ONLINE NOVEL XO His Tesoro: Chapter 17
I rested my forehead against the shower wall as water ran down my body. Sofiya and Angelo had already left for her appointment by the time I returned. Probably a good thing since my clothes had been drenched in blood.
I watched the last of it wash away down the drain.
One of the Albanian soldiers had died while being transported back to the basement, and the other two had known nothing useful. Their screams still rang in my ears. At least I’d made them suffer for what they’d done to those girls, but we weren’t any closer to finding out if the Albanians had more women and where they might be.
I got dressed and headed to the kitchen. I needed to get something to eat and then go to the office to start figuring this shit out. The sooner Arben was destroyed, the better.
A box of cookies rested on the counter and I snagged one. I took a big bite and stopped in my tracks. It was the best fucking cookie I’d ever had. I usually stayed away from desserts—it didn’t seem right for the Mafia Don to eat sweets—but I needed to figure out where these were from.
I made myself a coffee and then grabbed another cookie to take with me to the office.
I managed to stay in my office for forty-three minutes.
Forty-three minutes of agony, my skin itching knowing that Sofiya wasn’t upstairs. There was no reason for me to feel this way, no reason for me to feel the need to know she was safe and waiting for me.
Sienna told me I couldn’t trap my wife in the apartment.
I didn’t want to trap her. I just needed her to be within reach at all times.
I slipped into the wheelchair store unnoticed by all except Angelo, who lifted his chin at me as I moved behind a tall display.
I didn’t want Sofiya to know I was here. I wasn’t even sure why I was here. The only reason I’d even set up this appointment was because as the Don’s wife, Sofiya needed the best. And I would always give her the best.
I ignored the satisfaction I felt at the thought of providing for her.
Three employees were running Sofiya through a series of muscle tests, using machines to evaluate her strength. Even when she struggled, she kept a smile on her face and joked with the staff. After a while, they moved her into a wheelchair. Sofiya focused intently on what the man in front of her was saying while a woman adjusted the height of the back of the chair. I bristled at how close the man was but forced myself to stay back as Sofiya wheeled back and forth. This wheelchair looked much lighter and better fitting than her stolen one. The back and bottom were cushioned, and my wife’s smile was fucking radiant as she spun around. My chest ached as I watched her.
“Is that seat comfortable? Is it putting too much pressure anywhere?” the woman asked.
Sofiya wiggled a bit. “No, it feels really good.”
“Excellent. As you probably know, with Ehlers-Danlos, you typically have thinner, softer skin that’s easier to bruise and tear. We want to make sure you have a cushioned seat and backrest to keep you comfortable and avoid any pressure wounds.”
“How does it feel on your shoulders?” the male employee asked.
“There’s still a strain when I’m pushing, but it’s not as bad as the other one,” Sofiya answered.
“This one is significantly lighter than your old one, so it should be much better for daily use,” the woman said.
Sofiya bit her lip. “How often should I use it?”
“Oh, well, you can use it whenever you need to,” the woman responded.
“But… I don’t know, maybe I’m relying on it too much? Like I’ll get too dependent on it if I use it all the time instead of my rollator.”
I bristled at the anxiety in her voice and braced myself for how the staff would answer. If they said anything to upset her…
“No, not at all,” the woman reassured her. “You probably have times where your symptoms flare more and then subside for a while. Has that been your experience?”
Sofiya nodded.
“You can always use your rollator when you need to, but I would encourage you to use your chair most of the time. Not only can it help when you’re in pain or experiencing dislocations, but it can also prevent them. You very well may be able to walk around if you push yourself, but you’ll pay for it afterward.”
Sofiya’s shoulders softened as if a weight had been lifted. I hadn’t realized she was concerned about this, but I should have after hearing how her father treated her when he found out about the wheelchair.
But she lived with me now, not him.
“There’s also physical therapy you can do to strengthen your muscles and help stabilize your joints,” the man said as he pulled some sort of device out of a box. “It will help keep you strong.”
“What’s that?” Sofiya asked.
“You said one of your goals is to go outside more often. This is a motorized power assist. It attaches to the back axle of your chair. It powers your chair and helps you go off-road, up hills, and just save your arms and shoulders.”
Sofiya’s eyes lit up. “How fast can it go?”
Angelo snorted. “You planning on doing some racing?”
Sofiya blushed. “Maybe. It could be fun.”
The more I watched her, the more I wanted to be close to her. For the first time in years, I felt the urge to take time off from work. I imagined spending the day with Sofiya, going outside with her how she wanted. But I had responsibilities. I needed to find an interpreter for the girls to see what information they had, and check in with Franco, who was monitoring the Albanians’ movements.
But for some reason, my feet weren’t moving to the door.
“Alright, we are all set, Sofiya,” the woman said. “We will give your husband a call once your chair is ready.”
“Thanks so much for everything. It was really nice to meet you all.” She gave them a wave as she followed Angelo towards the entrance. I met them at the door, getting some enjoyment at how Sofiya’s eyes widened at seeing me.
“Matteo,” she breathed. “What are you doing here?”
“I need you to come help me with something.” I’d made up my mind. Sofiya would come with me to the clinic to see if she could get information from the two girls. If Sofiya could translate, everything would be much more efficient.
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, okay.”
I scanned the street as we left the store, more on edge than usual.
“Thank you for setting up this appointment.” Sofiya’s voice was soft and sweet.
I cleared my throat. “Were you satisfied with the result?”
“Yeah, the new chair should be amazing.” She bit her lip. “I forgot to ask how long it will take to come in, though.”
“It will be ready in a week,” I said.
“Wait, a week? I thought it took forever to get a custom wheelchair made.”
Angelo snorted. “You don’t get it yet, do you? You’re married to the Don. Normal rules don’t apply.”
A pretty blush spread across her cheeks, and I felt like puffing up my chest.
I tossed Angelo my keys. “Follow us to the clinic.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Sofiya took my offered arm to get into the armored BMW, and it filled me with a sense of satisfaction.
Almost as much satisfaction as seeing her in my passenger seat when I rounded the car, her cheeks pink and lips smiling like she was happy to be with me.