Chapter 4 - A Weakness With Brown Eyes
Matteo Bellini studied the photograph at breakfast.
Victor Russo stood in the background.
Chloe Bennett was walking from the private hallway carrying folded linens.
That alone meant little.
Then came the second photograph.
Victor watching her.
Matteo smiled.
Powerful men rarely destroyed themselves over enemies.
They destroyed themselves over the people they could not afford to lose.
“Find out everything,” Matteo ordered.
His lieutenant nodded.
“About Russo?”
“No.”
Matteo tapped Chloe’s face.
“About her.”
Across town, Chloe had no idea she had become interesting to dangerous people.
She was busy arguing with Tommy.
“You missed dialysis?”
“Once.”
“Once is too much.”
Tommy sat on their apartment couch beneath a faded Bulls blanket.
“It was snowing.”
“The clinic transportation picks you up.”
“The driver canceled.”
“You call me.”
“You were working.”
“I don’t care.”
“You always care when the paycheck arrives.”
Chloe stopped.
Tommy immediately regretted it.
“Chlo—”
“No. You’re right.”
She sat beside him.
The apartment was small.
Clean.
Everything they owned fit into four rooms and one closet.
Tommy looked at her.
“You look different.”
“That’s vague.”
“You smile more.”
Chloe got up.
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I have laundry.”
“Is it a guy?”
She nearly dropped the basket.
Tommy grinned.
“Oh my God.”
“There is no guy.”
“There’s absolutely a guy.”
“Eat something.”
“Who is he?”
“Nobody.”
“Rich?”
Chloe froze.
Tommy pointed.
“That means rich.”
“You should consider law school.”
“Old?”
“No!”
The answer came too fast.
Tommy’s grin grew.
Chloe threw a towel at his head.
Her phone rang.
She expected Mrs. Gable.
Instead, Victor’s name appeared.
She had never saved it.
Apparently, he had added himself to her contacts when arranging Tommy’s prescription.
That was such a Victor thing to do that Chloe almost smiled.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“I know that.”
“Then why did you ask?”
Silence.
“Are you always this irritating outside my house?”
“Yes.”
Tommy mouthed, Is that him?
Chloe turned away.
Victor said, “Your brother missed dialysis yesterday.”
Her smile vanished.
“How do you know?”
“The clinic called my benefits office regarding transportation.”
“You’re checking his medical appointments?”
“No.”
“Victor.”
“I’m not.”
She believed him.
Mostly.
“He’s okay.”
“Is he?”
Chloe looked at Tommy.
Too pale.
Too thin.
Tired even while pretending not to be.
“He says yes.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Her irritation weakened.
“Why are you calling?”
“I’m sending a car tomorrow.”
“For work?”
“For Tommy.”
“No.”
“There’s freezing rain predicted.”
“No.”
“The clinic transportation already failed.”
“I said no.”
Victor exhaled.
“Why do you make everything difficult?”
“Because you solve everything before asking whether people want it solved.”
“That sounds inefficient.”
“It’s called consent.”
Another silence.
Victor was actually listening.
“Fine,” he said. “Would you like a car to take your brother to dialysis tomorrow?”
Chloe looked at Tommy.
He was pretending not to listen.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“And thank you.”
Victor disconnected.
Tommy stared.
“That sounded like a guy.”
“He’s my boss.”
“That sounded worse.”
Chloe groaned.
The next morning, a black SUV arrived.
Not a limousine.
Not a convoy.
Just one vehicle with a driver named Anthony who greeted Tommy like any other teenager.
Victor had learned.
That unsettled Chloe more than if he had simply ignored her objections.
At the clinic, Tommy was halfway through treatment when his blood pressure dropped.
The nurse called Chloe.
She was polishing glass in Victor’s study when her phone rang.
By the time she heard the words emergency department, Chloe’s hands were shaking.
Victor entered.
“What happened?”
“Tommy.”
That was enough.
Victor took her coat from the hook.
“Come.”
“I can drive.”
“You can barely hold your phone.”
Fifteen minutes later, they reached the hospital.
Chloe ran.
Victor followed.
People recognized him.
Security officers straightened.
A man in the lobby quickly looked away.
Chloe noticed none of it.
She found Tommy behind a curtain with oxygen beneath his nose.
He looked tiny.
“Hey,” he whispered.
Chloe grabbed his hand.
“You promised you were fine.”
“Technically, I was fine when I promised.”
She cried then.
Quietly.
Victor stopped outside the curtain.
He could face blood.
Gunshots.
Funerals.
But watching Chloe bend over her brother nearly broke something he had spent years hardening.
A nephrologist arrived.
Tommy needed additional testing.
His kidney function had declined.
They needed to begin transplant evaluation more aggressively.
Chloe’s face drained.
“What does that cost?”
The doctor hesitated.
Victor stepped forward.
“Do what he needs.”
Chloe turned sharply.
“Victor.”
“He needs treatment.”
“We discussed this.”
“This isn’t a prescription.”
“Exactly.”
Victor looked at the doctor.
“Excuse us.”
The doctor escaped.
Chloe dragged Victor into the hallway.
“You cannot walk into my brother’s hospital room and buy everything.”
“I’m not buying everything.”
“You just told a specialist to do whatever he needs.”
“Yes.”
“How much do you think transplant evaluations cost?”
“I don’t care.”
“I do!”
People looked over.
Chloe lowered her voice.
“You make money meaningless because you have too much of it.”
Victor’s eyes hardened.
“And you make suffering noble because you’re accustomed to it.”
The words hit hard.
Chloe stared.
Victor immediately knew he had gone too far.
Her face closed.
“I’m going back to my brother.”
“Chloe.”
“No.”
She turned.
Victor caught her wrist lightly.
She looked down.
He released her.
“I’m sorry.”
She froze.
Victor Russo did not apologize often.
Perhaps not at all.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
Chloe’s anger remained.
But something softened around it.
“I know you’re trying to help.”
“I’m bad at it.”
“You’re terrible.”
Victor almost smiled.
“How do I do this correctly?”
The question stunned her.
He meant it.
Chloe looked through the glass toward Tommy.
“Ask.”
Victor nodded.
“May I pay for the transplant evaluation?”
She laughed once through tears.
“You sound like you’re negotiating a land purchase.”
“I’m uncomfortable.”
“I noticed.”
He waited.
Chloe looked at her brother.
Then at a man who could spend the amount without noticing.
Pride battled fear.
Fear won.
“Yes.”
Victor nodded.
“Thank you.”
She frowned.
“Why are you thanking me?”
“For saying yes.”
That afternoon, Victor sat beside Tommy while Chloe spoke with financial services.
Tommy studied him.
“You’re the guy.”
Victor looked up from his phone.
“What guy?”
“The guy making my sister smile.”
Victor became perfectly still.
Tommy grinned weakly.
“She says there’s no guy.”
“Your sister is correct.”
“She also says she isn’t tired.”
Victor considered that.
“She lies frequently.”
“Exactly.”
Tommy leaned back.
“You like her?”
Victor had intimidated politicians.
Threatened killers.
Negotiated deals worth hundreds of millions.
A fifteen-year-old boy made him uncomfortable.
“That’s a personal question.”
Tommy nodded.
“You do.”
Victor looked toward the doorway.
Chloe was returning.
“Your sister would murder you if she heard this.”
“She can’t. She needs me for tax deductions.”
Victor laughed.
It happened before he could stop himself.
Chloe froze at the doorway.
Victor froze too.
Tommy looked delighted.
Chloe had never heard Victor laugh.
The sound transformed him.
For one second, he looked like the man in the old photograph.
Then Chloe noticed someone farther down the hospital corridor.
A stranger.
Dark coat.
Watching them.
The moment Chloe met his eyes, he turned away.
“Victor.”
Something in her voice changed him instantly.
“What?”
“That man.”
Victor looked.
The stranger disappeared around the corner.
Victor stood.
His entire body became still.
Dangerous.
“Stay with Tommy.”
“Who was he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Victor.”
He called Anthony.
“Lock down the floor.”
Chloe stared.
“What is happening?”
Victor looked toward the corridor where the stranger had vanished.
He wanted to lie.
He wanted to tell her it was nothing.
But for the first time, Victor understood the cost of what had begun between them.
May you like
Someone else had noticed Chloe.
And Victor Russo knew exactly what men like Matteo Bellini did with weaknesses.
