The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,53
it’s my fault? Your men will be pleased to know.”
Alessandro smiled and leaned down for a kiss, his lips hot and searching.
We arrived at the hospital quickly, mainly thanks to Oscuro’s lack of regard for road laws. Thankfully, it was not the same place where I had given birth to Dante. The traumatic memories surrounding that day were best left in the past.
The nurse at the reception almost fainted when she took in the four of us. It was that shock that stopped her from running away, allowing me to say, “Hi. We’re here to visit our sister. Her name is Adelasia di Traglia? Sorry, we don’t have a room number.” I laughed like we were idiots.
The nurse didn’t move, eyes still huge.
“Adelasia di Traglia?” I prompted.
Slowly, she crouched down and typed at the computer. “We only have one di Traglia. She checked out yesterday.” Her fearful gaze darted to the three men behind.
I waved a hand, catching her attention. “Oh, don’t mind them. Yesterday, did you say? We must have just missed her.”
“Are you here to pick up the baby?” the nurse suddenly asked, frowning down at the screen again.
I nodded. “We are, we are. The hospital said to come down.”
She didn’t seem to notice the story change. Only nodded, stood, and waved a shaky hand, “Nurse Farrah deals with all the baby stuff. She will be in the nursery.”
We followed the nurse through the sterile halls, eventually arriving at the nursery. Parents cooed at their wrinkly newborns while nurses bustled around.
“I can’t believe Dante was that small!” I said when I spotted some of the newborns.
“He likes to eat,” Alessandro said protectively.
I rolled my eyes, still astounded at how much my baby had grown.
Nurse Farrah was confused to see us. She was a short woman, dressed in blue scrubs with little patterns of ducks on them.
“Baby di Traglia has already been taken into custody,” she said. “Who did you say rung you? Someone at this hospital?”
I tried not to reveal the poisonous cocktail of emotions swirling inside of me. “Do you know who picked up the baby?”
“I’m afraid that is confidential.”
Alessandro stepped forward, no longer bothering with small talk and niceties. Nurse Farrah paled at the sight of him, recognizing him immediately. “Who took the child? Tell us now.”
Nurse Farrah grabbed her clipboard and rushed through the pages. “Uh...yesterday...here it is! Male, di Traglia, was taken into the custody of one...Tristan Dupont.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry what?”
“A Tristan Dupont?” She looked between Alessandro and I, stepping back at the sight of our expressions. “Do you know him? Blue eyes, blond hair?”
“Oh,” I said, “we know him.”
The FBI had finally made their move after weeks of radio silence, and it was a strategic one. They had taken something that belonged to the Outfit, something that belonged to the Rocchettis. The hospital wasn’t to blame—I was sure Special Agent Dupont had been able to easily convince them he was the legal guardian of the child.
The anger that ran through me was indescribable.
Even after everything they had done, from helping the Gallaghers attack my wedding to bombing Narcisa and Sergio’s wedding reception, the Outfit had not retaliated. Violence toward a government agency was a lot more finicky than attacking some fellow gangsters.
But this...this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Alessandro was silent as we left the hospital, the only sign of his burning fury was the clenching and unclenching of his fists.
“I’m going to kill them,” he said softly to me, tone sweet enough to be a confession of love. “I’m going to kill them all.”
I pressed my lips to his cheek. “No. We’re going to do worse things to them.”
His eyes met mine. “We had a deal, my love. I handle the gangsters and you the politicians.”
“Is this agency not filled with politics and white collars?” I asked. “This is my area of expertise, Alessandro.”
I couldn’t have loved him any more than in that moment, when he asked me, “What did you have in mind?”
Behind us, both Sergio and Oscuro had grown tenser, unable to hide their own growing fury. They were as much a part of this organization as Alessandro and I, and they had taken this insult as personally as us.
I felt my plan growing in my brain, forming and stitching together. Years and years of playing by the rules, pretending, and acting the part seemed to lead up to this moment. Seemed to prepare me for this very circumstance.
I would need my husband. His men. Maybe even