Chapter 3

Unspoken Truths - Chapter 3

Damian

“What have you done?” Gino roars. “Why did you hit my bambina?”

“Oops. Sorry, Mr. Morelli,” Anita coos, voice laced with fake innocence. “I thought she was going to attack you.” She winks at Sophia. I barely catch it from the corner of my eye. She is one of her minions. I knew it.

Matthew, Gino, and I drop to our knees, trying to wake Sareena, but she’s out cold, blood slowly seeping from the back of her head. And Sophia, she’s throwing a damn tantrum in the background, playing the victim.

“She needs a hospital, Damian.” Matt snaps.

I can’t speak. Can’t think, and my hands won’t stop shaking. All I can do is stare at Sareena, silently praying she opens her eyes.

Matt scoops her into his arms, cradling her head as he runs for the door, but my focus is now on Anita, and I can feel my blood turning to ice.

“Damian!” Matthew yells. “We’ll deal with these whores later. Let’s get Sareena to a hospital.”

I take a step toward Anita. Terror flickers in her eyes. “You will pay for this,” I say, my voice low and deadly. “Your brother works for me, and your father won’t survive a week after my dad gets through with him. Don’t forget, Luca’s on Sareena’s side as well. You thought Sophia becoming a whore was bad? Wait until you see what I do to you.”

The smirk she had is long gone. She knows I mean every word. She turns to Sophia for help but gets nothing.

“No matter what Sophia promised you,” I lean in, “I’ll find out why you lied. And you will pay.”

Without another word, I turn and sprint after Matthew and my girl.

__________

We burst into the emergency room, shouting for help. A Doctor and a few nurses rush toward us as Matt and I frantically explain what happened and let them know that Sareena hasn’t woken up in over twenty minutes.

They take her from Matt’s arms and wheel her away on a gurney, and it feels like my world is being ripped apart.

A doctor turns to us. “We have to notify the NYPD. This is a case of assault.” Good. Let them come. I lean in and whisper something to Matt. He nods, slipping out before anyone notices.

Just as Matt disappears, Gino and Sophia arrive. Gino looks pale, face drawn and stricken, as he rushes toward me.

“How is my bambina, son? Please tell me she’s okay,” he says, voice rough, almost broken.

At first, I stare at him, but then I clench my fists and let it all out. “I wanted you to be my Nono because I saw how much you loved her and how much she loved you. I wanted to be a part of that.” I say, voice tight. “In England, she told me how you all abandoned her, left her with a fucking nanny. But still, her love for you never wavered.”

I step forward, fury barely contained. “And now, you want to take away the one person who truly loves her? I’ve done everything to prove I’m worthy of her. Everything. And you still choose to believe that whore over the truth?”

Sophia tenses beside him, lips curling in smug satisfaction. She thinks she’s won, but there is no way she will.

I look Gino dead in the eye. “Get her out of here, old man. Or I’ll kill her.”

Sophia gasps, then shrieks. “You can’t talk to me like that! I am your fiancée!”

I laugh, cold and empty. “My Fiancée? You are nothing but a lying whore. A nightmare I’ve been trying to wake up from since the day our engagement was announced. I ran from you. I begged everyone to be released from this sham. But your family trapped me.”

I step closer, towering over her. “But I’m done running. You work for me now. Even the crack whore brothels are too good for you. You’ll be on a street corner in the slums, begging for crackhead cock to make your minimum debt.” My voice drops to a lethal whisper. “I’ll make the arrangements myself.”

Her hand flies up, ready to slap me. But Gino moves faster, catching her wrist mid-air; firm and final. “Get out, Sophia. Go home and wait for me.”

She freezes, eyes wide in disbelief. Then, like a spoiled child denied her toy, she stomps away, muttering curses under her breath. But she didn’t lose anything valuable. I did.

I sink into a chair, exhaling like the weight of the world is sitting on my chest. Gino sits beside me in silence.

“Damian, you can’t do that to Sophia,” he says after a few minutes, voice edged with warning. “She’s still my granddaughter, and I’m still your Underboss. I won’t let you take out Riccardo’s failures on her.”

“With all due respect, Gino, I don’t owe you a fucking thing. You don’t want me to be your fucking captain? Fine. I fucking quit. Just wait until Luca’s back. He won’t let you defy him, not without blood.” I lean forward, voice shaking with fury. “Sophia is mine to ruin. I’ve never touched her, but I’ll make sure every crackhead between here and the Canadian border does. In ways so vile, even the streets will spit her out.”

He sighs, rubbing his face. “I know you love my bambina. I’ve seen it, and I know Sophia. She lies. She manipulates. Schemes. She learned it from Riccardo. He used her like a pawn. But I’ve seen the proof of her claims. And others have come forward to back her up.” Gino leans in. “Prove she’s lying, Damian, and I’ll free you from Sophia. I’ll give you, my Sareena.”

A flicker of hope stirs in my chest, but then he adds the price. “If you can’t… you leave them both alone.” His gaze sharpens. “Until then, stay away from Sareena. She’s young and impressionable. I won’t have you manipulating her.”

Rage burns under my skin. “Fuck you, old man. I’ll prove it, and when I do, I’ll replace you as Underboss.” I stand and move across the room, needing distance. I don’t want this asshole anywhere near me.

An hour later, Matthew walks in, smug and satisfied.

“Did you get it?” I ask, rising from my seat.

“Oh, I got it,” he grins. “And so much more.”

Gino frowns, confused, but his expression shifts as the police arrive and usher us into a private room.

Matt hands them a pen drive. “Sixteen security feeds. Four audio channels. Everything you need.”

The officer plugs it in. The footage plays, and the room goes silent.

We all watch as: Sophia, Anita, and Janelle arrive early. All working quickly to set up items in different areas around the lounge. Gino’s group entering a few minutes later. Then our trio walks in. You can clearly see the moment Sareena and I approach Gino. Then, clear as day; Sophia signaling Anita to attack. Anita scanning for something to hit Sareena with. And finally, the attack.

None of us had noticed what Anita used, but in the video, it’s unmistakable: a pipe wrench. She yanked it from a nearby toolbox and slammed it into Sareena’s head from behind.

The officers exchange glances as the audio and video continue playing. Gino’s jaw clenches. His fingers dig into his knees, but he still says nothing. He got his proof, but the old bastard still needs more to realize that Sophia is a lost cause.

“This should be enough to bring Sophia Morelli and Anita Catalano in for questioning,” one officer says. “We should be able to hold Ms. Catalano for at least twenty-four hours. After that, the prosecutor will decide on formal charges.”

But this isn’t just about Anita being arrested. I have more to do, before the law gets too involved.

When they leave, I turn to Matt and whisper, “Bring Lorne Catalano, his wife, Eric, and that whore to the soundproof office under H2H. Tie them, gag them, and blindfold them. Then go pay Janelle Matteucci a visit. See what a little persuasion gets out of her.”

I really don’t want Gino to hear our plans. When I finally calm down enough, I walk over to Gino and say, “I’m going to prove it, old man. And when I do, you’ll throw Sareena and me the most extravagant wedding this family has ever seen. And you’ll make damn sure both you and your other granddaughter stay the fuck away from us.”

I return to the waiting room, nodding to Matt to handle the rest.

It’s been four hours. Four fucking hours. And still no information on Sareena.

_______

At 6:30 that evening, a doctor finally comes out to speak with us. Sareena is still asleep. The tests and scans confirm she has a major concussion, but no permanent brain damage; at least not that they can see. They still need her to wake up before they can be sure. A pipe wrench to the back of the head. She’s lucky to be alive.

The doctor also mentions her iron levels are dangerously low, and she’s dehydrated; both treatable, but concerning, nonetheless.

Gino exhales sharply, shaking his head. “My bambina should know better. She’s a doctor.”

The doctor frowns looking visibly confused.

I smirk. “Sorry, Doc. Your patient is Dr. Sareena Morelli, the child prodigy from Harvard. So yeah, he’s right. She should know better.”

Recognition flickers across his face. He remembers her. “I attended a lecture at Harvard where she assisted the presenter with his research,” he says, eyes lighting up. “She was quite impressive. I tried to follow her career, but after she left Harvard… there were no updates. It was like she vanished.”

I nearly laughed. Of course there were no updates, because the moment Sareena left Harvard, she became someone else entirely. Dr. Christina Moretti. And no one, not even her Nono, had a clue.