Page 92 of Brutal Obsession
I aim to calm the tremor in my jaw by evaluating the facts instead of letting them railroad me. My brothers most likely shut down communication within seconds of me deploying them to clean up the mess. I did the same thing before tossing Valeria at Valentina’s feet.
Without evidence, there’s no chance of conviction. My family has lived by that motto for decades.
Furthermore, only a fool would go against us now. We’re the strongest we’ve ever been. A fucking atomic bomb couldn’t take us down.
I remind myself of that on repeat while storing my phone in my pocket and walking toward Valentina’s room.
My conscience is clear. Then Concetta grips my arm like I’m the only buoy in a turbulent ocean. “Please, Giovanni…” she begs, her lips quivering. “Maria has been our rock these past few months. She held us together when everything was falling apart.”
She isn’t playing with my emotions like a fiddler does a fiddle. Valentina has mentioned numerous times that her aunt has been their only solid support throughout all this. But it doesn’t alter the facts.
“I can’t leave her.”
“I’ll stay with her. I won’t leave her side for a second.” I’m not close to siding with her until she adds, “Valentina won’t survive losing her aunt. She’ll blame herself.” She strays her watering eyes to her only child. “Just like she blames herself for my cancer diagnosis.”
Again, she isn’t making shit up to force me to prioritize her sister over her daughter. Her words are so gospel I’m about to walk out on the woman I swore to never abandon.
“I’ll go make sure Maria is okay…” She exhales sharply, relieved. She shouldn’t. “But if I find out Valentina woke to an empty room…” My glare finalizes my threat.
Concetta hears my warning loud and clear. “I won’t leave her side. She comes first.”
“Always,” I confirm.
The guilt that pummels into me when I enter Valentina’s room to brush my lips against her mouth is as brutal as a shot of methanol. Every instinct in me screams to stay. To sit beside her and hold her hand until she wakes up.
But her mother is right. Losing her aunt will gut Valentina, and that isn’t something I can sit by and watch.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Concetta’s quick head bob hides the fear surging in her eyes when I tear out of Valentina’s room and race for the closest exit.
36
GIOVANNI
Harsh blue and red ambulance lights streak the stonework of the Caruso compound when I pull down the long driveway at a speed too fast to be safe. I slam on the brakes, kicking up gravel, before I exit my SUV with my gun in my hand and the engine still running.
The scent in the air isn’t suitable for a family residence.
It reeks of controversy.
Relief batters me when I recognize the generous frame of the person the paramedics are wheeling down the front stairs. Valentina’s aunt is strapped to a gurney. She’s pale and clammy but breathing. Dante is following closely behind her. He’s also pale but uninjured. Shockingly.
After storing my gun, I stride toward the paramedics and say in a commanding tone, “Take her to San Giorgio’sand make sure they know she’s a Caruso.”
The driver nods without pause. His loyalty will be well rewarded.
While waiting for them to load Maria into the ambulance, I pull out my phone and bring up the number of the phone I organized forConcetta’s room weeks ago. It’s the “free” iPhone she’s never questioned.
Not wanting the loud ring setting all women over fifty seem to have to wake Valentina, I send a text message instead of calling.
Me:
Maria is conscious and fine. Being transported to San Giorgio’s now.
Her reply is delivered fast.
Concetta:
