Shelter (18+)

Chapter|Twelve

The monitors go off in the silent room, Beep Beep Beep Beep.

The Italian Don was finally awake. He scanned the empty hospital room, very confused as to why he was even there. There were multiple wires connected to his body and he pulled them off immediately. Moranzano swiftly got up out of bed and marched towards the white door. There were three men guarding his door with guns.

"What the fuck happened?" He thought to himself as he signaled to them.

"Boss you're awake finally!" One spoke to him.

"How long was I out for? And give me a fucking gun!" He barked orders.

"It's good to have you back... you've been out for a couple of months well."

Maranzano wanted to inquire about his daughter but he didn't want the organization to know his secret life. He just prayed that she was alright. He vaguely remembered the blast that shot through this house.

"Where is my sister?"

"She isn't conscious sir." One of them responded.

"Do we have any idea who was responsible for the attack?"

"We have some leads but we wanted your approval before we acted On them." Another person replied.

"Alright then, get me my fucking suit, and let's go home." He shouted.

...

Back in Russia, Naomi had woken up to an empty bed. Damon and his crew had headed out early to infiltrate the US base and she didn't hear him leave. She was a bit sad that she did not see him off and hoped he would be back home soon. 

She rolled over to his side of the bed and cuddled further into his sent. Naomi's mind began drifting off. She thought about her strong liking for a Russian boss. Just months before she was locked in a bedroom, now she was free and living with the 'enemy' that she believed also cared for her as well.

She hoped to find some way to contact her father. She didn't quite understand why he did what he did but she hoped for at least a legislative explanation. She needed to speak to him soon.

She rolled out of bed and padded her way to the bathroom. There On the vanity, she sound a note propped up with perfect handwriting;

"I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding— certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever."

― Jane Austen,

It was one of her favorite quotes from her favorite author. She was reading pride and prejudice to him in bed the other night and he remembered.

The littlest thing mattered to Naomi and it had her floating On cloud nine all day long. Maybe it was a sign from Damon about how he really felt. He wasn't great with words but she could read his heart. Naomi was determined to speak about their relationship when he returned, hopefully in one piece.

Damon had hired a private driver and bodyguard for her and she decided today was the day to use them.

He wanted her to be "safe at all times," but she simply felt like he just wanted to know what she was doing at all times. Nevertheless, she used this space to her advantage and headed to the museum and to a secret garden in the countryside.