Scorned Love: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Scorned Fate)
Scorned Love: Chapter 11

Did no one answer their phone anymore?

I left two voicemails for Trevor, and one for Ivy. Ivy thought just because she told me not to contact her, I was complying. Fuck that. She was my responsibility. They were probably dealing with the furniture delivery and didn’t have time to answer their phones. A hand clasped my shoulder from behind.

“Mom sent me to find you,” Matteo said. “She’s about to serve dinner. Why are you hiding here?”

“Trying to contact Trevor.”

“Why?” Matteo arched a brow. “So you can tease him about missing Mom’s lamb roast? He’s on Ivy duty, right?”

“Ivy’s not answering her phone, either.”

Bianca came into the room. “It seems Mom sent a search party to find you. Why are you frowning? Mom made Irish cheesecake, extra booze. You should be smiling.”

“Have you talked to Ivy?” I asked. “She’s not answering.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised since you pissed her off earlier,” Bianca retorted. “She messaged an hour ago. The furniture is late.”

“I already know that.”

“Then why are you bugging her?”

We returned to the dining room. Sera grinned at us knowing the platter of roast lamb she was carrying was a family favorite. Aunt Carlotta, Uncle Paulie, and Dom were already seated around the table. Xander was keeping my stylish aunt occupied with fashion conversation.

I followed Sera to the head of the table where she lowered the platter. Dad was the designated carver of all things meat. The aroma of charred lamb fat, garlic, and rosemary should have whetted my appetite, but my gut was a tight fist of nerves.

Something was wrong.

Sera spun around, surprised I was in her personal space. “No picking at the roast and don’t ruin the presentation before Dad cuts into it.”

“Have you heard from Ivy?”

She screwed her mouth to the side in her attempt to recall the last time she communicated with Ivy. “Not since six. She was griping about the delivery people being late.”

“Is Ivy not going to make it?” Xander asked from across the lengthy dinner table.

“Have you heard from her?” I asked.

“You better do it, Xander,” Bianca said. “I don’t think she’ll answer if it’s Nico.”

“Bro.” Matteo nudged my back. “What did you do?”

I ignored him and stared at Xander while he waited for the call to connect. He shrugged. “Voicemail, they’re busy.”

“Trevor’s not answering too.” Apparently, Matteo tried to reach the Arrow. “The furniture is probably already there.”

Dom and I locked eyes. My cousin said, “Call her again.”

Once more, I exited the dining room and crossed the opening of the kitchen, spotting Mom and Dad toasting each other. I would have teased them with their sickening sweetness, but no trace of levity remained in my mood. An uneasy feeling plagued me all day, which was now a full-blown crawly feeling over my skin mixed with rising panic.

“Where are you going?” Dad asked, mid-sip.

I raised a finger to give me a minute and called Ivy again.

When the phone connected, a loud crash in my ear wiped away my initial relief with insidious dread.

“Ivy!” I roared.

Voices. A pained cry. Ivy!

None of those voices sounded like Trevor.

They sounded malevolent. Malicious. Evil.

More crashing. Mayhem. More men shouting. I heard Ivy’s taunting voice, but it was tinged with fear that threw my heart into my throat.

“What’s going on?” Matteo hurried to my side.

The words wouldn’t come. My accelerated heart rate competed with my ragged breathing. I headed for the foyer of my parents’ row house. “I don’t know. Somebody…” I heard her yelp. “Fuck. Ivy…talk to me.”

“Nico!” Her scream sounded far away. My blood ran cold and the hair on my arms stood on end.

A sickening cracking sound came over the line before the phone went dead.

“Fuck. Fuck. She’s in trouble.” I was out of the house. Matteo was behind me and apparently Dom had followed us, too.

“I’m driving,” my cousin said, bleeping the locks of his Escalade that was parked in front.

I slid into the back seat while Matteo got in beside Dom. I needed space. I was this whole nuclear black hole about to explode and having someone sitting beside me wasn’t a good idea.

Matteo was talking to a 911 operator.

Rarely did the family involve the police, but every second counted. From my parents’ residence to SoHo was twenty minutes and with the evening traffic, maybe even more.

“Do we have anyone who can get there sooner?” My voice came out guttural.

“I was thinking about that, but no,” Dom said.

“Nine-one-one said there’s already a call that originated from that address.”

“Is Ivy all right?” I demanded.

“They’re not giving out any information.”

The entire drive was fraught with tension and anxiety. Red shouldn’t be the color of brake or traffic lights. It worsened the agitation. A red flag in front of an enraged bull.

“What exactly did you hear?” Dom asked.

“I dunno,” I mumbled. “I can’t, okay?” I punched the side of the window.

“Bro, if you break—” Dom warned.

“Fuck you, shut up.”

The two men glanced at each other.

“What?” I snapped.

“Is there something going on between you and Ivy?” Matteo asked.

I was too raw to come up with an excuse or an explanation of what Ivy meant to me. We fucked. Once. It was incredible. It blew my mind. I’d avoided her until she got her deal with Glamourique settled. I made sure that fucker Edward Sinclair wasn’t anywhere near her. My research on him found something that pissed me off, but I hadn’t confronted Ivy with it yet.

As far as she was concerned, we were done.

We weren’t. Far from it.

At my lengthy silence, Matteo groaned. “Fuuuuck. Please tell me you didn’t.”

“That’s between me and Ivy.”

“Shit.” Dom gave a shake of his head.

“Sera doesn’t know,” Matteo hedged.

“You know what? I don’t give a shit because there might not be anything to give a shit about if Ivy is dead.” My voice rose to a roar with the last word. “And is this even the time to ask this?”

“Yes, because we gotta know where your head is,” Matteo said. “Are you compromised?”

“I’m not fucking compromised. And don’t fucking ask me to stand down because you wouldn’t have when Sera was kidnapped.”

“Sera is my wife.” There was an edge to my brother’s voice. No matter how important Ivy was to our circle, for Matteo there was no comparison. So I shut my mouth and sat in my frustration.

Cars honked, vehicles weaved, cut in front of each other rudely. Dom cursed in Italian and flipped off drivers left and right. Everything agitated me even more.

“I think it’d be easier if I hoofed it.” I wasn’t being facetious. My skin was stretched over flexed muscles, energy wanting to break free. I needed an outlet for all this caged aggression.

“Yeah, you could be right.”

I shoved open the door at the intersection.

“I’ll come with you,” Matteo said. I didn’t argue. If cops were already there, I would need someone less hotheaded than I was to deal with them.

A little over five minutes later, we spotted the flashing lights in front of Ivy’s building. My anxiety skyrocketed. When we got there, four cruisers blocked the road leading to the loading dock of the building.

“Let’s go from the front.”

The minute we stepped inside, a cop intercepted us.

“Gentlemen, are you residents of this building?”

“I called nine-one-one to report the home invasion,” Matteo said.

The cop shook his head. “It’s one helluva home invasion.”

“Are Miss Wu and Mr. Hayes okay?” I gritted.

“Excuse me, who are you?”

“Nico and Matteo De Lucci. Mr. Hayes is an associate and he was guarding Miss Wu.”

“Well, he did a badass job,” the cop said, not expanding on their conditions and instead talked to his shoulder radio. “I’ve got Matteo and Nico De Lucci here. Did you say Miss Wu gave permission to send them up?”

The radio crackled. Yeah. Send them up.

When the cop returned his attention to us, there was a guarded look in his eyes. “Dominic De Lucci’s your cousin, right?”

“Yeah.”

The cop gave a brief nod, but Matteo and I were so used to those looks. The ones that said we know who your family is and we should leave you all to your war. Not that I blamed them. If Joe Lollipop was in front of me right now, not to mention the Scavos, I didn’t know what I would do.

We got into the express elevator to the top floor.

“She’s fine,” Matteo assured me. “And Trevor is a tough motherfucker.”

“Brother, I appreciate the sentiment, but until I see Ivy and Trevor with my own eyes…please don’t.”

It wasn’t about feelings, either. It was guilt. I felt like it was my fault. What did I miss? I was in charge of this.

When the elevator opened to Ivy’s floor, the door to her loft was wide open. Another uniform stood there.

“Are you the De Luccis?”

“Yes,” I said, jaw clenched.

Same look in the cop’s eyes, as if the whole thing was our fault.

“Let them through.”

Drops of blood trailed from the service elevators down to the hallway, where it finally became a big puddle in the foyer. Trevor was lying down beside it. He was flat on his back, still getting stabilized by the EMT. He was pale. His shirt was off. It appeared to be his shoulder.

“Hey, man,” he managed.

“You don’t look too bad,” I attempted to inject humor. My brain was in priority survival mode. Trevor was alive, so my eyes scanned for Ivy. She was in the kitchen sitting on a barstool. She had a gash on her forehead and her cheekbone was swollen and starting to color. A violent impulse surged through my arms and clenched my fists with the urge to smash something. Fortunately, nothing breakable was within reach. Matteo gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Go to her. I’ll stay with Trev.”

I didn’t need to be prodded twice. All I could see was Ivy. I strode toward her with purpose. Her eyes were already on me, and I held them. I hadn’t defined what she was to me yet, but at that moment, she meant everything.

“Are you all right?”

From the looks of it, she gave one hell of a fight.

“You should see the other guys.”

“Guys…how many.”

“Three.”

My jaw locked. Jesus.

“Trevor saved my ass, shot them.”

“Why wasn’t he with you?”

The EMT glanced at me. “Save the questions for later. She needs to go to the hospital for a thorough examination.”

“I’m fine.”

Ignoring her, the EMT continued. “She received a glancing blow with a steel pipe. She’s not fine.”

I gave Ivy a stern look. “We’re going to the hospital. No questions.”

“Trevor…”

The EMT responded. “We’re taking good care of him. See?”

“I don’t need a fucking wheelchair,” Trevor growled, but after a few words exchanged with Matteo, he got into the stairchair the emergency personnel used.

A man who looked like a detective came into the kitchen and addressed Ivy, “We’d like a word with you if possible.”

“I’m taking her to the hospital first,” I told him, my tone unequivocal.

“Of course. Nico De Lucci, right?”

For fuck’s sake.

The detective introduced himself, then he glanced at Ivy. “Boyfriend?”

“No. What does that have to do with it?” Ivy asked.

“Let’s not mince words here. This could be a mob-related retaliation.”

The detective didn’t know how accurate he was and still totally wrong.

“I told you they wanted the money in the safe,” Ivy said, and I almost looked at her in surprise at how convincing she sounded.

“And you thought fighting them off is better than handing the money over?”

“They pissed me off.”

Despite myself, my mouth twitched with the beginnings of a grin. Ivy had done nothing but amaze me. I couldn’t believe how I had misjudged her. “Did you catch any of them?”

“Your bodyguard killed the one in the loading area.”

“I’m sure it was self-defense.”

“Yup. They shot him first,” Ivy told me.

“She really needs to go to the hospital,” the EMT broke in. I shot him a grateful look. The detective was every inch a dog with a bone and he was already showing that he was biased against organized crime families. That or he was on the Rossis’ payroll. It reminded me not to discuss anything here with people milling around.

“We’d like to see any video surveillance—”

“Detective—” I cut in. “Not now.”

“You heard him,” Ivy said.

“I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend,” the detective sneered. I was this close to smashing his face on the counter.

“He’s not. But he’s in charge of my security…so.”

I tried to hide the amusement on my face but failed. “Come on, Princess Ass-Kicker. Let’s get you looked at.”

“Again with the nicknames,” she mumbled, but she didn’t look too annoyed.

Progress.

The rest of the evening was a blur, but all about Ivy. I didn’t get a chance to be alone with her because Sera arrived in my parents’ Escalade with Bianca and Xander. After the race across Manhattan, I was content to be relegated to driver. And while they all fussed over Ivy, I processed my damning reaction to the situation.

Would I have felt this way over anyone else in a similar situation? I could barely contain my panic. When Sera was abducted, I was the calm one while Matteo behaved worse than I did. This time, our situations were reversed.

At least Sera was with Ivy while she was being examined by the ER doc. No matter how much I wanted to be with her, there would be too many questions I didn’t have the answers to.

Meanwhile, my mind was also on Trevor, who was in surgery.

Our family and associates crowded the waiting room. Bianca was sitting with Xander, while Matteo and I waited in one corner. A few of the De Lucci soldiers and Arrows arrived to maintain security around the perimeter.

Dom walked in through the sliding doors, spotted us, and gestured for Matteo and me to head outside. We followed him behind a huge concrete column in an isolated part of the hospital.

“Find out anything?” I asked.

“According to my sources inside the NYPD, the attackers entered through the loading dock. They subdued the building operator in charge of deliveries and shot Trevor. That’s how they gained access to Ivy’s loft using his keycard. The man Trevor overpowered and killed at the loading dock was identified as a member of the Harlem gang.”

“Rossis are involved, then,” Matteo said.

The Harlem gang were well-known associates of the Rossis. Harlem was also The Turk’s territory, specifically the area around his nightclub. Sandro’s nickname came from the fact that he was half Italian and half Turk. Sandro could never become a made man and his family treated him like shit until he proved his skill in murder-for-hire. And they gave him the nickname The Turk.

When you want the job done right, you called The Turk. As far as everyone knew, Sandro didn’t do hits anymore. He kept to his little kingdom in Harlem.

And we made sure Bianca stayed away from him.

“Sandro involved?” Matteo asked.

I stiffened, but didn’t react.

Dom gave me a grim look. “The job wouldn’t be that sloppy. Out of respect for our family, I don’t think Sandro would have acted against us. It’s no secret Ivy and Sera are tight. Let’s not forget he saved Sera.

“And I hate to break it to you,” Dom continued. “As kick-ass as Ivy appears to be, Sandro would have known how to subdue her. His expertise in hand-to-hand is as legendary as his skill behind a sniper scope.”

Sandro wasn’t a Goodfellas-type hitman for the mob. He was a grade-A assassin like Jason Bourne.

“If these were the Rossis, no way did they do it without Joe’s knowledge,” I said. “Are you going to do something about this, Dom?

“We haven’t declared Ivy as a friend of the family yet. They were within their rights to claim protection money for the Brooklyn workroom. That’s their territory. I can declare this after the fact, but we need a stronger reason.”

“What if I claim Ivy as mine?”

Both of them froze and their gazes turned scrutinizing. Matteo spoke first. “Are we doing the fake-dating thing again or has it gone beyond that?”

I didn’t respond.

“Think carefully, cuz. I don’t have to remind you of what happened when your brother here”—Dom thumbed a finger at Matteo—“thought it was a good idea.”

“It has moved past fake anything,” I said. “That’s all you need to know.” I hated being backed into a corner. I needed all the rush from earlier to calm down so I could look at things objectively.

“Understood. But we have Daniel to consider,” Matteo said. “As it stands now, he might take the next flight back.”

Shit, I forgot about Ivy’s brother. “Has anyone informed him?”

“Ivy told Sera she doesn’t want her brother to know.”

“Is that an option? He’s already pissed at you.”

Matteo rolled his eyes. “He’s past that.”

“He’s never stayed away this long.”

“According to Ivy, their uncle is playing hardball with the board and Daniel is trying to prevent a takeover.”

“I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“It’s not, but it will be if Daniel gets distracted, and that’s what Ivy is trying to avoid. We need to keep this on the down-low.”

“The news will be all over the tabloids. NYPD was involved and we’re sure they couldn’t control who has access to the media. Someone they know is going to see it and tell Daniel.”

“Yes, but we don’t want Daniel acting on impulse,” Matteo said. “Ivy wants to be the one to call him, assure him she’s fine, and she has sufficient security around her.”

Bianca rushed out of the emergency room, looked right, then left, and saw us. “Ivy’s out.”

We made our way back into the ER, and even if I prepared myself for the bruising on her face, I couldn’t tamp down the killing rage that consumed me with the reality.

Gauze covered her forehead and the area that swelled around her eyes had fused to the one bulging on her cheek. When she saw me, she tried to smile, but ended up wincing.

“You look ready to murder someone,” she croaked.

With a gentleness I was far from feeling, I traced the discoloration on her cheek with the back of my fingers. “I could. Just point me in the direction of the worthless piece of shit who did this to you.”

My thoughts drifted back to Joe Lollipop. Dom kept distracting me from calling out that fucker, and it was pissing me off. Joe had to have known something like this was going down. If not, then he shouldn’t be acting boss.

“Can Ivy and Xander stay with us?” Sera asked Matteo.

“Xander and I will figure something out,” Ivy protested. “You are newlyweds. We’ll just hire more security. I already got Trevor hurt—”

“It’s not your fault,” I cut in.

Matteo glanced at me briefly before telling her, “I would love to, except Nico might have a problem with that arrangement.”

Ivy’s head tilted as if she wasn’t understanding, and then her attention snapped to mine. “What does he mean?”

A man in navy blue scrubs walked out of the emergency room and said, “Trevor Hayes.”