Ravenous Kingpin (Kingpins of the Syndicate #4)

39. Emory

CHAPTER 39

Emory

F or the next forty-eight hours, Amara and I did a lot of resting and healing.

According to the doctor, the transplant was successful. We were still not out of the woods yet, and she had to be monitored for any signs of rejection, but so far Amara’s body was accepting the liver.

“Plenty of rest and no physical activity aside from light walking,” the doctor instructed. No traveling. No swimming. No sex. The latter one had gotten me flustered and frustrated, but it wasn’t as if I had energy for any of those activities.

Once the doctor left, I stayed with Amara until she slipped into a deep sleep and I put on a long, navy-blue robe that belonged to Killian. I made my way out of the makeshift hospital room in the manor, wheeling the IV drip hooked to my arm.

So many thoughts swirled in my mind along with chaotic emotions that demanded I talk to my brother. He had been visiting daily, sometimes staying for hours. He hadn’t brought up all the secrets I’d kept or the mistakes I’d obviously made. He had been a tentative, concerned brother and uncle, being there for me. Like he always had.

Moving slower than a turtle, I finally found him in the office with Killian. He sat on the chair, his elbows resting on his knees and his gaze on my husband. They talked in hushed, urgent tones, and it was clear something was afoot. I slowly approached the two most important men in my life with my heart thundering so loud I was sure they heard because both their gazes lifted to mine.

“What happened?” I questioned, worry lacing my voice. “Did you find Ines?”

“Emory…” Basilio jumped to his feet and met me halfway. “What are you doing out of bed?”

Killian was at my side already, his arms wrapped around my middle as he guided me toward the empty chair.

“Your brother’s right,” he muttered begrudgingly. “You should be resting.”

I could feel their anguish and concern emanating from them in waves. There was no way I could rest. There were too many things that needed handling.

Once seated, I met their eyes.

“I’m done resting, and I want to know what’s going on.” They shared a look, and it was clear something had happened. “Please, I need to know. Ines is my responsibility, and I owe her father to bring her home safe and sound. And if Bogdan has her?—”

“He claims he doesn’t,” Basilio muttered.

“But you don’t believe him,” I finished his unspoken words.

“Who in their right mind would?” my brother said wryly, glancing at Killian.

I waved my hand, tabling the subject of Bogdan for now. “Do we know what happened to Liana?”

“Yes.”

When they remained quiet, I raised my brow. “Can you clue me in? I’d like to assure my daughter that the woman who took care of her is safe and sound.”

“Giovanni Agosti kidnapped her,” Killian answered.

“Why? What does he want?”

“No idea,” Basilio added. “Maybe he’s in love and this was a sure way to snatch the woman.”

I let out an exasperated breath. “What is it with you men and kidnapping women left and right? Can’t you woo a woman without forcing your presence on her?”

“Apparently not,” Killian muttered, unable to hide his smile.

“It’s the only way you ladies listen to us,” Basilio chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re not setting a good example for your son.”

“So can we tell Giovanni to give Liana back?”

“He told us to fuck off,” my husband grumbled. “But he’s not a psycho like his—” He paused when I scoffed. “Okay, he’s not the one to hurt women, so let’s see what he wants with her first.”

“Liana will kill him,” I told them, recalling the woman who cut her own finger off for whatever reason.

Basilio shrugged, clearly unperturbed, then changed subjects. “We need to talk about the newest development.”

Killian narrowed his eyes. “Not now. Em’s still recovering.”

“Talk to me about what?” I demanded. “And I already told you, I’m done resting. Besides, I have to talk to my brother about… things I’ve learned.”

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Killian stroked my head. “Let me know if you need me, álainn .”

He was just about to leave when Basilio’s voice stopped him. “We should tell her now.”

“Now isn’t the time,” Killian responded curtly while my eyes darted between them.

“Tell me what?”

Killian shook his head. “Nothing to concern yourself with until you’re fully recovered.”

“Why do I feel like I should really be concerned about it now?”

“Let’s just get it over with and tell her now,” my brother insisted.

“I agree. Now that I know there’s something you need to tell me, I won’t rest until I know.”

Killian didn’t look happy about it, but with a clenched jaw, he gave his terse nod. “Fine, then.”

Taking the seat closest to me, Killian took my hand in his, and Basilio started. “Bogdan has reached out.” The name sent a feeling of doom through me, but I remained still, waiting for Basilio to continue. “He learned of the human trafficking you allowed in Vegas.” My lips pressed into a thin line, preparing myself for what would follow. It was pointless to justify myself or claim that I had ensured every single one of those shipments would be intercepted by áine King and The Rose Rescue. The organ trafficking that occurred and the death of Bogdan’s niece was proof that I’d failed some of them. “He demands retribution.”

“And my life, I assume?”

My voice sounded distant to my own ears as regret washed over me. For Bogdan’s niece. For my daughter and my plans to disappear that sounded silly now because I knew there wouldn’t be a corner on this earth that I could hide where Bogdan wouldn’t find me.

“He’s not getting your life,” Killian cut through my self-despair. “If he wants war, he’ll get it.”

I staggered to my feet but nearly fell when Basilio said, “Or we turn Vegas over to your husband.”

“Basilio,” Killian hissed in warning, catching me. “I told you that’s out of the question.”

“Either you take it, Killian, or Bogdan takes it,” Basilio reasoned. “There are no other options.”

“There is,” my husband said in an authoritarian voice. “My wife keeps her position.”

Turning to my husband, I met his somber expression, only now noticing dark shadows under his eyes and his days-old stubble. “Why?”

“Why what, Em?”

“Why wouldn’t you take Vegas?”

Killian exhaled deeply, his gaze zeroing in on me. “Because I’m not interested in taking that seat from you. It belongs to you.”

“What if I want you to?”

His eyes blazed with flames. “Is this a test, álainn ? I told you before and I’ll tell you again, your position at the Syndicate is of no interest to me.”

“That position no longer matters to me.” I swallowed. “Once I found my daughter, I was going to disappear.”

“What?” Basilio’s voice was harsh, but I kept my eyes on Killian.

“But running won’t keep us safe from Bogdan. Giving him Vegas definitely won’t keep us safe. But if you, Killian, take the reins of Vegas, you will keep us safe.”

He protested, but he knew I was right. And because of that, he would do it.

For our daughter. For me. For us.

After Killian agreed it was the best course of action, we’d set the wheels in motion. He took off for the West Coast this morning, making plans to line up favors to ensure Bogdan kept his greedy paws off Vegas, leaving me alone with my brother.

He’d only left twenty-four hours ago, and I missed him already. My brother and his family stayed with Amara and me to tend to us, keep us safe, and harass us. It was a three-for-one kind of deal.

“Favorite color?” I asked my daughter. We had been playing the game of favorites for the past hour.

“Green. Yours?”

“Red.”

She smiled. “I knew it.”

My brows furrowed as I shifted, snuggling her closer to me. “How did you know?”

“Papa said it.”

I stilled, my heart trembling at hearing those words, just as it had since the first time I heard her call him that.

“Favorite food?” I asked, trying hard not to become too emotional and making things too awkward.

“Pizza,” we said at the same time, then giggled.

“What kind of pizza?” she asked.

“Capricciosa.” When she gave me a blank look, I added, “It’s a pizza with Italian ham, mozzarella, mushrooms, artichokes, and tomatoes. Yours?”

I stifled my yawn, but in the next moment, Amara yawned too. The recovery was going painfully slow, and we often found ourselves needing a nap throughout the day.

I was just about to recommend we take a break when Wynter entered the master bedroom, surveying us critically.

“You both overexerted yourselves.”

“We did not,” I retorted wryly.

“We were just about to take a nap,” Amara chimed in.

“But first, meds,” Wynter chirped.

She handed a glass and pill to Amara, which she dutifully took, then made herself more comfortable, and I knew it would only take a few seconds for her to be out like a light.

“Time for your meds too, Emory.” Wynter shoved the little white pills in my face. “Amara has taken them like a pro. Show me you can do it better and faster.”

I shook my head.

“Are you trying to have me compete with my daughter?” I grumbled.

Wynter shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t hurt. Life is more exciting when we’re competitive.”

“I’m better,” Amara murmured, her voice drowsy and her eyes already closed.

Wynter smiled. “We shall see. Quickly, Mamma, or your daughter will have you beaten. Tick. Tock.”

“Spoken like a true Olympic skater,” I muttered, taking a pill from her. “By the way, I think the saying is life is not a competition.”

“Yeah, whatever. In my school, kids better be striving for more.”

“You all are still going to go through with the school?” I asked.

I heard the story of Davina, Ivy, Juliette, and Wynter wanting to start a school that would be oriented to making strong and independent women in the mafia world. Of course, they decided not to discriminate and accept boys too.

“Of course. St. Jean D’Arc will be the greatest school on this planet.” She handed me a glass of water. “Bottoms up.”

When I didn’t move quick enough, she narrowed her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently. The woman was relentless. I put the pill on my tongue and washed it down with water.

Just as I handed her the glass back, my brother came into the room and Wynter made herself scarce. I knew this talk would happen sooner or later.

“Have you heard from Killian?” I whispered softly, watching Amara sleep peacefully, her little snores so adorable. I could listen to them all day, everything about them soothing.

He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair next to my side of the bed.

“He hasn’t given me much of an update. Just that he’ll be calling you in a few hours. I think the man has gotten your recovery schedule down.”

Black clouds dotted the sky, promising rain and giving the room a gloomy atmosphere.Occasional thunder rumbling in the distance seemed even louder amid the silence that stretched between my brother and I.

“It was a shitty way to learn I have a niece,” Basilio said from his armchair next to my bed.

“I know.” My face crumbled like an avalanche, my eyes burning with unshed tears that threatened to spill.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, switching to Italian. Amara was sound asleep, her snores never easing, but I still appreciated it.

“Shame.” My shoulders slumped. “Gio’s threats.”

A single tear escaped its confines.

“But I’m not Gio.” His voice betrayed his disappointment and how much I’d hurt him. “You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry.” Fresh tears rolled down my face, and I swiped at them with the back of my hand. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

We stared at each other for two heartbeats.

“Don’t be,” he rasped. “You never, fucking ever, apologize to me for anything. Or anyone. I put that on our bastard father.”

We took in each other’s scars, all invisible but no less painful. Gio DiLustro had put us through hell, and even though he’d been dead for years, his cruelty still followed us.

“How is Dante?” I asked, because I was scared to add another scar to his wounds. “Priest?”

“They’re all fine. It’s you that I’m worried about.”

“I’m fine.”

He came to stand in front of me, then kneeled and took my hands in his.

“How could you be? After the fucking shit Gio did to you.” His words were full of fury and disbelief, but he kept his voice low. “He took your baby away. I didn’t protect you. All those months you were gone, he kept you prisoner. Why didn’t you tell me?”

My face fell, so much guilt and pain weighing me down.

“He threatened to make your life hell. And then I started making deals with the cartels—” We stared at each other in a sad silence. “Aren’t you disappointed in me for enabling those monsters and getting people killed in the process?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “But Killian told me you’ve been working with áine King, so you weren’t exactly participating in it.”

I sighed. “What did he tell you?”

He let out a frustrated breath, his keen eyes flickering over my face. “That’s pretty much it. The fucker is staying tight-lipped.”

A reluctant smile twisted my lips. “That’s him.”

“But he’s a good one.”

“He is,” I agreed, then locked eyes with him. “I have to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

“About M-Mamma,” I said, stumbling slightly. My brother never wanted to talk about her, because he could never forgive her for leaving him behind. “I think I understand why she didn’t take you along when she left Gio.” His expression tightened. Our mother had always been a sore subject. “Liana told me that he isn’t… wasn’t… my father.”

He was so stunned his hands fell, releasing mine. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not Gio’s daughter,” I whispered, scared it would change our relationship. “I think she ran because of it. I don’t believe she wanted to leave you, but maybe she hoped that Gio wouldn’t come after her because I wasn’t his.”

Of course she was wrong, because he came after her and killed her in front of Basilio.

Burning questions rendered Basilio speechless for several heartbeats. I could see him struggling with them, hurt passing his expression, and I hated that. I would have preferred to spare him, but he had the right to know.

“And Gio knew that?”

You’re no better than a dog. Your mother was one too. Fucking bitch in heat getting knocked up. Gio’s words played on repeat, over and over again, their meaning clear.

“I believe so.”

“But we look so much like him,” he muttered, struggling to come to terms with it.

“I’m sure scientists would have a field day dissecting nature versus nurture when it comes to the DiLustro family.” I grinned, but I knew it didn’t reach my eyes.

We stared at each other again, and I knew he was remembering all the shit Gio put us through. Basilio protected me from a lot of it, but the scars were still there, and oftentimes, his own ghosts rattled the bars, threatening to swallow him. Just as mine did.

He pushed his fingers through his hair, and I took his free hand into mine.

“I believe with all my heart that she wanted to take you with her, Basilio, but she was too terrified of Gio.”

“I can’t fault her for it,” he muttered, having seen firsthand what cruelty Gio was capable of. “Do you know who your—” He seemed to struggle to push the word past his lips. “Do you know who your father is?”

I shook my head.

“I hope this doesn’t change anything between us,” I whispered, scared of losing my brother. He’d always been the one constant in my life.

He shot me a look full of disbelief.

“Never.” His gaze traveled over my face. “You’re my sister forever, and no number of our parents’ fuckups or our own will ever change that.”

His words settled over me like soft snow. The silence that followed was the kind that allowed nature to listen and promised new days. Away from the sins and mistakes of our yesterdays.