Page 79 of Bellini Born

Pushing away from my desk, I flung open my office door.

A wide-eyed Camille watched as I made a beeline for the elevator.

The sliding doors parted, and I stepped inside. “I’m going upstairs. I expect not to be bothered again.”

She ducked her head in understanding.

We owned the whole building, and the top two floors were split into four penthouse apartments. Gio, Enzo, and I had each claimed one as a secondary residence within the city. The fourth should have belonged to Gemma by all rights, but before her departure for parts unknown, Uncle Dario kept her on a short leash, refusing to let her live anywhere but under his roof. He subscribed to the antiquated belief that women inside the mafia were nothing more than possessions—first belonging to their fathers, then to their husbands. When it came to my own daughters, I couldn’t bear the thought of them spending the rest of their lives as nothing more than caged birds with their wings clipped. They would be granted the opportunity to choose their own paths, their own partners—if they wanted one at all.

Pressing my palm to the fingerprint scanner to unlock my apartment, I pushed inside and headed straight for the wet bar in the living room. My fingers closed around the crystal decanter of scotch, and I brought it directly to my lips, letting the liquor burn a path down my throat as I drank greedily. Enough of this, and I might be able to forget—if only for a little while—that I’d allowed one impulsive moment to wreck everything.

Ice-cold liquid hitting me square in the face shocked me into consciousness, and my reflexes had me on my feet in a flash.

“What the fuck?” I screamed, blinking to clear my blurry vision. It didn’t help much because the room was spinning.

A quick glance at the decanter lying on its side on the carpet betrayed that I’d polished off the whole thing. No wonder there were two fuzzy Enzos glaring at me.

“What the fuck?” He shook his head. “What the fuck?” The second time, it came out louder, accompanied by a sharp shove to the shoulder that had me falling on my ass. “I’ll tell youwhat the fuck. You’ve been unreachable, and Summer’s losing her goddamn mind trying to get ahold of you!”

“I’ve been busy,” I grunted.

Enzo scoffed. “Yeah, real busy trying to drink yourself to death. I thought we’d moved past this shit.”

“It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

“You think I don’t know that? While you’ve been holed up here doing God knows what, I’ve been holding down the fort with the co-star of your little public playtime performance.”

My throbbing head dropped back on a groan. “I never meant for this to happen.”

Sympathy filtered into his tone. “No one’s saying that you did. But you can’t hide from it. And you can’t shut Summer out.”

Both hands came up to run through my hair. “I’m doing everything I can to diffuse this situation, and her incessant calling is a distraction I can’t afford. I get that she’s upset. She has every right to be. I promise she can chew me out once we make it out on the other side.”

Enzo folded tattooed arms over his chest. “You need to pull your head out of your ass and remember that she’s not just the woman you’re sleeping with; she’s the one taking care of your daughters. So, when she calls, you need to pick up the fucking phone! Every. Fucking. Time.”

That had me straightening. “She was calling about the girls?”

“Yeah, asshole. Serafina’s in the hospital.”

“What?!” I struggled to rise to my feet. Though he was pissed, my cousin offered me help in getting up.

Panting as black spots danced in my vision, I managed to ask, “What happened?”

“Well, if you’d bothered to answer any of the dozens of times she called, Summer would have told you that what started as a cold got progressively worse this past week. This morning, when she went to get Serafina out of her crib, her lips were blue, and Summer’s cries for help are still echoing in my ears.”

“Is—” My gut twisted so painfully that I feared I might vomit. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “They’ve got her on oxygen, hooked up to IV fluids, and have administered antiviral medication.”

Memories of my tiny baby girl with all kinds of tubes sticking out of her frail body flashed before my eyes, and it broke my heart thinking of her having to go through that for a second time in her short life.

“Antiviral?”

“They diagnosed her with RSV, which led to pneumonia. Apparently, premature babies are at risk for more severe complications.” His eyes lifted to the ceiling, and he swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed. “It was seriously fucked up. They kept asking me to sign off on the procedures necessary for her care because I was listed as her emergency contact, and you wereunavailable. She’s just a baby, Matteo. She needed you, not me. Summer needed you, not me.”

“You’re right.” My voice grew thick. “Can you drive me there?”

His nose wrinkled. “No way am I letting you anywhere near them like this. Get your sorry ass in the shower and clean up while I make you the world’s blackest cup of coffee.”