Page 134 of King of Omen

‘Grazie,’ I added. ‘It’s common for Italian male friends to kiss each other on the cheek, but I’ll save that for next time.’

It was enough to tease a grin from him.

‘You’re a trip Calibrese. Let’s have a beer sometime.’

With that, I grasped I’d made a friend for life.

Saint offered me a salute and loped off as I turned to check on my woman.

She was in solid hands. The hospital care was exemplary, and soon, she was stabilised and undergoing further tests for any potential internal injuries.

She’d dislocated her forearm from shielding herself from her attackers and was also treated for a concussion, a couple of lacerations and bad bruising.

Pacing outside the room where she was being cared for, my mind raced, thinking about what might have happened if we hadn’t been so lucky.

The doctors moved her from a cubicle in Emergency to a quiet room a few hours later.

Alessio and Mauri, before long, joined me as I sat by her side, soul aching as she drifted in and out of consciousness. My eyes flicked to the bandage on her head and her plaster-cast arm. The fact she’d escaped her attackers made her a badass, survivor, fighter, and woman after my heart.

At that moment, I wanted to absorb her pain, to give my life, world and soul to her.

Mia era la mia ragione di vita. She was my reason for living.

The days that followed were a blur of activity.

Hours turned into an overnight stay, but finally, Mia was cleared to leave the hospital.

I brought her to my home to recuperate from her dislocation and head wound, which were healing up well.

Regaining her balance, however, was taking some time.

That said, she grew stronger each hour. Her resilience was admirable, and I respected how much she refused any pity or fussing over her.

While I stayed by her side, Saint was hard at work, coordinating the search for Linda.

One morning, Mauri let the Sovereign into the house.

‘Sorry to disturb your breakfast,’ the towering man remarked as he strode into our dining area.

Since the assault and kidnapping, Saint had kept a close eye on us. He’d assigned a crew to us, one more competent than the Mancinis, and they always stayed nearby but never intrusive, a fact I appreciated.

It was a warm, sunny day, and Mia and I had been enjoying the sun with coffee and croissants. The sliding doors were flung open, letting in the sunlight and warmth.

‘Join us,’ I invited. ‘How do you take it?’

‘Dark, tall, with a touch of cream, smooth like me,’ Saint quipped.

Once, I’d set the mug of rich, inky brew spiked with enriched milk before him, he shared.

‘Tony was declared dead at the scene. No charges are being laid on either of us, given the circumstances. Linda Abrazzio Gaetano was arrested late last night at a local Railway Station when she was found without a valid ticket and in possession of stolen items. She was taken to Central Police HQ, where officers were then able to link her to several assaults in the Inner West and Airport areas, including Mia’s alleged kidnapping. She is charged with wounding a person to cause grievous bodily harm and detain in company with intent to gain advantage.’

‘So that’s it?’ I asked. ‘It’s over.’

Saint shook his head. ‘Not quite. The private plane the pair held out for was grounded on my say-so. It’d been hired by a certain Neapolitan firm fronting for one Carlo Abrazzio. The pilot sang like a canary and earned himself a ride back to a Neapolitan prison. Linda will remain onshore, and she’ll be brought to trial, but you might still catch some blow back.’

‘I’ll take care of any offshore heat,’ I growled.

Valerio was monitoring the Abrazzio meltdown of epic proportions in Naples.

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