Chapter 3
Nora had been walking across the private suite for 3 hours.
The carpet was thick enough to absorb every frantic step.
She tried the entrance repeatedly.
It had been locked from outside.
She threw a crystal vase toward the reinforced window.
The vase broke.
The glass remained untouched.
Nora felt as though she were attempting to escape her own body.
Silence pressed against her chest and prevented a complete breath.
Each time she closed her eyes, she saw the recording.
The weapon against her mother’s head.
Lorenzo had gone alone.
The understanding had entered her approximately 1 hour earlier.
He locked Nora inside, ordered his people to remain behind, and entered a fortified position alone.
For her.
For a woman he had known for approximately 2 months.
For a woman who repeatedly forgot to order his coffee.
The lock moved.
Nora turned.
Her heart struck against her ribs.
Carmine stood inside the doorway.
His suit was disordered.
A dark mark of grease or blood crossed his jaw.
His expression carried none of the ordinary rough humor.
“Carmine.”
Nora moved toward him.
“My mother.”
Her voice broke.
“Where is she?”
“She is safe.”
Carmine’s voice became unexpectedly gentle.
“She is inside the medical level.”
“Dr. Bennett is examining her.”
He stepped farther into the room.
“She is frightened, but she is not injured.”
A sob left Nora.
Her legs failed.
She reached the velvet sofa and covered her face with both hands.
Her mother was alive.
The crushing fear lifted, leaving her dizzy and unable to breathe properly.
“Thank God.”
Nora cried into her hands.
She wiped her face, spreading makeup across her skin.
Then she looked toward Carmine.
He had not moved.
He did not smile.
Relief disappeared.
Cold dread replaced it.
“Where is Lorenzo?”
Carmine looked toward the brass door handle.
“He received a 7.62 mm round inside his side.”
His voice became quieter.
“It passed the armor.”
Carmine swallowed.
“The bullet damaged an artery.”
“He lost considerable blood.”
“Where is he?”
Nora stood.
“Surgery.”
Carmine finally looked at her.
“Bennett has been working for 2 hours.”
He exhaled.
“It is uncertain.”
Nora did not wait.
She passed Carmine and ran through the executive corridor toward the private elevator.
He followed without attempting to stop her.
The medical facility beneath Conti Enterprises was a complete trauma center designed for men unable to enter a public hospital carrying bullet wounds.
Bleach and iodine struck Nora when she passed through the doors.
Beyond reinforced glass, she saw the operating room.
Lorenzo lay over the table.
He looked impossibly small.
The man who controlled organizations and frightened cities had become pale and still.
His skin resembled old wax.
A tube entered his throat.
Fluids and blood moved into him through suspended bags.
Dr. Bennett and 2 nurses worked over his open abdomen.
Their gloves were dark with blood.
Nora placed her palm against the glass.
“He should not have done this.”
Tears returned.
“He had no alternative.”
Carmine stood beside her.
“You know him.”
His voice became quiet.
“For a man who owns half the city, Lorenzo possesses very little that truly belongs to him.”
He looked through the glass.
“When he decides something is his, he does not release it.”
“I am not his.”
Carmine looked toward Nora.
“Yes, you are.”
He paused.
“And he belongs to you.”
Carmine’s expression remained serious.
“Whether you accept the ugly parts of this existence or not.”
Nora did not argue.
She remained beside the glass for 4 hours.
She did not sit.
She refused the water Carmine offered.
Nora watched the green line of Lorenzo’s heartbeat moving across the monitor.
It was weak and irregular.
It refused to stop.
Stubborn.
He was impossibly stubborn.
Near dawn, Dr. Bennett left the scrub room and removed his mask.
Exhaustion covered him.
He looked toward Carmine and then Nora.
“We controlled the bleeding.”
His voice remained quiet.
“We removed part of the intestine.”
“The kidney was also damaged.”
Bennett continued.
“He is stable.”
He looked toward the operating room.
“If he survives the next 12 hours without infection, he will live.”
Nora closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the cold glass.
“May I see him?”
“He is unconscious, Miss Davies.”
“He may remain that way for some time.”
“I do not care.”
Nora opened her eyes.
“I want to sit beside him.”
Bennett nodded.
“Five minutes.”
He indicated the wash station.
“Clean your hands.”
The recovery room was dim.
Only the ventilator’s repeating movement disturbed the silence.
Nora placed a plastic chair beside the bed.
She looked toward Lorenzo.
The hard lines of his face had loosened.
Silver along his temples appeared more visible beneath the fluorescent lights.
He looked older.
He looked human.
Nora placed her hand inside his calloused palm, avoiding the intravenous lines.
His skin was cold.
“You complete idiot.”
Her voice fractured.
“Arrogant, impossible idiot.”
Lorenzo did not move.
Nora rested her forehead against his arm.
The blood inside his records no longer mattered.
Neither did the empire, its fear, or the men wearing cheap suits.
“You do not get to die to erase my debt.”
Her fingers tightened.
“You purchased my mother’s medication.”
“You destroyed my life.”
Nora looked toward his face.
“Now you need to awaken and help me repair it.”
Her voice became quiet.
“Do you hear me, Lorenzo?”
“You owe me.”
She remained there while sunrise placed pale gray light across the underground room.
Nora never released his hand.
Two months later, the glass doors of Conti Enterprises opened with their ordinary, expensive hiss.
Frankie “the Jaw” Russo left the elevator wearing a loud pinstripe suit.
He looked extremely nervous.
A thick envelope remained inside his scarred hands.
Frankie approached the executive desk.
Nora did not immediately look up.
She typed rapidly over her computer while wearing a Bluetooth headset.
Her navy pantsuit had been tailored precisely.
Her hair was arranged perfectly.
The shadows beneath her eyes were gone.
They had been replaced by a sharp concentration.
“No.”
Nora spoke clearly into the headset.
“Tell the alderman that if he blocks the waterfront zoning permit, we withdraw union financing from his reelection campaign.”
She listened briefly.
“Yes.”
“All of it.”
Nora’s voice remained flat.
“I do not care whether his wife cries.”
“Handle it.”
She ended the call and looked toward Frankie.
“Frankie.”
“Miss Davies.”
He swallowed.
“I brought the figures from the South Side construction projects.”
“Are they correct this time?”
Nora extended her hand.
“Last month, your accounting was approximately $40,000 short.”
“It is correct.”
Frankie placed the envelope over her desk.
“I swear.”
“Every dollar is accounted for.”
Nora opened it and reviewed the 1st page.
“Better.”
She continued reading.
“Tell your foremen that if they attempt to remove money from the concrete budget again, Lorenzo will speak with them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Frankie moved rapidly toward the elevator.
Nora closed the folder and rubbed her temples.
She was no longer only an assistant.
That identity ended when Lorenzo nearly died over the operating table.
When he awakened, weak and emptied by surgery, he gave Nora control of the organization’s legitimate operations.
She managed politicians, unions, and property.
Carmine managed the streets.
Lorenzo managed them both.
The direct intercom sounded.
“Nora, come inside.”
Lorenzo’s voice was stronger.
The gravelly baritone had returned, although it lacked some of its former force.
Nora collected her tablet and entered through the oak doors.
Lorenzo sat behind his desk.
He wore no jacket, only a black shirt open near the collar.
His body was thinner.
The lines of his face had become sharper.
The dark and possessive intensity inside his eyes remained unchanged.
He watched Nora while she entered.
He always watched her now, as though confirming she remained real.
“You frightened Frankie.”
Lorenzo leaned backward and winced when the movement affected his healing side.
“Frankie is an idiot who interprets spreadsheets as suggestions.”
Nora sat opposite him.
“How severe is the pain?”
“Manageable.”
Lorenzo dismissed it with 1 hand.
“How is Joan?”
“She is complaining about food inside the new facility.”
Nora smiled.
The facility was a private estate in Connecticut, financed completely through the Conti trust.
“That means she is improving.”
“Good.”
Lorenzo closed the file before him.
His eyes moved toward the empty part of the desk.
“You did not bring coffee.”
“You possess legs.”
Nora’s voice remained flat.
“Walk toward the staff room.”
Lorenzo’s mouth moved.
It was the nearest he ordinarily came to a smile.
He stood slowly, protecting his left side, and moved around the desk.
He did not walk toward the door.
Lorenzo stopped before Nora’s chair and rested both hands over its arms, enclosing her.
His face remained inches from hers.
“I do not compensate you for insubordination.”
“You no longer compensate me for obtaining coffee.”
Nora met his gaze.
“I am the director of operations.”
She raised 1 eyebrow.
“I possess a plaque.”
Nora reached upward and traced the line of his jaw.
The touch had become familiar and stabilizing.
Lorenzo closed his eyes and leaned into her palm.
The monster remained.
He still ordered violence and governed through fear.
With Nora, the armor opened.
With Nora, he was the man who nearly died to protect her.
“You saved my life.”
Lorenzo opened his eyes.
“You saved mine first.”
Nora’s mouth moved slightly.
“We are equal.”
“We will never be equal.”
He leaned downward and kissed her.
It was not the hesitant question from 2 months earlier.
The kiss was deep and claiming, grounded inside the blood and disorder they survived.
Nora held the dark material of his shirt and answered completely.
It was not a fairy tale.
It was disordered and profoundly flawed.
Nora loved a Mafia leader.
Lorenzo loved a chaotic and forgetful woman who accidentally overturned his entire existence.
As Lorenzo lifted her from the chair and closed both arms around her, Nora knew she would not change any part of it.
“I still want my coffee.”
His voice moved against her mouth.
“Dismiss me.”
Nora smiled.
“Never.”
May you like
The 3 parts form one continuous narrative.
Disclaimer: This story is fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. Any names, characters, places, or events are fictitious or used fictitiously. No real person or organization is intended to be portrayed.
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