Then the front door opens again. Drago pauses in the doorway. He narrows his eyes and lowers his brow. “What’s she doing here?”
Without thinking, I tell him, “You do not disrespect my wife.” I see something odd in his reaction. In a flash, I’m determined to let her stay for the meet. Maybe she’s right. Perhaps she can act as my consigliere. At least for now.
Drago scowls when I take them both into the study.
I sit behind the big desk. Kiera pulls a chair up next to me.
Drago sits across the desk and he starts straight in with a list of demands. He says they’re from Lucas Moretti. It all sounds a lot more like Tony to me. But, whatever.
As soon as he pauses, Kiera says, “You’re the Morettis’ chief enforcer, aren’t you?”
Drago narrows his eyes and bares his teeth.
Kiera cocks her head to one side. “You’re here on your own? And you don’t see what’s happened here?”
Drago scowls.
Like she’s talking to a child, Kiera tells him, “There’s nobody with you. You drove yourself, and you were disarmed when you came through the gate. Right? Now you’re alone in the middle of our compound.”
She lowers her voice. “You’ve been sent as a gift. We could take you downstairs. When you came back up, you’d be in pieces.”
Drago’s jaws clench.
Kiera’s voice is soft. “You’re here as a peace offering, Drago. They gave you up.”
Drago’s eyes blaze. “What the fuck do you know?”
The tension in the air is hot and it almost vibrates. She impresses the hell out of me by leaving the silence and not jumping in to fill it.
Even I’m buzzing to say something. But I don’t. She knows what she’s doing and I understand it, too.
Drago is twisting in the wind. Betrayed by his own side, and he’s only just realizing it.
I wait until his face hardens. Then I tell him, “Kiera obviously knows a lot more than you do, Drago.” I lean forward. “But I’ve warned you. Talk to her like that again, and I’ll take up the Morettis’ offer and have my revenge on you.”
She shakes her head and asks him quietly, “Don’t you Italians read Machiavelli?”
The pain in my side stabs again.
She notices me flinch. Drago sees it, too.
I groan. She stands with a hand on my shoulder.
The sharp jab in my abdomen is crippling.
She tells me, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No,” I tell her. “Maybe call an ambulance, though.”
“No.” She’s firm. “I’ll drive you. It will be faster.”
“It could be nothing.”
“Whatever it is, John, it’s not nothing.”
She turns to Drago and says, quickly, “Go back to the Morettis. Tell them John appreciates their position. He’ll give their demands the proper response at the proper time.” She holds his gaze as she says, “It will be your first test.”
He growls like an animal in pain. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” Her eyes burn. “We spared you, Drago. You belong to us now.”
He bites his lip. Then his voice softens and he looks at me. “Do you want help?”
She shakes her head, encouraging me to stand. “No, Drago. Stay quiet about this. It happened after you left. You know nothing about it.” He nods. Meek. I’ve never seen him like that.
I’m fighting not to fold in half. She hurries me to the door as she tells him, “Take back the message, and don’t say a thing to them about any of this. Keep your eyes and ears open, and keep your counsel.”
Drago asks, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
Kiera has her arm around me, and she guides me out. “I know what he needs.”
Drago’s head hangs as he leaves.
Kiera calls after him, “Drago. Don’t forget what we did for you here.”
He says, “I won’t forget you, Mrs. O’Malley.”
“Not me, Drago. Us. The family. It’s the O’Malleys you owe a debt to.”
I’m close to doubling with pain, but my heart swells when I hear her tell him, “You had better not forget it.”
Chapter Nine
Kiera
John’s driver offers to take us, but I tell him no.
He pleads. “I’m his bodyguard,” he says, “I have to come with you.”
“Then do what you can to keep up.” He’s got no chance.
I take Peter’s car. It’s the fastest thing in the garage. I call ahead to the hospital, then, shifting gears and accelerating onto the highway, I pass my phone to John.
“Send a text to your dad and your brothers.” I tell him. “Let them know we’re going to the emergency room. It’s under control and I’ll call them as soon as we have a diagnosis.”
Doing that will keep him occupied while I drive.
At the hospital, an emergency team is waiting for us under the awning.
John lies on a gurney, semi-conscious from the pain. He looks so vulnerable. My stomach quakes with tension.
The stocky, dark-haired doctor listens carefully. I make a clear and detailed description of John’s symptoms as I know them.