Fuck me. Absolutely, fuck me.
"Luca is helping Antonio sort out a few things," I reply carefully.
Victoria narrows her eyes, "Really?"
"Yeah," I nod, only half lying, "he finally decided to ask for help."
"And why are my kids living at the compound?" she questions.
"Just an extra precaution," I shrug in response.
"For what?" she pushes it.
I take in a sharp breath before replying, "Don't play dumb Vic."
She knows we're at war; she just doesn't know the full extent of it. At least not yet.
"Was there an attack?" she asks, eyes going wide, "Were my children attacked?"
"No," I insist, "it's just a precaution."
"You better not be lying to me," she says sternly.
It's time to choose; die by Luca's hand or Victoria's. She's going to find out the truth eventually, I just need to make sure I'm not around when she does. I'd much rather face her wrath than that of her husband. Especially when he's in this state.
I take a deep breath before lying, "I would never."
She turns her attention back to her daughter. For a few minutes the only sounds in the room are the machines beeping and whirring. I shift in the uncomfortable seat and reposition my gun so it's not digging into my back.
"Where's Rosa?" she breaks the silence.
"At the compound," I reply quickly, "why?"
"How are things going with you two?" she asks, "Are the wedding bells ready?"
"We're going to get married in a few weeks," I tell her, "I'm going to push it off until you're better."
"You don't have to do that," she counters, shaking her head.
"Yes I do," I tell her firmly.
She turns back to a sleeping Elle and pushes hair out of her face, "Gio?"
"Yeah?"
"What are Antonio and Luca doing?" she asks, finally turning to look at me.
"Just business," I reply as I stand and approach the bed, "I think it's time for us to go."
Victoria kisses Elle's cheeks before giving me a nod. I lift Elle into my arms and her head rests on my shoulder. Vic sits up in the bed and her brows are furrowed as she looks at me. Tears begin to rim her eyes and I feel a pang of guilt.
"Please just tell me what's going on," she practically whispers.
"Nothings going on," I tell her, even as my gut tells me not to lie, "nothing that you need to worry about."
"I don't believe you," she says quietly.
"If you don't believe me then ask your husband," I say.
I can't sit here and keep feeding her lies. It's just wrong. If Luca wants to keep her in the dark he can do it his goddamned self.
"Please don't let anything happen to them," she says, "please."
"Nothing is going to happen to them," I tell her with full certainty. We've been at war before and there have always been kids around.
Our men know to protect them with their lives because if they don't, they'll wish they were fucking dead. Everyone loves these kids; Elle's been known to make even the toughest of men crack and smile. They'll be protected.
I pull Victoria into a one armed hug and pull away offering her a small smile. She doesn't return the gesture though, she simply scowls at me.
"I'll see you when you get out," I tell her as I stride towards the door.
I make my way through the hospital and outside where an SUV is waiting. I climb in, careful not to wake Elle, and the driver takes off. I look out the window as he speeds through the streets. How the hell did everything get so messy so fast?
It's times like this when I wish Enzo was still alive. Despite him being so young, he was the only one of us who wasn't impulsive; who actually thought out his actions and the consequences. He was at his best when we were at war, and I think we could all use some of his words of wisdom.
The car pulls into the circular driveway and the driver comes to open my door. The compound is in an almost frenzy as men pack and prepare for this war.
I carry Elle upstairs and into the room that was prepared for her. Alice is unpacking her clothes into the closet and lifts her head when I walk in. I lay Elle down on her bed but she tightens her hold around my neck.
"Please don't leave Zio Gio," she murmurs, her eyes still closed.
I glance at Alice, unsure of what to do. I have business to take care of; warehouses to maintain, flight logs to plan, blueprints to look over. She must be able to see it on my face because Alice drops the dress in her hands and walks closer.
"She doesn't understand much Italian," she starts quietly, "and she has no idea what kind of business you run. Take her with you if you want; if not I'll figure it out."
I nod slowly and adjust my hold on the half asleep child, "I've got you, tesoro. You're coming to work with me today."
I start through the halls towards the training rooms. I should really check in on Antonio. He's not known for controlling his temper and I want to make sure he hasn't killed any of our new recruits.
As I reach the landing for the fourth floor I hear giggling. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. I continue through the floor until I spot her long, raven hair.
Rosa has her hand on one of my men's chest, leaning forward as she whispers something to him. His cheeks flush and he turns his head away only to make eye contact with me. His eyes go wide and he steps away from her, scurrying down the hallway.
I finally come to stand behind her and she huffs before turning to face me.
"What are you doing?" I ask, shaking my head.
"I was bored," she shrugs, turning her focus to her nails, "the young ones always get so flustered."
"Don't flirt with my men," I warn her.
"Why not?" she challenges, tilting her head.
"Because you are my fiancé," I retort, stepping closer, "don't you dare disrespect me like that."
"I'm not an engaged woman until there's a ring on this finger," she says, lifting her hand in front of me.
"There are way more important things right now than getting a ring for you," I spit back. God I forgot how self centered she can be. "You should know better than to behave like this when we're at war."
"Behave like what?" she snarks.
I like to believe that I'm not a mean person. That I don't say or do exceptionally cruel things when it comes to my personal life. But we are at war with the only organization that even resembles competition. And here she is, flirting with my men in broad daylight and whining about a fucking ring. She may have been able to behave like this back in Italy but not here, not anymore.
My jaw clenches, "come un fottuto monello viziato."
(Like a spoiled fucking brat)
Rosa's eyes widen and her mouth hangs open. This, this bullshit right here, is the reason I was so hesitant to marry her but it's too late now. I shake my head as I look down at her before brushing past and continuing to the training rooms.
I step into the room and am met with chaos. There are sparring matches going all across the room but they haven't been matched up based on ability. Men are landing blows, hard blows, on each other and the few fighting with knives are already bleeding. What the fuck is he thinking?
Elle stirs a little at the noise but I put my hand on the back of her head and she settles back down. I look around the room and spot Antonio leaning against the far wall. I maneuver my way through the fighting men to stand at his side.
"How's it going?" I ask, jutting my chin towards the men.
"Fine," Antonio huffs, his arms folded over his chest.
"C'mon," I say, nudging him with my elbow, "what the hell is going on in here?"
"I was curious," he shrugs.
"About what?" I ask.
"I wanted to see the differences in their fighting," he says, pointing at a duo, "he can knock someone out in a single punch but he can barely block a hit."
"So you're testing them?" I question. I didn't know he did that; it would have been helpful information when I got stuck with this job.
"I always do," he says gruffly, finally looking at me, "what do you want?"
"Just checking in," I tell him simply before nodding towards Elle, "plus I thought it might be nice for her to see her Zio but she's still knocked out."
"I wish her dad was still around," he says, "he would know how to fix this mess."
I nod in agreement, "but there's nothing we can do about that now."
"I know," he sighs, "she didn't eat her breakfast this morning. You should probably feed her."
I look over his face critically as I nod slowly. He's pissed but I can't exactly figure out why. He didn't want this role, he didn't want to be in charge. But now that he's not, now that Luca took that from him, he seems to be on edge. Like he's ready to fight anyone who even looks at him wrong.
"I'll see you at dinner," I tell him before leaving.
Elle begins to wake as I get to the first floor. She lifts her head off my shoulder and glares around before looking at me.
"Where's Mommy?" she asks quietly.
"She's with the doctors," I reply as I walk into the kitchen, "and you need to get some food in your belly."
"I want waffles," she declares as I place her on the counter.
"Coming right up little miss," I reply, tapping her nose. She giggles and I go over to the fridge to get the ingredients.
I bring everything over to the counter beside her and begin to mix the ingredients together. She leans forward to watch me and I can't hold in my smile. I offer her the whisk and she takes it from me with wide eyes before stirring the batter.
"You're very good at this," I tell her, "maybe you should be a baker when you grow up."
"Nope," she says with finality, "I'm going to be a ballerina."
"Yeah?" I ask with a chuckle, "you need to start going to dance class then."
"Daddy says once I'm five I can go," she replies with a shrug.
I step away to pour the batter into the iron and grab the syrup. Elle swings her legs as I move around the kitchen and I glance over at her every so often. I wonder what goes on in the little head of hers.
I plate the waffles and help her off the counter. She races ahead into the dining room and I follow right behind her. A few of the men are situated around the room, talking quietly over cups of coffee. Elle plants herself in a seat and I come to sit beside her.
She digs right in and I grimace as I watch her get syrup in her hair. Now that is a task Alice can deal with.
The doors swing open and a frantic looking Rocco appears. His eyes sweep the room until he lands on me. He rushes over and stands before me panting.
"Cosa c'è che non va?" I ask.
(What's wrong?)
He glances at Elle before replying, "sei necessario al molo."
(You are needed at the docks)
"Per quello?" I ask as I stand.
(For what?)
"C'è stato un bombardamento," he says simply.
(There was a bombing)
"Shit," I mumble, striding towards the door, "non lasciarla perdere di vista."
(Do not let her leave your sight)