Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Just hurry the hell up.” He hung up.
I threw on the closest pair of jeans and a top. I almost forgot my shoes, so I had to double back and pull on a pair of flats before I headed down the stairs and out the front door, my wet hair flying back behind me as I made it to the dirt path.
Leo was in one of the work trucks, and he honked the horn like I wasn’t going fast enough, even though I was already running.
I jumped into the passenger seat, and he immediately flipped the truck around before he drove downhill on the dirt path between the vineyards and the olive trees back to the main road. “What happened?”
“Alfonso was shot. Mattia stabbed.”
“Cristo…”
“A robbery at the docks. They knew our guns were coming in.” He flew down the hill, the truck bouncing along the way.
“Anyone die?”
“Some of our security. Some of them. But the rest got away by boat.”
“Who do you think it was?”
“Not sure right now,” he said. “But you know we’ll figure it out.” He made it to the bottom of the hill and then wrapped around the front of the main house, a three-story villa that my father had as his private residence, but it was always crawling with his men, so it felt more like a headquarters.
Leo hopped out. “The cellar.”
I jumped out of the truck and ran with him into the cellar, the doors below accessible on the outside of the house. It was made of stone, with stairs that led to the expansive underground space beneath the house. On the first level, I found Alfonso lying on a table, already turning a concerning shade of white. My father stood over him, gripping his wound hard to stop the bleeding. Mattia was seated in the chair, the knife sticking out of his side. “Looks like you two had a fun night.” I grabbed the case on the shelf and opened it on a different table, pulling out the suture kits, the gauze, and the alcohol. “Leo, I’m going to need blood for this. Grab it from the refrigerator.”
Leo ran to the other room to retrieve what I asked for.
My father silently stared at me and waited for my orders.
“Cut his shirt off, then keep an eye on Mattia. He’ll be fine as long as we leave that knife in place.”
My father released the pressure then ripped the shirt with his bare hands before he stepped aside. “Can you save him, Frankie?”
“We’ll see.” I moved over to Alfonso and quickly examined the wound, seeing that the bullet was still lodged deep in the flesh, which was surprising, considering how much he’d already bled. I pulled on gloves, grabbed the suture kit, and got to work, stitching him up quickly because I’d done this far more times than I cared to admit.
Leo returned with the bag of blood. “I got it. Now what?”
“Bring the IV pole over here.” I didn’t take my eyes off my work. “He’s lost a lot of blood. I can stop the bleeding, but we’ve got to replace what he’s lost quickly. Otherwise, we’ll be too late. The bullet is still inside, but we’ll have to get that removed another time.”
Leo got the IV pole from one of the closets and brought it close to me.
Alfonso’s eyes started to grow heavy as he slipped away. “Dad, keep him awake.”
My father walked over and slapped him across the face.
“Gently,” I growled. I finished the suture then placed Alfonso’s hand on the table. His veins were thin because he’d lost so much blood and he was dehydrated, but I had enough practice that I was able to get the needle in on the first try. I set up the pole and began the blood transfusion while also giving him fluids and painkillers intravenously. “Keep him awake while I handle Mattia—and don’t slap him.”
I changed my gloves then moved to Mattia. “Leo, get him on the table.”
Leo threw his arm over his shoulder then hoisted him up across the table, Mattia’s leg slipping over the edge and hanging off.
I gave him a shove and got him into the center. I grabbed a new suture kit. “Pull out the knife. Smooth and quick. Don’t stop and go. You understand me?”
“Capisiti.” Leo gripped the knife by the hilt and pulled it out in one smooth motion.
I cut through Mattia’s shirt with the scissors and then applied pressure with the gauze, putting my weight into it. “I need you to help me with the blood while I do the sutures.”
“Alright,” Leo said.
I removed the gauze then started the suture. “Keep pressure on the areas where I’m not working.”
“Capisiti.”
We worked together, sewing the wound shut so Mattia wouldn’t lose a ton of blood like Alfonso.
“Stay awake, Alfonso,” my father said. “My daughter told me not to slap you, but I’ll slap the shit out of you if you try to die on me.”