Chapter 77: Chapter 77

Vittoria Ramona Hospital

Brichese, Italy

◇ KEL ◇

"No physical activities for now. Okay? No staying up late. You need complete rest for a few days."

"Sì, dottore."

"Maximiliano, assicurati che rimanga a letto e sia idratata."

"Sì. Grazie tante."

"Check on you later, Mykaela."

I could only smile at Dr. Orcullo, my attending physician, before Miles opened the door and escorted the doctor out of the private room.  The door looked as white as the walls and had a small glass window.

The doctor was a family friend of the Falcos, looked to be in her 50s, and thankfully female this time.  She was far more polite and friendly than that snobby specialist back in the other hospital, where Miles first took me to get emergency treatment and the dreaded rape kit.

I had insisted nothing that traumatic happened,  but he wanted to be thorough.  Miles had also scheduled me for an hour-long counseling tomorrow, even if I told him I just really wanted to go home now and leave Italy.

The ER doctor and surgeon in the first hospital we'd been to stitched up two of my wounds:  one on my leg and one on my back. The injuries and bruises still ached and stang and I wished they would all just go away.

But nothing hurt as much as my ego.

I wasn't supposed to be here.

Weak. In pain. A frail, vulnerable, helpless patient.

For hours on end, I would be stuck in this darn bed, in constant pain, bored of life and just alone to rot for another couple of days.  I rested my head on the pillow, my limbs weak to the point of numb, my entire body begging to get out of bed.

Worse? I missed loads of important lectures and tests by now;  I had been gone from school for days. I should be back in my routine tomorrow.  Missing another day of major classes, lab work, and more crucial training sessions would just hurt my academic performance.

Minutes of silent self-pitying and contemplation later,  the door clicked open.  Miles stepped back into my private room.  His almost all-black black get-up just made his hair look darker.

Niccolo was right behind him, carrying a laptop. The two were talking in fluent Italian.

I remained in bed and covered by a long blanket and a thin hospital gown, thankful for the dimmed lights.  The painkillers were working but I didn't want the sedatives, hence my brain refusing to cooperate.

"Non ti ho chiesto io di indagare su Fierro." Miles closed the door quietly and approached the foot of the bed.  He was on his phone, and his shoulder-length hair was tousled and hiding most of his face.  It impressively grew back to his preferred length in a matter of months.  "Nicco."

"Still keeping tabs on the two. Stefano told me to. Fierro's their most trusted accountant. He's next." Niccolo kept talking in his muted, quite raspy voice, probably so as not to disturb my nap.

"Where's his psycho boss now?"

"Leandro? Just met up with Masha Linneker's lawyer again." Nicco tsk-ed.  "Probably considering the plea deal."

Oh shit.  Miles had also instructed Niccolo to dig up dirt on the Tomassinis.  Enzo and Leandro, particularly.  So that's why Nicco said he'd been gathering evidence against the Tomassinis for months now?

"What the fuck?" Nicco scoffed and sounded genuinely shocked. "Her phone isn't there."

"What?" Miles had his back to me. He was facing Niccolo, who sat on the couch beside the window drapes.

"It's not in the beach house anymore."

"So where is it?"

"Mykaela."

At the sound of my name, I had to stop the pretense. I sat up and sighed. "He must've taken it."

Miles frowned.

"He had my bag." Leandro never did return my personal belongings. Especially my phone. "Maybe he likes souvenirs."

"Oh."  Niccolo cleared his throat.

Then there was an awkward silence.

I didn't want to remember.  My brain should block out what happened,  but the unnerving flashbacks still popped into mind every now and then.  I couldn't just forget about the whole thing, despite my efforts and the inevitable fatigue.

Almost instantly, Miles stepped closer to me. "Sorry." He leaned over to lightly press a kiss on my forehead. "No more questions." He backed away and lifted the pitcher of water on the bedside table. "Drink up."

"I can't stay here another day." I watched him pour me a glass of the only available drink for me during my stay here in this small hospital. "I really can't."

"Why not?" Miles turned to look at me, the glass of water getting misty in his grip.

Hesitantly, with my brain scrambling for the right words, I took the glass of water he handed.  "I have to go home now."

"No."

No? Just no?  Ugh.  Not even a second of hesitation.

Frowning again, Miles furrowed his brows, his sigh afterwards louder than his last. "You're not goin' anywhere."

"I have exams, and trainings to attend." I gripped the pillow with my good arm, the one with fewer scratches and fresh bruises.

Now busy typing on his computer, Niccolo reclined on the couch and grinned. Like he was enjoying the scene before him. "Pensa a qualcosa affinché resti altri  due o tre giorni, Maxim."

"You'll stay here till the doctor says you can go. Alessio will stay. The guys outside will be on shifts."

I drank some water, imagining a few of his armed bodyguards standing right outside the door.  They weren't cops, so I didn't know how he got the hospital admin to allow it.  I didn't wanna know how, either.

"You're staying here." Miles looked like he was staring at the bruises on my wrists.  "Don't argue."

"You're leaving me here." I squinted at his calmness, not trusting it at all. Of course he was leaving me here. Obviously he was too busy to babysit. As usual. I shouldn't expect otherwise.

"I could stay here but Stefano wants me back in his office." Niccolo apologized and made a face. "What was Lorenzio doing in Belgrade, Kel? When he left you with his bodyguards?"

"I don't know..." I muttered.  "He just said, he needed to take care of something."

"He didn't tell you specifics?" Niccolo's dark brown eyes ignored his computer to regard me.

"No."

"And the girl that was staying at the beach house...she didn't see or hear a thing? Like when you were in the pool?" Niccolo asked, his voice a tad quieter.

"I don't think so." I glanced at Miles, whose eyes were focused on me with undivided attention. "I guess Alodia fell asleep before I...went outside to see the pool."

"Alodia Min? Did she tell you her last name?"  Niccolo went back to typing on his laptop with remarkable speed. His lips curved into a grin, the kind of smirk that hid a multitude of secrets.

What else did he know about the Tomassinis? About Enzo and Leandro?  "Why? Yeah. I think it's Min. Chinese mother, Korean father, she said. She also mentioned...her family lives in Cebu, a city in southern Philippines." I stayed sitting on the bed. Something in his reaction just sparked my curiosity.

"She say to you how she met the psycho? How she ended up here in Italy?" Miles asked.

"At a club where she used to work."

"What else?"

"We just...talked about family stuff, and that beach house. The renovations."

"That's it."

"Yeah. Just chatted over dinner."

"Okay,"  Niccolo replied quietly, his expression rather calm. Blank. Almost too blank.

"He never said why he...hated your uncle." I could still remember that strangely comfortable first meeting. Not just because Niccolo was there, but because of some odd sense of familiarity I'd felt while getting to know Nicco's godfather.

"Did he mention who tailed Ilya in Belgrade?" Niccolo asked.

"If it was one of his guys? No."

"Sure. Okay." Niccolo nodded faintly at Miles. Then utter silence.

Whatever that gesture meant, it seemed to upset the latter. Miles frowned before he turned to face me again.

I tried not to scowl at him. His phone was ringing incessantly in his pocket.  It meant he had to go somewhere again, which then meant he would leave me all alone in here any second now.  "You're leaving?"

"In half an hour. What d'you wanna eat?" He placed his fingers beneath my chin to slowly tilt my head.

It was sweet of him to take care of me and all, but I just wanted him to stay. I needed him right now. Not a cold, sterile hospital room and total strangers checking up on me every hour.

"Stay the night." I glimpsed the wall clock above the couch. It was well past five in the afternoon.

"I gotta meet someone in Florence."

A pang of anxiety and some fear made me scowl. "Don't leave me alone in here," I murmured. Actually, I'd never felt this anxious and terrified almost out of my wits.

Sure, the area was well-guarded, but...

Nothing beats the desperation of a paranoid psychopath.

Needless to say, powerful men like Leandro Tomassini had all the resources he needed at his beck and disposal.

"I'll try to—" Miles refilled my glass of water and sighed shortly. Some hesitation drew small lines on his forehead.   "We'll be back tomorrow."

"Don't leave. Please."

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