Chapter Nine
Lonzo saw the exact moment when Jordana went back to hating him.
She didn’t cuddle. She waited until he had recovered and was lying sated beside her before she dragged herself from the bed.
She didn’t cover her nakedness but her jerky movements betrayed her inner conflict. He could smell anger and regret on her as she went to wash him off her in the bathroom.
She avoided eye contact when she got out. She marched to her closet and pulled a couple of items: white shirt, a pair of matching white underwear and pajama bottoms.
Her action gnawed at his raw nerves and made him want to punch a hole through a wall. “Hating yourself again?”
She halted as she was tying the strings of her pants. She looked over her shoulder to give him the briefest of glances before resuming her task.
“Yes,” she answered, her voice hallow.
That. Fucking. Hurt.
He wanted to shake her for not even denying it. “We both wanted it.”
“It’s just sex,” she said, throwing his words back at him.
This wasn’t going the way he envisioned it to be. He sighed as he jumped off the bed to pick up his discarded clothes from the floor.
“I’m not sorry it happened,” he said as he pulled his shirt on.
He stole another glance at her, unable to stop himself.
Her skin was still flushed after being made thorough love to.
It wasn’t just sex. Not for him. It was never just sex with this woman.
She was the first and only woman he’d made love to.
But now, she wanted him to leave her the fuck alone.
“I’ll have a word with the officers,” he asked, trying to make his voice neutral.
“I’ll join you. I want to hear for myself what’s being done to get Gianna back—”
“I’m doing everything—” he said.
“I didn’t ask you to be here—” she snapped.
He grew extremely annoyed.
“Dio! Whether you like it or not, she’s also my child! Can’t you forget our differences for a moment until we have her back?”
A knock on the door prevented her from replying.
Lonzo went to open the door.
It was the detective he spoke to earlier.
“Did they make contact, detective?”
The man shook his head. “They haven’t. And it’s past the period they gave us.”
“What does it mean?” Jordana asked.
“It means… we have to wait,” he said.
“Wait?! Wait until they’ve killed my poor daughter?! Damn it, just give them the money so we can have her back!” She was crying earnestly now, hot tears streaking her cheeks.
It broke his heart to see her upset.
“We cannot just give them the ransom, miss. Protocols and procedures have to be followed—” the detective answered for him.
Lonzo drew her into his arms.
“Let me know as soon as they give a ring,” he addressed the police officer.
“Will do, Mr. Vitale—” the man replied as he turned to leave them.
With a nod, Lonzo led a grief-stricken Jordana inside the room. He made her lay on the bed and didn’t leave her side until sleep claimed her.
He rubbed his reddened eyes and slumped to the chair beside the bed, watching her sleep. His mind was trying to figure out how to deal with the situation as best as he can. His gut told him that if he wanted to see his daughter alive, they had to move now.
Lonzo’s mind was made up. He would deal with this his way, with minimal involvement from the police.
Thirty minutes passed before Blackwell called him.
“Yes?”
“We got their location. It is a small villa fifty miles from Knightsbridge. We had intercepted their plan. They will ask that the money to be transferred tonight, but they also made arrangements to move her to Palermo.”
His hunch was right. Those filthy bastards had no intention of giving his daughter back. They intend to use her as a cash cow. If he refused to cooperate, they would have no qualms killing her.
“They will call you on your mobile any moment. They know Ms. Jordana’s house is full of cops and will not risk the police getting involved.”
“I’ll take care of the police. We stick to the original plan.” He went on to discuss with Blackwell their planned course of action.
True to his word, his mobile phone rang after he had spoken with his security guy. The number on the screen didn’t register. He knew it was Camorra.
“Vitale,” he answered.
“Signore Vitale. How are you?” the person who called spoke in fluid Italian.
“Camorra. I gave you my mobile number so you can send me a picture of my daughter.” he answered back in Italian. “You still owe me a picture.”
“Ah, yes…sorry I may have overlooked that. Been busy with business. I’ll send you a picture as soon as this call is finished.”
“I would appreciate that,” he answered, switching back to English.
“About the money—”
“We trade. The money for my daughter.”
The man on the other line chuckled. “You have a lot of nerve, Vitale. I could just as easily slit her throat.”
Lonzo almost exploded. He wanted to get his hands on this man’s neck and squeeze the life out of him.
Stay cool, Vitale. He’s trying to rattle you.
He would not lose Gianna. He would get her back no matter what.
“You’re not stupid, Camorra. Do that and you will lose you biggest windfall,” he said smoothly.
He heard Camorra chortle, amused. “Man, they were right. You do have balls. Okay, we will have a fair trade.”
“I want my daughter safe before I transfer the money.”
Camorra became silent, weighing his options.
“Fair enough. You can have your brat back… but one wrong move and both of you will be dead. Capisce?”
“So it’s a deal, then?”
“Yes. You got yourself a deal, signore.” Camorra went on to give him the address of the villa that Blackwell mentioned earlier. “Be here in two hours. And remember not to invite the cops, else—”
“I’ll be alone,” he answered before the line went dead.
“You’re not. I’m coming with you.”
He turned to find Jordana wide-awake, her face determined.
Merda! She heard everything!
Lonzo was pissed at her. He tried to reason with her, pointing out that she was adding fire to an already precarious situation.
But she was adamant. Though she knew of the danger, her instincts as a mother were stronger. She wanted to see her daughter. Danger be damned.
Lonzo got another call from the kidnappers. The exchange would finally happen. They had to make their move now if they wanted to reach the place on time.
They were so pressed for time that they couldn’t even afford to argue about it.
“Alright. You can come...but no heroics. I want you to calmly walk the hell out of there after you got Gianna. You understand?” Lonzo’s voice was clipped with anger.
“Crystal,” she replied.
Getting out of her house without arousing suspicion from the police had been tricky but they were allowed to leave when she pretended to be hysterical. Lonzo said, he’d take her to the hospital. The police bought their ruse and allowed them to go out.
It took them another hour to reach the drop-off place.
It was near the riverbank and surrounded by a thick wall. The place was heavily-guarded. Several sentries can be seen walking along the perimeter.
Jordana swallowed as fear began to set in.
Lonzo gave her a sideways glance.
“You don’t have to come. You can stay inside the car and wait for me here—”
“No. I’m coming with you.”
He rubbed his temples, unhappy with her answer.
“Remember what I told you. These are dangerous men,” he said in a very serious tone.
She nodded.
He drove the car carefully behind a huge tree.
“This is it. No heroics,” he warned her again.
“I won’t do anything stupid.”
“You’ll be the death of me,” she heard him say before they left the security of their car.
Lonzo was furious at Jordana for endangering herself like this. But it was no use arguing when she already made up her mind. He had to discuss the change of plans with Blackwell. Originally, three of Blackwell’s retainers would penetrate the vicinity for the takedown. The rest of the team would remain outside the villa in case he didn’t return after the prescribed period.
But because Jordana got into this, they had to add three more snipers so they could be covered.
Blackwell tried to convince him earlier that the place was easily breached. His security team had studied how the villa was guarded. Blackwell also checked the number of bodyguards Camorra had.
“This operation will be a textbook op, boss. We can handle it,” Blackwell reassured him.
Blackwell was the best in this business but Lonzo was beginning to question his reasoning because Jordana was with him.
Two clicks at his rigged ring would be the signal for the takedown.
Lonzo checked his watch. Ten more minutes. He and Jordana slowly made their way toward the guards manning the gates.
They were expecting him.
They frisked him for guns and then allowed him inside. One of the guards was leering at Jordana, intending to frisk her as well.
“You touch her and I will kill you with my bare hands,” he warned the man in Italian, holding Jordana close to his side.
The man stepped back a bit, grinning. “Apologies, signore. Can’t help but admire a woman as fine as her.”
He didn’t answer, scowling at the man while leading Jordana forward to the main courtyard, toward the dilapidated mansion. So far, everything was going according to plan.
His eyes studied the structure. He knew there were two doors at the back of the mansion, near the pool. One or two snipers were positioned there.
Camorra’s group would come from the kitchen, where a connecting door led to the cellar. His men also had that covered. The kidnappers won’t be able to escape through that exit.
All these fucks would die tonight.
Lonzo checked the time. Five minutes before the designated time.
When he looked up, he saw Camorra approaching with his three hired muscles. One of the bodyguards was carrying Gianna.
“Gianna!” he heard Jordana sob at his side.
“Shh. Don’t show any weakness in front of these bastards, cara. Hold it in. We’re minutes away from getting her back.”
“O-Okay.”
“Stay behind me.”
Jordana nodded and did what she was told. He returned his attention back to the approaching party. He masked his emotions. These men fed on the weaknesses of others. He had to be calm and calculating like them.
Don’t lose your grip, Vitale. Your woman and child depend on you.
“Signore Vitale! Welcome to my humble abode!” Camorra’s booming voice called out to him in his native Sicilian, his manner deceivingly friendly. But Lonzo could see right through this piece of shit.
“We thank you for your hospitality. But you have something that I want back,” he remarked casually while looking at his daughter. “You never even sent me that picture.”
Camorra grinned, his cold eyes looking behind him, at Jordana. “It seems you brought extra company.”
Lonzo shrugged, despite the trickle of fear he felt. “Can you blame her? She misses our daughter.”
That made Camorra snigger. “Okay, so let us get down to business. Shall we begin?” the man said before signaling one of his men.
One of three bodyguards approached, carrying a laptop. It was already switched on and connected to an offshore bank in the Cayman Islands.
“I want my daughter in Jordana’s arms before I make the transfer,” he insisted to Camorra.
“Come on now. I’m a businessman—” Camorra appeared like he was about to disagree.
“As I am,” Lonzo pushed.
A few seconds ensued before Camorra grinned like a mad dog.
“Ah, Mr. Vitale. You know how to drive a bargain,” the man said before turning to the guard carrying Gianna.
As his daughter was being given to Jordana, he almost gave a sigh of relief. His finger was itching to press his ring.
Not yet.
Gianna raised her small, chubby arms when she saw her mother. Lonzo saw how Jordana snatched their child from the arms of the criminal.
Jordana held Gianna and hugged her tight, her tears flowing freely again, her love for their child unmistakable. He was deeply moved, strengthening his resolve to get them back to safety.
Lonzo went back to the task at hand. After entering his account details, he transferred the amount to Camorra’s.
The transaction was finished in less than twenty seconds.
He showed Camorra the proof of the transaction.
The leader barked an evil, sinister laugh that made the hairs on his neck stand up. He sensed something was about to happen…
He was about to walk back to Jordana and Gianna when he heard the sound of guns being cocked behind him.
He froze in his tracks.
He faced the ring-leader.
“Vafanculo!”
Camorra gave another low, devilish laugh.
“Forgive me, Signore Vitale. I have every intention of returning your daughter scratch-free. However, bringing her—” he pointed at Jordana, “—made me think that I must have a taste. She’s one fine morsel.”
Jordana whimpered.
“Lonzo—?”
His eyes narrowed in fury. “Over my dead body, porco dio!”
He pressed his ring to give the signal to Blackwell and the boys.
“Oh, you will be…I promise you,” Camorra threatened before dropping the order to his three minions. “Get the woman, kill him and the b—”
Camorra wasn’t even finished talking when his men went down. Dead with bullets holes on their foreheads.
“What the...?!” Camorra exclaimed, taken aback.
Lonzo took advantage of the Sicilian’s surprise to make a run for Jordana and Gianna.
He saw Camorra run for one of the exits. The criminal pulled a pistol from his jacket and aimed the gun toward Jordana and Gianna’s direction…and fired.
“Nooo!” Lonzo shouted as he jumped to shield them with his body.
Everything came in slow-motion. He heard Jordana’s screams behind him.
And then the physical shock as the bullet hit him squarely in the chest.
One. Two. Three…several seconds passed before the agonizing pain reverberated through him.
He fell to his knees, his hands clutching his chest as he gulped for air.
He turned his head to Jordana and his daughter. Took one last look at them.
They are safe, he thought before everything went black.
Jordana clutched her head with both hands as she sat outside the operating room.
Her eyes hurt from lack of sleep and from crying while her head was about to split open from a massive headache. But it was nothing compared to the incapacitating pain she felt in her heart.
Seven hours.
It has been seven hours since Lonzo was wheeled inside the operating room after he threw himself into the path of the bullet intended for her.
The bullet struck near his heart, grazing an artery.
For hours, doctors had been trying to clamp the blood vessel and the bleeding. They had been unsuccessful so far.
Blackwell’s team took down Camorra after Lonzo got shot.
Jordana felt no pity, not even remorse for the death of the man. May God forgive her, but that man was evil.
She left Blackwell to deal with the police and so far, he had managed to keep them away from her after they got her statement.
She left Gianna under the care of Mel, who flew in with Rocco after they learned what happened. It enabled her to focus her full attention on Lonzo.
Her eyes began to blur with tears again.
This was all her fault. If she did not insist on coming, this would never have happened.
Lonzo saved her and Gianna’s lives.
She felt tremendous waves of guilt wash over her, as she recalled how she taunted him after they made love last night. All he wanted was a second chance. But she rejoiced at throwing emotional daggers at him and reveled in his pain.
She closed her eyes.
She had only herself to blame.
If she’d only been honest with her feelings, if she’d only given him a bit of hope…she could have gotten her happily-ever-after sooner. But she let pride get in the way of a possible reconciliation. She wanted to hurt him back as much as he had hurt her.
And now, she might lose him forever.
“Jordana.”
She raised her head and saw Thio Fredo, carrying a cup of coffee for her.
He looked tired and weakened. He seemed to have aged ten years in mere hours from the worry and uncertainty.
She gratefully accepted the coffee.
“Any news from the doctors?”
Jordana shook her head slowly. Her throat felt so tight, she couldn’t speak.
An hour had passed since they were given a status on him. For hours they were told the same prognosis. They were still operating on him to repair the damaged artery. That they were having a hard time.
She felt so anxious and helpless.
She was told his chances were slim.
“It will be touch and go, miss…” she remembered one of the doctors telling her in the emergency room.
If she would lose him…
No, she mustn’t think that!
She prayed for a miracle. Like Thio.
Surely with two of them fervently praying, God would grant them one?
Twenty more minutes of silence passed before one of the doctors, Dr. Greene, left the operating room, his face fatigued.
Thio Fredo and her held onto each other, their eyes full of dread and apprehension.
“Immediate family?” Dr. Greene inquired.
She nodded.
The doctor began to relate what transpired inside the OR. Lonzo had to be revived twice before the artery was successfully clamped. Though Lonzo wasn’t out of the woods yet, his chances of surviving the ordeal had greatly improved after the bleeding was stopped. After a while, the doctor uttered a polite farewell.
The relief was overwhelming.
She weakly took a seat.
“He will make it.” It was the first statement that came out of her mouth.
Thio Fredo turned and gave her a quivering smile.
“Yes, he is. My boy is a fighter. He’s tenacious.”
“Yes, he is.”
“He’s made of stronger stuff than me or his old man combined.”
She smiled at the old man. “He’s determined to live.”
“He has a lot to live for.”
“Yes, he does.”
Thio Fredo looked at her earnestly. “You still love him.”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry I made things hard for him,” she choked. “You should hate me.”
Thio Fredo gave her a hug. “I can never hate you. Now, you need to rest.”
She shook her head in reply. “I’m alright. I’ll stay here.”
“No, my dear. Go back and take a rest. Just a few hours. Check on Gianna. I’ll take over from here—” his voice brooked no argument.
She didn’t want to leave but she knew Thio Fredo was right. “If—”
“I’ll call you as soon as his condition improves.”
With a heavy heart, she stood and left the hospital. As she drove home, she continued to pray for this miracle to continue.
After checking on Gianna, who was sleeping in her godmother’s capable arms, Jordana went off to her room to take a nap. She woke up feeling a bit recharged.
She dressed and got ready to leave for the hospital.
Rocco would be joining them tonight. He was already waiting for her in the living room when she came down. He insisted to drive, despite her protests.
“Dana, you’re in no condition to drive,” he said. “You’ve been stressed, twisted and wrung dry. Let me do this for you and for Lonzo.”
She finally relented.
Thio Fredo was waiting for them at the hospital’s entrance. He quickly filled them in.
Lonzo had been wheeled out of the operating room and transferred to an ICU. It was early days yet but if no complications arose within the next thirty-six hours, he won’t need follow-up surgeries.
Jordana closed her eyes and mouthed a silent prayer of thanks.
In her mind, she saw the man that she loved.
He was going to live and her child will still have a father.
They got their miracle.
For the next day or so, the three of them continued to stay at the hospital, waiting and taking turns in sleeping at the couch of the hospital room’s receiving area.
Both Rocco and Thio Fredo scolded her for not getting enough sleep.
“You need to sleep, Dana. It’s either you do or you might end up in this hospital, too!” Rocco admonished. She reluctantly took a nap.
She didn’t know how long she’d slept. She just felt someone shaking her shoulder, trying to wake her up.
It was one of the ICU nurses.
She saw that both Rocco and Thio Fredo were both asleep in the chairs.
“Miss Almueda?”
She almost jumped, instantly anxious.
“Lonzo. Did something go wrong? Did something happen?!”
The nurse smiled reassuringly. “Mr. Vitale is fine, miss. He just woke up and was asking for you. I already checked with Dr. Green and he said it’s okay to let you in as long as it’s only for a maximum of ten minutes.”
Elation coursed through her. “It’s really okay to see him?”
The nurse nodded and continued to smile.
She hastily stood up from the couch. Her hands hurriedly ran through her hair before she tried to straighten her creased shirt in a vain attempt to look at least presentable.
She didn’t even have lipstick on.
“You look absolutely beautiful, miss. Don’t worry about it—” the nurse commented.
Jordana honestly thought she looked like a wreck but she didn’t care.
Lonzo was awake. Nothing else was more important to her than seeing him.
She almost ran to follow the nurse.
Once she got there, the nurse left them alone.
Jordana’s heart tripped when she saw him.
A gamut of tubes, drains, drips and medical apparatus were attached to him.
His face was pale and he looked weak. His eyes were closed.
Jordana held the doorknob tightly. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying when she saw his present condition.
She steeled herself to approach him, reminding herself that this was not the time to be sissy. She had to be strong for her man.
His eyes slowly opened when he sensed her approach.
He might be weakened but his eyes were on fire.
Her hand trembled when she touched his hair and finally his face.
“L-Lonzo…” she began but stopped and couldn’t speak as her hand continued to touch his face lovingly, her eyes blurring with tears.
Lonzo smiled at her weakly.
Earlier, she had rehearsed the things that she would like to say to him. But now her mind was blank.
They had a lot to talk about. She wanted to ask for his forgiveness for keeping Gianna away from him. But she couldn’t start.
“Jordana…cara mia,” he murmured.
Tears began to fall on her cheeks.
“Don’t cry, amore.”
“These are tears of joy.”
She bent to kiss his lips
.“I-I….there’s so many things I want to tell you all at once…I don’t know where to begin…”
“It is I who should beg for your forgiveness.”
“There’s nothing to forgive…it’s my fault…God, you almost…”
He shook his head, stopping her. “No, cara. I should’ve believed you from the beginning. Instead I accused you of everything, of being a whore. I’m sorry for doubting the baby…”
“Shhhh. I forgive you.”
“I want to make it up to you and Gianna—” he stopped to close his eyes for a moment. He was exhausted.
“It doesn’t matter, Lonzo…don’t tire yourself. We’ll have all the time to talk about it when you’re well enough.”
But Lonzo wasn’t finished yet. He took one of her hands and put it on top of his chest. Right above his heart. She could feel every beat of it against her palm.
“Mi hai rubato il cuore. C’è un vuoto dentro di me che solo tu puoi colmare.”
“What..?”
“You have stolen my heart. There’s a hole inside me that only you can fill.”
“You’ve stolen mine, too. We’re both thieves.”
He smiled.
“Sei tutta la mia vita…sei il mio tutto, Jordana.”
“And what did you just say?”
“That you’re my whole life, my everything, Jordana Almueda. As long as my heart continues to beat…each beat will always be for you…” he said this with quiet intensity. Like he was vowing his life, his soul for her. “Ti amo.”
She was openly sobbing now.
“I love you, too. God…how I love you!” she finally said the words, no longer afraid.
The door of the room opened. It was the nice nurse, reminding her that her visitation time was almost over.
She straightened and nodded at the nurse as she wiped her tears from her cheeks.
She turned her attention back to her beloved, the love of her life.
She bent to kiss him on the lips.
“You better mend soon,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “We better make up for all that lost time—”
Lonzo’s gaze held her for a moment. “Lock the door,” he said this softly that she almost didn’t catch it.
She stood up and looked at him quizzingly, unsure if she heard him right. “You want me to lock the door?!”
His hooded eyes gave her a look. A sensual, heated look before subjecting her to one of his slow, smoldering smiles that melted her.
“You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed, yet his outrageousness made her whole body heat up in flames.
“Not that. You have a very dirty mind, Miss Almueda.”
“Then what…?”
He caught her hand once again.
“It’s been hell waiting for you, cara. Don’t make me wait anymore. Sposami.”
“What did you just say?”
“Sposami. Marry me, cara.”
In answer, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She didn’t want to wait either.
They will be getting married tomorrow. As soon as she could get a wedding dress and a judge…