Chapter 22—Claudius, Seven years ago

From the minute I’d heard my son’s heartbeat in yesterday’s scan, I knew something was wrong.

Actually, I got the feeling during the first scan. The heartbeat didn’t sound right to me. I’d read in my collection of books that babies and children had a heartbeat double to that of an adult.

So, during the first scan, when the beat sounded a little unlike what I’d expected, it got my attention. I even asked about it, and the sonographer told me it was normal.

The second scan cooled off my anxiety because my boy had a strong heartbeat.

It was that scan where we found out we were having a boy, and at that moment, something changed between Marissa and me.

I didn’t know what to call our marriage. If anyone were to look a little closer, they would be able to see that things weren’t as they seemed with us.

It was my idea to get married. It was my way of taking a step in the right direction to do what was right. No way was I going to have my kid growing up with me visiting every Sunday or some shit like that, and his mother seeing every Tom and Dick. I couldn’t bear the thought of it. Him growing up and living believing he was a mistake.

Sure, I’d made the mistake, but he was anything other than that.

She changed too. I saw it. Marissa changed and became a mother, pushing aside everything that I disliked about her, putting aside everything to make sure she was doing what was best for our baby. She became a better version of herself, and it was that person I tried to love.

It was this version of her that reached out to the person inside me who was trying to do the right thing.

We were those people, and I was trying to make it work. It had to.

I’d messed up a lot of things in my life. I was an absolute bastard a good eighty percent of the time, and this was me trying to be a good man.

My father was a guy who would do anything for his family. Anything. That anything had made him go all the way to LA for my mother for her to achieve a dream we weren’t part of. When she left us, he took care of Luc and me, always looking out for us first.

That was who I wanted to be. He’d be shocked to shit if I ever confessed that, but it was the truth.

In that truth I had to accept that Marissa was my wife and I would take care of her and my son. And I would love them both.

I just wished my gut feeling didn’t tell me those plans were about to change in a way I didn’t want to think about.

Dr. Braithwaite stood beside Marissa’s bed. He had paperwork. Lots of paperwork. I was sitting next to her on the bed with my arm around her.

She’d cried all night. I’d held her until she fell asleep in my arms, crying.

Yesterday, we’d come to the hospital for our third scan. It was only then that our baby’s irregular heartbeat was detected.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, then nothing for close to a minute. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, then nothing for longer than a minute.

I would never forget the sound.

It told me everything.

It was the first time it sounded like that. Terrifying.

Of course, they’d kept Marissa in to monitor the baby’s heart for the night.

Dr. Braithwaite looked like he didn’t know how to begin whatever speech he’d prepared. Not a good sign at all.

Beads of sweat formed on his upper lip, and he took off his glasses.

He released a slow sigh and gripped the paperwork tighter. “Mr. and Mrs. Morientz, the entire prenatal department have been working hard to think of every way we can save your son.”

Tears pulled at my own eyes. Better if he was silent. Sometimes silence told you everything. Things you already knew.

Marissa started shaking and sat up, moving away from me.

“Save him? It’s… come to that?” she stuttered.

“I’m truly sorry, but it has come to that stage. We thought of all the options.”

“What are the options?” I really didn’t mean for that to sound as tense and verging on threatening as it did. I really didn’t, but I noticed the wariness in Dr. Braithwaite’s face.

He knew who I was. He probably knew to be careful around me, but what could I do? Who I was counted for shit in times like these.

“As the baby is thirty-four weeks, we thought we could either deliver by caesarean or induce labor for a natural birth, but we don’t know if he would survive either of those procedures. I hoped that his heartbeat and rate would improve over night, but it… it hasn’t.”

Marissa started to cry.

“What now? What should we do now?” My hands tensed around her.

“The decision… the best decision is to do the caesarean, but we can’t guarantee anything. Your son had an unusual birth defect that we didn’t pick up earlier. These things happen, and while our equipment is advanced and we use the latest technology we can get our hands on, there are some things that we just can’t pick up until it’s too late.”

I stared at him. I knew he was trying to explain as best as he could, and he probably showed more emotion and compassion than a lot of doctors I’d come across, but it wasn’t helping.

Nothing was helping.

“Can you leave us? Please.” I needed him to go. To leave us in private to deal with the bomb he’d just dropped on us.

“Of course. I’ll need to come back in at least half an hour to prep for surgery if you decide to go ahead with the emergency caesarean.”

“Yes, we will do that. She’ll be ready in half an hour.” I didn’t know where the strength came from to give such a confident definitive answer, but there it was. Of course, we would do whatever it took to save our child.

“You understand that—”

“Leave us.” I held up my hand to him and shook my head. I didn’t want to fucking hear that the surgery might not work.

He’d already told us that.

He’d already told us there was no hope. So, he could fuck off and go prep for whatever he needed to prep for and leave us to talk.

He left, and Marissa cried harder. Hard to the point of shaking, and more to the point where she was gasping. I pulled back a little so I could look at her. She tried to look away, but I guided her face back to me.

“Marissa, I need you to be strong. It’s hard, but please. Stress will only make your pressure go up.”

She wiped away her tears, but more came. “You should go.”

“What?” I searched the solemn expression on her face. I didn’t know what she meant.

“It’s over. Just leave me. There’s no reason for you to stay. He won’t make it. I can feel it. I can’t even feel him inside me anymore.” She wept, and the tears choked her.

I gripped her shoulders. “You think I would just leave you?”

I didn’t know why I was surprised. Of course, she would think that. It wasn’t true though. I wasn’t leaving.

“You’re with me for him, and I love you for being so good to us. I tried to be what he needed, but I failed.”

I lowered my head and pressed my forehead to hers. “I love you for trying.” That was true. I never said anything I didn’t feel, so she knew that was true. “You didn’t fail, and I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens.” I moved back as I said that so she could see the seriousness in my expression.

Once again, that was right, the right thing to do. It didn’t matter what circumstances had brought us together. She was my wife, and I wouldn’t leave her. No matter what happened.

“Oh, Claudius… you’d stay with me?” She swallowed hard and looked me over in disbelief.

“Of course. Please don’t think about that now. That should be the last thing on your mind. You hear me, Doll?”

She nodded. “I think we’re going to lose him.” She gulped hard and bit her lip. “I just wanted to be his mom and hold him and love him. I just wanted something good. Ava… she was the good twin. I was just a train wreck en-route to disaster. Look what I did to you. This is what I deserve.” Her shoulders shook.

“No, it’s not.” It couldn’t be, because no one deserved this.

Taking her once more, I held her. One hand around her and my other hand resting on her belly, savoring whatever connection I had left with my son.

I knew the doctors would try, and we could hope all we want.

My gut instincts had never failed me. Not once.

Right now, they were telling me that I had no hope.

***

Crash… and burn…

I hated when my instincts were right. It was so much worse when I was right about bad things.

Marissa never even made it on to the operating table.

By the time Dr. Braithwaite checked all the baby’s vitals, he couldn’t find a heartbeat.

It was like the world ended in that moment, and Marissa and I cried together. I didn’t even know I was capable of crying until that day.

Nearly a month later, and the pain was still the same.

I dealt with it as best as I could, putting on a brave face when I was around Marissa, who was a complete mess.

Ava had come back from London to be with her.

I could tell Marissa appreciated her presence. I did too, but I was finding that I couldn’t be around either of them. I didn’t know how to console Marissa when I was so broken myself, and seeing Ava made me think of my own mess of a situation with her.

So, I headed for the best place I could be. The bar.

I didn’t call on any friends, no family, no one. I just came here by myself.

Only I didn’t drink. I just came here to think.

I took a booth around the back by the pool table and sat by myself.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I barely noticed the man who took the seat in front of me.

Joe Manello.

I blinked and focused on him, at his huge, wide eyes and pointed nose. The capo for the Manello family was the last person I’d expected in a bar like this and talking to a guy like me.

The Manellos did not like the Rossis. Neither had ever pissed on tradition by overstepping boundaries, but it was clear that one did not talk to the other.

Put simply, the Manellos didn’t like the power the Rossis had. Raphael Rossi, I should say. Chicago was his empire, and everybody knew that. Everybody knew that Chicago belonged to him.

“Joe Manello, what can I do for you?” I leaned onto the table and kept my eyes trained on him.

The corners of his lips arched into a slow, easy smile.

“I need a guy with your skills, Claudius Morientz.” Joe tightened his lips and brought his fingers together.

My gaze dropped to the letters tattooed on each finger. I didn’t know what it spelled. He moved his hand before I could guess. Honestly, it could spell shit for all I cared.

What in the ever-living fuck did this guy want me for?

“Can you be more specific?” I cocked my head to the side and allowed my hair to drift over my eye.

Joe chuckled. “You ride a mean motorcycle in the kind of wild way I need. It’s a simple job. Pay’s a hundred grand, but your role is key.”

A hundred grand to ride my motorcycle on a simple job. Sounded too good to be true.

“What kind of an idiot do you think I am?”

“The kind that wouldn’t pass up good money for a mere task of doing something he’s good at.”

I clenched my fists and rolled up my sleeves, curling my lips. I was in the worst kind of mood to be screwed with, so this better not be some game.

Joe stood and beamed at me. “I just need you for your motorcycle skills. To lead a small team. That’s it. No catch, no hidden surprise. I wouldn’t be dumb enough to piss off the capo for dearest King Raphael. If you want to accept, come to the place. You know the one. You actually have nothing to lose.”