to feel his mother's warmth. She makes a weird face, but she awkwardly takes
him in her arms.
Just as he's settled against her breast, he wakes up and starts wailing.
"I think he's hungry," I add, and Allegra surprises me by thrusting Luca back into my chest.
"Give him something to eat then."
"What? He needs breast milk, Allegra. From you." I almost roll my eyes at her.
Is this her way of punishing me for my wrongdoings? Because it's definitely working. But she shouldn't involve Luca when this is strictly between us.
"The doctor said my milk wasn't good enough and we should switch to formula," she quips, pouting as her brows go up in professed innocence.
"Really?" I drawl, narrowing my eyes between the two of them.
With Luca still crying in my arms, I head back inside the house, intent on finding some formula to feed him.
And just as I thought — there's none.
What the fuck!
"Shh, little one," I try to coo to him while I dial Nero to get me a lifetime's supply of formula.
Luckily, he's fast and I'm soon able to feed Luca.
How did it get here?
I'm holding my two week old son as he sucks on his baby bottle, everyone around me completely disinterested — including his mother.
The odd behavior persists, and it's like Allegra can't bring herself to look at Luca. She always finds an excuse to leave the room when she sees me with him.
It's even worse during the night as she'd declared from the very beginning that she's not sleeping in the same room as him because it would upset her sleeping schedule.
I'd stared at her dumbfounded, convinced there was something seriously wrong with her.
Nevertheless, I'd taken Luca to my room and proceeded to feed him every two hours, barely getting any sleep.
At some point, sick of this new attitude of hers, I confronted her, only to be met with a soft derisive laughter. She'd said I was imagining things.
The internet had been a little more enlightening, and I'd started to believe that maybe she was suffering from postpartum depression. Why, with that traumatic event and the subsequent birth, I don't blame her. So I'd decided to give her some breathing room, hoping that at some point she'd come back to us.
Still, that means I'm taking care of Luca full time.
Morally Decadent (Morally Questionable Book 3) Page 27