Chapter Eight | Hostile Intentions

Derek had known James for most part of his time in college but one side of the young detective he'd never witnessed was his ubiquitous violence. Which he'd unknowingly triggered once he divulged all the information he'd acquired on Emilia.

He fought the urge to cower away from the unsightly scene that was displayed before him: Dead bodies lying motionless on the ground and bloodstains splattered on the walls of the quaint bar where a unit of a mafia syndicate resided.

James wiped his bloodstained knuckles with a napkin as he observed the scene as well, a look of satisfaction on his face as he did so. He'd been able to use these poor suckers to relieve his pent-up stress.

He walked over to a bewildered Derek, stepping over the discarded bodies in his path as he stuffed the soiled napkin in his pocket. "What?" he questioned, turning back to the scene before them.

"I hope you don't feel bad for these fuckers" James chided, an unrecognizable composure he donned, causing Derek to worry even more, "They're killers, rapists, traffickers, drug dealing scum and more despicable things we couldn't even begin to fathom. Somehow, we did them a favor by taking them out so nicely"

"Are you even listening to yourself? This is manslaughter, dude. They didn't even have time to defend themselves. They didn't pose a threat to anyone at the moment. You could be dismissed from the force if the inspector found-"

"He won't" James deadpanned, glaring at his colleague as he gauged his deteriorating demeanor, "Or would he?"

Derek found himself shaking his head vigorously. In all his time in the force, he'd never felt the fear of a man's resonating anger as he slaughtered his enemies. James hadn't given the men who'd been conversing and drinking themselves to stupor, a moment to react to his assault as he'd taken them out with nothing but his fists and an unregistered set of grenades.

"Well then, let's find more hideouts to smoke out" James walked past him, patting him on the shoulder as he headed out of the building towards his car.

"James, this isn't right. Let's strategize first and run it through with the inspector" Derek suggested as he got into the passenger's seat, staring at the shadow of the man he'd been talking to hours before.

"How are we sure the inspector's not on their payroll? All the leads he's given us or we've run by him have been null or ended up in an ambush" James retorts as they drive out of the neighborhood and unto the streets. "I'm not taking any more chances. If you want out, then I'll drop you off at home"

"I'm in but we have to do this subtly, that right there" Derek points back, "can not happen again. That was vicious, even for you"

"I can't make any promises" James mutters as he stares ahead on the road, his mind racing with questions as well as an unfathomable anger he can't quite subside. "These bastards have taken enough from me, I plan to take everything from them, even at the cost of my life"

Derek peers over at his friend, "Aren't you interested in finding Amelia?" he watched as James cringes, his grip tightening around the steering wheel.

"I am" he finally says after a long pause, "I don't know if she was a spy for them, I really want to believe she wasn't. That she loved me and wanted to let go of her past for a possible future with me and our unborn child, but I can't let my feelings get in the way of my mission. If she's really one of them-"

"What'll you do?" Derek fears the answer as the question is left in the air for a while as James contemplates on what he'd do if he found out she was a genuine mafioso.

"I'd give her a quick death" James says, his voice strained as he imagines the prospect of taking the life of someone he loved, "then I'd give her a proper burial, in respect for our unborn child. I'd name it after her false name, because that's who I fell for. Not this Emilia person"

Derek only nodded, he couldn't find words to say to his friend to console him or support him so he let the silence that lingered afterwards to soothe his troubled heart instead.

Leonelli buttoned his shirt quickly, throwing on his jacket back on as Gianna did the same. Their trysts were getting more frequent the more they ran into each other, which he detested as well as enjoyed momentarily.

Gianna Gianpiero—who still sported his last name shamelessly—had once been his queen, ruling his empire along with him. She'd been the first one to capture his heart when he was just a son of an Italian don, with no title or certainty that he'd be taking over the Gianpiero dynasty.

Once he'd been chosen to take over, she was already beside him; submissive to his authority and loyal to him alone. A match made in heaven was what they'd been called. Their wedding thrown in style, a lavish display of their newly acquired wealth and influence as they invited only the most important personalities to celebrate their love.

That's until the incident occurred.

Leonelli couldn't fathom how he'd grown from being helplessly in love with her to wanting to rip her to shreds in one fell swoop. She'd been the catalyst for the day He'd marked as his worst, a day he'd sworn to fully avenge at the cost of anything. Even an unborn child with no knowledge of the predicaments.

"This needs to stop" he muttered, "it was fun at first, reliving the glory days and all but its over, Gia. The divorce can never be revoked"

"Gia" she muses, nipping at her bottom lip as she struggled to quell her unshed tears, "You know Leon, I wonder if all that happened was worth the cost of our marriage" she ran a hand over her disheveled hair, "How many times do I have to apologize before you forgive me?"

"Until I don't feel the urge to put you six feet under" he retorts, "then maybe I'll truly forgive you"

"Well, you didn't feel the urge when you were 'teaching' me some manners" she jokes, flipping her hair back as she stares back at the man who'd once loved her, "We could've fixed us if you wanted to, you know that"

"I never want to, ever" he deadpans, "we, are a thing of the past. As it should be" he fixes his cufflinks as he avoids her wounded glare.

He couldn't help the words that came out of his mouth whenever they crossed paths. He was torn between resisting the urge to make her pay for the past and the urge to run into her arms once again, forgiving her for her sins. But the only thing that kept him from exacting vengeance on her was his love for her.

It was best that they stayed civil for the time being. It seemed more doable than attempting to fix their hopeless marriage.

"Do you fancy this new girl?" Gianna questions, "you wouldn't have brought her to your home if you didn't. I just want to know"

"You have no business knowing who I fancy, I'm sure you know my reasons for withholding such information" he runs a hand over his suit's lapels, "I have plans for her, that's all that needs to be known for now"

Gianna wasn't convinced but she decided to withhold any curious questions back, lest he suspects her for prying into his business. She was already treading on a thin line with him. She'd have to find out for herself.

"Also, stop coming to my home unannounced or at all. Unless I call for you, which is unlikely" he proceeds to leave the room, ignoring her sullen demeanor as he moves to leave.

"Understo-" Gianna is cut off by a heart wrenching scream that's resonating in the hallway as Leonelli opens the door to the room.

He moves quickly as he recognizes the possible source, rushing to the open room where Rocco and the gynecologist are hunched over a writhing Emilia whose hands are clasped over her tummy.

"What the hell happened?" Leonelli questions, reaching for her as her scream intensifies, blood now dribbling from her nostrils and mouth.

"She was fine just a moment ago while I observed her. Everything was okay until she moved to sit and collapsed" the gynecologist replies, evidently afraid as he considers his fate in a case where something was to happen to the young woman.

"Call Daciano, now" Rocco orders all the men stationed in the room, all rushing to retrieve the family doctor, a more trusted medical practitioner.

"Can you stop the blood?" Leonelli questioned the gynecologist, "the baby could be put at risk"

"Baby?" Gianna questions, stood at the doorway as she watches the scene unfold before her. "What baby?"

"Rocco, escort Gianna out, now" he orders, taking Emilia in his arms as he hoists her up from the floor. "Meet me at the ward when you're done. You," he refers to the fidgeting gynecologist, "follow me"