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CHAPTER FIVE

Violet

The flight out to Baron’s Edge took less time than I anticipated. Vincenzo had his men waiting for us at the top of the Rose Garden Hotel. We were escorted down to the penthouse, where Vincenzo rattled off instructions in Italian to his men while I waited impatiently to go get my friend.

We’re taking the elevator down to the parking garage where he said his men will meet us in his SUVs. The doctor is coming along in case Mili needs immediate care on site.

When we exit the elevator, two men, Matteo and another of Vincenzo’s soldiers I don’t know, flank my sides until we reach the vehicle. Matteo opens the rear passenger door and ushers me inside, then crawls in beside me and closes the door. The other man takes the front passenger seat and begins talking to the driver.

“What do you know about the men who attacked your friend?” Matteo asks, surprising me.

“Oh, so now you want to talk to me?” I snark. Matteo raises his brow. I throw my hands up and drop them back into my lap. “Everyone has been speaking in Italian since I arrived at the house unless telling me what to do.”

“It’s for your own safety. It’s best if you don’t know what we are planning and follow whatever instructions you are given.”

“So, you expect me to blindly obey.” It’s not a question, nor is it something that appeals to me. “I’ve been the good girl and done as I was told before. It didn’t work out so hot for me in the past.” I turn away from Matteo and watch as the city goes by.

A warm hand grips my thigh, and I jump at the feel of it.

“Easy.” Matteo lifts his hands in a placating manner. “I mean you no harm, Dolcezza,” he says, lowering his hands.

I sigh as my shoulders sag, patting his hand gently. “I know. I’m sorry. Being back here makes me jumpy.”

“Hmm. And you were going to come here alone to help your friend if the boss didn’t help, weren’t you?” he scolds.

“I’d have called Kayce.”

“Why didn’t you?” Matteo leans back in his seat, his arms now folded over his chest, watching me intently. He and Vincenzo have worked with Kayce and his team a few times, that I’m aware of. I knew enough not to ask what they did together, being that Kayce and his men are all “off the books ops” and, well, Vincenzo is a mob boss. The combination seemed enough to keep me from wanting to know any details.

“Mili asked me not to.” Matteo says nothing, but his expression says he’s waiting for me to elaborate.

“Kayce and his men recently stopped a group of women from being trafficked. I guess they stole them from the harbor and brought them to Mili to be treated for any injuries. Afterword, Kayce either returned them to their families or put them in safe homes for rehabilitation.” I shrug. “Emilia has been helping them get women out of shitty situations for years.”

“And this time she got caught.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“She was shutting down her practice so she could move to Oakridge and work for the hospital, maybe reopen her clinic there in town.”

“But you said if she went into the hospital someone would find her. How can she work there and not be found? Something isn’t adding up, Dolcezza.” Matteo pins me with his glare.

“Emilia isn’t her real name. Kayce always told us if we ever had to go to the hospital or got ourselves arrested, we would be screwed because there are moles everywhere. He would do everything he could to protect us, but there are people—connected people—who would stop at nothing to find us.”

“You mean people who would turn you in for a price,” Matteo speculates.

I don’t answer.

Matteo looks at me questioningly, but the driver calls out, “We’re here, sir.” Giving me the reprieve I need.

“Don’t open the door. You wait for me to come around and get you,” Matteo orders. He exits his side and comes around to mine, opens the door, giving me a curt nod. “Good girl,” he whispers where only I can hear him.

I glare back and just as quietly reply, “Fuck off.” Matteo laughs heartily. It’s a beautiful sound. One I don’t hear often.

“Good to see your fire hasn’t been completely snuffed out, Dolcezza. Don’t forget that.” Matteo winks then, with his hand on my upper back, ushers me toward the apartment building.

Two men exit the building and head for Vincenzo. He’s standing beside us, watching our exchange.

“The apartment is empty, boss.” One of them says.

I raise my hand, interrupting him. “She’s here. She’s hiding. I’ll show you if you’ll take me up, but only you, Matteo, and the doctor can come into the apartment. Too many men may frighten her further.”

“Very well. Lead the way, Miss Dupree,” Vincenzo says, motioning for his men to follow. “They will stand guard outside the apartment in case anyone approaches the building.”

I nod and proceed to the building, only to be shoved out of the way by Matteo’s hulking body. “Which apartment?”

“4A.”

Matteo starts up the stairs with us following close behind. Vincenzo chuckles at my back.

“Do not be angry at him, Violet. Matteo is protective by nature, but he is also doing his job.”

“I know. I should be used to his overbearing protectiveness. It’s appreciated. I’m just concerned for Emilia, and all these extra steps that are keeping me from getting to her.”

“They’re for your safety as much as hers.” Vincenzo states, sounding annoyed. “We don’t know what condition your friend is in, nor do we know if we are walking into a trap,”

I turn to look at Vincenzo over my shoulder in confusion. “Your men said it was clear.”

“And yet you say Miss D’Angelo is hiding somewhere my men have missed. Who is to say the people who harmed her haven’t found her hiding place or made one of their own and are waiting for us?”

“Kayce only built the one safe room,” I inform him.

“Yes, but who else lives in this building? How many other people who have money can afford to have hiding places built into their homes? Baron’s Edge is not a place where you’ll find the poor and unresourceful, is it?” His brow lifts, and I know he has a point. “Now, keep up with Matteo. He is not a man who waits patiently.”

When we reach Mili’s apartment, Matteo holds the door open. Vincenzo walks past me in a rush and heads straight to the master bedroom. I text Mili’s phone to let her know I’m here. When I reach the closet, I’m shocked to find Vincenzo has already opened the safe room door and let himself in.

He’s crouched before a half conscious Mili.

I rush over. “How did you …”

“No time, Violet,” Vincenzo snaps. “Gattina, open your eyes for me.” His voice is soft as he runs his hand over Mili’s face. I move to get to her, to help, but Matteo’s large arm crossing my chest halts my movement. When I look up at him to ask what the hell he’s doing, he shakes his head and places a finger over his lips, shushing me.

What the fuck?

“Gattina. Emilia,” Vincenzo says harsher this time. Mili moans, turning her head in his direction. Her eyes blink slowly.

“Vincenzo?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

Vincenzo smiles down at her. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m here. Where are you hurt?”

He moves his hand over her body, taking inventory. Her left eye is nearly swollen shut. Her bottom lip is cracked and swollen. When Vincenzo leans in, placing his arm around her back to pick her up, Mili cries out in pain. Vincenzo removes his hands, throwing them up in the air immediately.

“Get the doctor in here! Now!”

“Shouldn’t you have let him come in before you in the first place, before you started poking at her?” I shout, waving my hands at Mili’s obviously injured state.

“Watch yourself, Violet.” Vincenzo’s tone brooks no argument. The sweet, gentle, caring man who was doting over my friend is no more. In his place is the boss who runs the show.

Matteo turns, leaning in to whisper, “He wanted to be sure she was descent before bringing the doctor in.” He doesn’t say anything else, then storms past me into the other room. I make my way over to Mili and sit on the edge of the loveseat she’s currently stretched out on. Her safe room is a bit larger than the one in my apartment, but then her apartment is three times the size of mine, too.

Mili’s safe room is almost half the size of a bedroom. It makes sense since her walk-in closet is half the size of my bedroom. I’ve never understood why rich people needed such large spaces. It’s a bedroom. You sleep it in. A bed, a dresser, maybe a tv, and a couple of nightstands are all a person should need.

Not the wealthy. No, Mili has a large four poster European king-sized bed along with all the standard bedroom furniture, but she also has a long leather couch sitting in front of a large fireplace with a flat-screen tv mounted above the mantle. There is a short writing desk and two high-back green velvet chairs facing toward the windows.

It’s too much. Although, I wouldn’t mind a fireplace in my room and a comfy couch to sit on while reading in front of it on cold winter nights.

“Vi.” Mili’s soft, scratchy voice pulls me out of my internal tirade.

“I’m here, babe.” I reach for her hand, lacing her fingers with mine.

“Walk me through your injuries so we can make plans for your transport, Gattina?” Vincenzo brazenly starts in. “I need to know what happened. Where are you hurt? Can you stand? Walk?”

“I can shoot my gun,” Mili says, and though soft, her voice is full of venom. I didn’t see the handgun she was holding in her hand between the cushions until now. It’s currently aimed at Vincenzo’s chest.

I am officially two seconds from peeing on myself.

Shit.

Vincenzo doesn’t flinch. The fucking psycho of a man smiles. He smiles.

“Now, sweetheart. We both know you won’t shoot me, and I won’t hold this ungrateful behavior against you. Though I will say, seeing you with a gun in your hand has had an interesting effect on me. Perhaps when you’re better, we’ll discuss it further.” He quirks his brow. Mili’s eyes widen for a split second, then narrow again as she lowers the gun back to her side.

What the hell is happening? Are they flirting?

“You’re right, Mr. Parisi. Forgive my rudeness.” Mili gives her best fake smile, which given the swelling of her face and bruising, is not having quite the effect she’s going for. But my girl has had a rough day and I’m not about to point that out to her.

“But I’m sure you can understand my cautionary behavior. The last group of men to descend upon me uninvited left quite the mark behind.” Mili gestures to her face and body, then squeezes her eyes shut, wincing.

Vincenzo growls.

“Let me see the patient.” The doctor enters the room and gently nudges Vincenzo to the side. Again, Vincenzo growls.

“Careful, doctor.” Matteo issues a warning from his place by the door.

“I mean no disrespect, sir. I need room to view the patient. Perhaps you could all wait in the other room while I do my exam?”

I release Mili’s hand, stand up, and start for the door, only to stop when Vincenzo says, “No.”

“No?” Mili asks.

“Yes. No.” He repeats firmly.

“You don’t have the right to say no. It’s my choice who stays with me for a medical exam. It’s a confidential conversation that takes place between a patient and her doctor. Legally, you cannot say shit about it.” Mili sounds frustrated. Understandably so, although she’s chosen the wrong person to take her anger out on.

Vincenzo leans back on his heals, arms folded over his chest. He must’ve left his suit jacket in the car, but the way his eyes have darkened, nearly matching the deep black of his shirt, is all the warning I need to step out of the way.

Don’t freak out. You’re okay. Vincenzo wouldn’t hurt you.

I chant the words over and over in my head, trying to keep my panic at bay.

He won’t hurt my friend. I know this much about Vincenzo. He doesn’t hurt women or innocents. But it doesn’t mean he won’t scare the living shit out of her.

Or me.

“Well, Gattina, since the doctor is on my payroll and you refuse to go to a traditional hospital, your care will be done under my laws. How I deem fit. And in my fucking presence. ‘Patient’s rights’ means absolutely fuck all to me.”

Did he just say fuck all? Where the hell am I and what the fuck is happening?

Mili narrows her eyes, but Vincenzo isn’t finished. “Everyone else, out. Violet, please pack Emilia’s things. Whatever she will need for the foreseeable future. She will not be returning to this apartment once we leave here tonight. Matteo, help her.”

“Yes, Boss.” Matteo grabs my shoulder gently, shoving me out of the room. As we pass through the door, I hear Mili swearing in Italian. She hardly ever speaks in Italian.

“Oh, shit.”

“Indeed, Dolcezza. Indeed.” Matteo grunts.