The Mafia's Lawyer

Chapter 9 -Ava

I can’t believe he just announced to his men that I’m his. I’m not his. Not when he can’t stop being so controlling and way too protective. I mean, seriously, why did he make one of his henchmen protect me without telling me, at least? I swear I need to stay away from this man. So, now I’m just sitting in my apartment on my shitty cream, or not so cream, sofa drinking wine, and moping about the man who came into my life like a serial killer tornado.

-one week later

I’m ready to leave work, being the last one out as per usual, when my door slams open and in pours Enzo. Blood covering his torso. I rush to him.

“Oh my God, Enzo!” I scream. I can feel my heart skip a beat at the sight of him.

“I was shot—mid-torso. Call. My. Doctor.” He gets out between gasps.

I shove my hand over his to help with the bleeding. “I’m calling 911.”

“NO!” he shouts. “No ambulance, no police, no 911. My doctor’s number is in my phone.”

“Where is your phone?”

“In my jacket pocket.”

I reach inside his pocket while still trying to hold pressure on the wound.

“Password?”

“My mother’s birthday,” he says weakly. “One-four-zero-one-five-four.”

I dial the number, and the doctor picks up right away. “Please hurry, doctor, he’s growing weaker by the second.”

“What’s happening?” a male voice says down the phone.

“Enzo,” I say through tears that have started falling down my face. “H-h-he was s-s-shot. We’re at Greenwich, Jordan, and Loughlin law office. Be quick!”

I slam the phone on the ground, kneel on the floor where Enzo has now ended up and put his head on my lap. His eyes start to close, and I slap his face.

“Wake up, you asshole!” I scream fearfully.

“Wow,” he laughs weakly. “Even when I’m dying, you slap me.”

“Don’t you dare f*****g die on me, Enzo, or I swear I will kill you myself.”

“There’s that feistiness I love in my lit...tle vix…en” he whispers, and then his eyes close completely, and I feel like my heart is dying with him.

I slap him again, hoping that his eyes will open again like last time, but they don’t. I haven’t known this man long, and yet it feels like my heart is squeezing so hard it will stop any minute. I lay his head on the floor, place my head on his chest and listen. His heart is still beating, but his breathing is weak. I keep my head there and cry and cry and cry. Suddenly, the door slams open, and multiple men are running through, one of whom has a medical bag with them.

“What happened?” the one with the medical bag says. I assume that’s the doctor.

“He just came here like this. I don’t know the specifics,” I say as I keep holding onto Enzo.

“You need to get away from him, ma’am, or I won’t be able to treat him.” He says as he falls to his knees beside me, clearly trying to get near Enzo to treat him. I set Enzo’s head down, shuffle to the corner, and pull my knees up to my body and hug them. I watch as the doctor takes the bullet out and works on Enzo like he’s done this before. How many times has this happened to him? I know I know. He’s the mafia, but how much does Enzo get his hands dirty and get hurt, or how many times has he been targeted by his enemies? Some of the men start carrying Enzo somewhere.

“What are you doing?” I screech.

Someone I recognise from Enzo’s inner circle approaches me and says, “I’m Jared, Enzo’s second-in-command. Come with us, he’ll want to see you when he wakes.”

“Where are we going?” I whisper.

“Enzo’s house,” he says nonchalantly, as if that’s an obvious answer. “He has a hospital-type room in his house for if this ever happens.”

If. This. Ever. Happens. I suppose that answers some of my earlier questions. He offers me his arm, and I take it.

“I’ll take you to the house and show you to the room you can stay in,” he tells me gently.

“Okay.”

-

We enter the room I’ll be staying in, and I look around. Why is there all men’s stuff in this room? Is… Is this Enzo’s own bedroom? I look around more and notice he has a bookshelf with classics like ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’ and ‘Moby d**k’. I smile at the thought of him sitting by the fire and reading. It just seems so mundane to what I’ve seen from him. I hear a knock on the door, and in walks the doctor. He still has some blood on his clothes, and I start to worry.

“How is Enzo? Is he okay?” I say frantically.

“Yes, Miss Greenwich,” he says calmly. “He is stable. Would you like to see him?”

“Yes,” I say breathlessly.

He walks me down the hallway to another room, and as I walk inside. I gasp when I see Enzo lying on a hospital bed, in a hospital gown, looking more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen any man. He’s so beautiful. I can’t help but wonder what his actual thoughts of me are. Is he dreaming of me? Does he feel the same way I do? Overwhelmed by so many emotions for this man I can’t decipher what I’m actually feeling. Overwhelmed by the need to have this man to myself and finally give in to the lust. Once he is awake that is. n*********a isn’t my thing. I’m just so happy to see him alive, even if he doesn’t know I’m here. I hope he knows in his heart of hearts that I’m here for him. I jump when I feel the doctor come up behind me.

“He’s in a medically induced coma to help with some brain swelling we found when we did scans. Jared is going to be running the mafia in the interim. He says you can stay as long as you want for however long it takes for Enzo to get better. He said Enzo would have wanted that.”

Would you want me to see you like this? Be by your side? I can’t help but feel a warmth run up my spine. What has he told his second-in-command about me? That doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that Enzo comes back to me, because when he does, he isn’t going anywhere. f**k that, he’s a client. f**k that he’s in the mafia. f**k that, he has more enemies than Satan himself. This man is f*****g mine, and when he wakes, I will make that clear to him. Just like he made it clear to his men that I am his.