Page 8 of Her Dark Melody
Atlas turned to his nephew who was spooning cereal into his mouth at a rapid speed. “Sorry, Fino. I missed what yousaid.”
Fino grinned at his uncle. “I just asked if you were looking forward to seeing Papi and Vita. Bella texted me to tell me to tell me she’s going to take me horse-riding.”
“Sure, I am.” Atlas exchanged a loaded glance with Mateo, whose expression was no longermischievous.
‘Papi’ was the twin’s step-father, Stanley, and Fino adored both him and Stanley’s step-daughter, Bella. Stanley’s wife, Vita, was an entirely different prospect, unfortunately. She was the very definition of a gold digger, having married Stanley mere weeks after the death of her first husband. Stan, mild-mannered and kind, had himself been reeling from the death of the twin’s mother from cancer, and both Atlas and Mateo had been shocked at his quickwedding.
He’d apologized to them on the day of his wedding. “I need a distraction,” he said, shrugging hopelessly, “because it just hurts too damnmuch.”
The twins had accepted his new wife, mostly because of her daughter, Bella; a shy, awkward teenager, who suffered at the hands of her mother’s ambitions for her. Vita was constantly bugging Stanley to sign Bella to his record label despite her tone-deaf voice and utter lack of desire to be in the music industry. Atlas and Mateo had taken her under their wing, shielding her from the constant belittling of her mother and she, in turn, adored them andFino.
Stanley’s own biological son was another tricky situation. Cormac Duggan was a billionaire in his own right, working on Wall Street, and he had little time for the two beautiful Italian twins, thinking of them as pretty playboys and nothing more. Atlas had tried to reach out to him for Stan’s sake, but Mateo had told his twin not tobother.
“He’s a jerk, At. Don’t waste yourtime.”
Atlas knew there had almost been a fight once between Mateo and Cormac, but Mateo would never tell him the details. “It was nothing,brother.”
So, when Cormac announced he would be spending Christmas with them, Mateo had rolled his eyes but said nothing. To his credit, the one person Cormac was devoted to was Fino, who adored the older man. Mateo didn’t understand it, but shrugged itoff.
Atlas heard a female voice and then Molly, Fino’s tutor, and Mateo’s love, her sweet face breaking out into a smile, came into the kitchen. A tall, willowy blonde, Molly had been a godsend for Fino, who had struggled to connect with any of the other tutors Mateo had tried. Molly had changed all of that, and now, as Atlas watched his brother stand to greet her with a hug (no kissing in front of Fino yet, clearly), he could see the love in his brother’s eyes and immediately thought of EbonyVerlaine.
Christ, she was so sexy, it killed him. Not only that, but she was bright, and funny and kind, and everything he had been looking for. He told himself to calm down, step back, but if he was honest with himself, it was taking all his strength not to call her right now and say ‘Hang the fundraiser, let’s spend the day inbed.’
Atlas smiled at Molly, dragging his thoughts away from Ebony’s magnificent body. “You’ll be spending Christmas with us, Ihope.”
Molly smiled shyly, and Mateo nodded. “I already asked her.” Mateo turned back to Molly, who was gazing at him with utter adoration. “You’re part of this family now, Mols.” He drew his finger down her cheekgently.
They were so sweet Atlas felt like he was intruding. With a smile, he stood up. “Well, I’d better get to work. Molly, we’d love to have you for the holidays – and I hope Mateo is bringing you to the fundraisertomorrow?”
Molly nodded shyly, and Mateo grinned. “You bet your a…butt I am.” Atlas laughed as Fino giggled at his dad’s nearcussing.
“See you later,kids.”
On the driveinto the city, he noticed snow was beginning to fall and smiled. Fino would love a white Christmas. When he and Mateo were younger, they would always have winters in Italy, where the weather was much warmer, so even at thirty-five, Atlas loved the prospect of a picture-perfect Christmas. Last winter, he had spent some time in the Olympic Mountains, where he had run into his old friendRomy.
What a life-changing meeting that was,he thought now. And how far they had come. He loved working with his old friend and was eternally grateful that she had given up a surgeon’s salary to come help him build the Haven. She was so much more than just his Chief of Surgery. She was family, and part of Haven’s very heart. He was looking forward to dinner tonight, with Romy, Blue, andEbony.
His mind drifted backto the beautiful young singer. She could only be twenty-four, a decade younger than himself. Was the age-gap going to be a barrier? He didn’t think so. Their shared sense of humor, at least on yesterday’s evidence, defied any generationalmisgivings.
He couldn’t wait to see heragain.
At Haven,however, his attention was taken up entirely as a young woman, beaten and stabbed by her abusive husband, was rushed into the operating theater where Romy desperately tried to save herlife.
“Mr.Tigri?”
Atlas wasn’t an angry man by any stretch, but the interruption in the middle of life or death surgery—not that he was helping, standing helplessly by watching, praying – disturbed him. Checking his temper, he turned to the security guardquestioningly.
“I’m very sorry,” Noah Valdez said hastily. “But we have a…situation. It’s unnerving some of the residents and the police have beendelayed.”
“Go,” Romy said tersely, not looking up from the table, and Atlas didn’t dare distract her byarguing.
Still in the scrubs he’d donned to observe, he strode outside and found a man in his late twenties, railing at the security guards, his face distorted with fury as he screamed to be letinside.
“My wife is in there, and I want to see her!” he shouted as he spotted Atlas. “Now,motherfucker.”
“I don’t think so.” The anger he so rarely felt now moved through Atlas like ice as he contemplated the piece of shit who had put Romy’s patient on the operating table. “In fact, since I’ve called the police, I think it very likely you’re about to be arrested for her attempted murder. You stabbed your wifeseventeentimes. And you expect us to let you in? You’re lucky I don’t put you in the ground,motherfucker.”
He knew he shouldn’t be saying this stuff to the man, that he should let the police deal with him, but it was rare the abuser turned up at Haven. Was the man anidiot?
