His Tesoro: Chapter 26
I eyed the package of marijuana gummies on the coffee table in front of me. Angelo left a few hours ago, trading shifts with Enzo, who was at his post outside the front door. Night was falling, and I was in pain and bored.
Dr. Amato had given me the gummies, saying they could help with my pain, but I wasn’t sure about taking them. What if I had some weird reaction?
I grabbed my phone and dialed Mila. She hadn’t responded to my text so I had no expectation she would answer, so my heart leapt when I heard her voice on the other line. “Mila, where have you been? Are you okay?”
“Sorry,” she said in a whisper. “I’m being watched closely so haven’t been able to use the phone. I was just letting it charge before calling you.”
My heart clenched at the fear in her voice. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “The Pakhan has been out most days, taking secret meetings. And he keeps sending me out to all these lunches and random functions with the Bratva wives. It feels like he’s plotting something.”
“He’s always plotting.” My jaw was clenched, my fingers tapping against the kitchen counter. “And mama?”
“Hiding in her room. Haven’t seen her in days.”
“Typical,” I muttered. I guessed it was too much to ask for the woman who birthed us to take any interest in her daughter’s wellbeing. “But are you okay? The Pakhan hasn’t… hurt you, right?”
There was a beat of silence before Mila answered. “No, nothing like that. Why do you ask?”
Shit, had I given too much away? I didn’t want Mila to know about our father’s abuse towards me. Partly because I didn’t want her to spend any more energy worrying about me than she already did, but also because I was ashamed. Deep down, it felt like there must be something wrong with me to have caused it. Even though it wasn’t true, it still felt like a black mark on my soul.
“I’ve just been worried,” I said.
“Well, I’ve been worried about you. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, things are… good?”
Mila let out an excited noise. “Oh my God, tell me everything,” she whisper-shouted.
“I will, but first, Dimi just called.”
“Oh, I’m glad. He got in touch with Nikolai and got your number, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to him because I was at a stupid charity dinner. Is he okay?”
“Who knows,” I huffed. “He told me nothing. But at least he’s still alive.” I wondered if I should tell Mila about the sex trafficking threat, but decided to wait. I didn’t want to stress her out, and none of it should touch her out in Chicago.
“I think he likes being a man of mystery,” Mila said. “Now tell me your updates.”
“Well, I met Matteo’s sister, Sienna. You would love her. She took me shopping for clothes.”
“Ahh, send me pictures,” she said. “You should see the dress mama picked out for me for yesterday’s lunch.”
“Neon orange?”
“Chartreuse.”
“My second guess,” I said dryly. And then the two of us started giggling. We’d learned long ago we had to just laugh at our mama’s fashion sense.
“Okay, stop stalling and tell me about your hot husband.”
My cheeks heated. I was used to telling Mila almost everything, but for some reason I didn’t want to share how Matteo had taken care of me last night. There was something so sacred and tender about it.
“Matteo set up an appointment for me to get measured for a custom wheelchair. And I just got finished with a doctor’s appointment for my EDS.” There, that was completely true.
“Okaaay,” Mila said. “I was hoping for a juicier update but Sofiya, that’s amazing. He’s taking care of you.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah, he is.”
“You deserve it,” she said softly.
“Thanks. Is Nikolai treating you well?”
“He’s being a perfect gentleman.”
I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing at how perturbed she sounded. Nikolai had been our guard for four years, and Mila had been crushing on him from day one. She denied it, but I thought the reason she snuck out to hook up with other guys was to make Nikolai jealous.
“Don’t even start,” Mila said. “What did the doctor say?”
“Mostly just stuff I know—use my mobility aids, wrap my joints, and rest. She refilled my prescriptions and… she also gave me weed gummies. She said it could help with my pain.”
“No way,” she gasped. “Have you tried it yet?”
“I’m nervous. What if something goes wrong?”
“What’s going to go wrong? Do it! You deserve to live a little. You can cross it off the Dream List.”
“Using drugs wasn’t on my Dream List.”
“Well it should be. It’s on mine.”
“Okay then, when you come visit, you can have one of my gummies.”
“Do you think I will be able to visit?”
I swallowed hard. “I hope so. I really miss you.”
“I miss you, too. Fuck, I have to go,” her words were hurried. “Take the gummy, enjoy your high, and I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”
“I love—”
The phone cut off. I stared at it, sadness rocking through me so intensely I felt sick to my stomach. I picked up one of the purple gummies and popped it in my mouth before I could second-guess myself. Maybe it would alleviate some of the physical and emotional pain I was feeling.
I changed into one of the high-end sweatpant sets Sienna had insisted on—definitely the coziest thing I’d ever worn—and flopped down on the couch. I flicked through the limited channel selection. Apparently Mafia Dons didn’t have streaming subscriptions. Probably too busy being scary and murderous.
I flipped past the sports and news channels but stopped when I stumbled upon The Godfather. I laughed out loud. The movie was just starting. I’d never seen it, but what better way to get acclimated to my new life in the Italian Mafia?
About twenty minutes in, I started getting hungry. I grabbed my rollator and headed to the kitchen. Suddenly, every available food item sounded amazing. I peered through the pantry and my eyes landed on a bag of gourmet popcorn kernels, and inspiration struck. I grabbed the ingredients and started preparing caramel corn on the stovetop, snacking on a piece of cheese as I waited for it to be ready.
I giggled as I poured the popcorn into an extra-large bowl, balancing it on my rollator as I returned to the living room just in time to see a severed horse head on screen.
“Eww,” I said, shoving caramel corn in my mouth. The room was spinning slightly, and I fell against the cushions. My body felt relaxed and heavy, and I ran my hand along a soft throw blanket on the back of the couch.
I didn’t know how much time had passed when Matteo walked in the front door.