Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

NICO

W aiting to hear an update on Enzo’s condition in this characterless room, painted in overly cheerful colours that assault my corneas, is a torment more unsettling than any theatrics I’ve ever used on someone I’m interrogating. If hell exists, this is mine. Made worse by having to witness the pain in the eyes of the people I love.

I thought I knew fear—that I understood it. I’ve inflicted enough pain on others to appreciate the emotion intimately, but when we thought Enzo was dead, it was the first time I’d been confronted with true, heartbreaking loss. It took me by surprise. Made me recognise how fragile everything is and how terrifying the thought of losing any one of them is.

I’d always assumed that I would fall apart if anything ever happened to Benedict, but I wasn’t prepared for how I felt when I woke in the med-room alone after the assault on Salvatore’ s compound, praying for everyone to make it home safely. A part of me died when they returned without Enzo.

We couldn’t save him then. What if we can’t save him now? The fear sits heavy in my chest, suffocating my soul.

Glancing at my watch, I note it’s only been three minutes since I last checked the time, but a lot can happen in three minutes. One hundred and eighty seconds can change everything. My heartbeat is steady, striking in my chest like a metronome. Not reflecting the pace of the thoughts rampaging through my mind, ones that feed my anxiety and dread.

The door clatters open with a loud bang, making us all jump and triggering every one of us—even Stefano—to stand and circle Aurora, hands hovering above concealed weapons, protecting her from any threat.

“For fuck’s sake, Katerina. You, of all people, know better than to barge into a room full of armed men like that,” Stefano chastises. Doc Em ignores not only his familiarity, but him entirely, crossing straight to Aurora and waving us out of the way.

“I’m not going to insult your intelligence by sugar-coating it, Aurora. It’s bad. He’s as stable as we can get him and we’re going to take him up to surgery now. He has extensive trauma to his abdomen. The lacerations to his spleen and liver are our primary concern, so we’re performing an exploratory laparotomy to get that under control. He has multiple broken bones that we’ll deal with later, but we need to stabilise the breaks to his arm and shoulder surgically. If he survives this surgery, it’ll be the first of many.”

Doc Em’s direct manner is exactly what we all need right now. There’s no need to question her on the details. She’ll do whatever it takes to save him. There’s a steady wave of heads nodding, a collective bestowing of consent. She turns and leaves and Stefano slips out after her .

I rub my hands down my face, groaning at how useless I feel. Aurora takes my hand in hers, lays her head against my chest, and hugs me. She reminds me I’m not useless as I return her embrace. I can be strong for her. I need her comfort right now as much as she needs mine, so I cling to her like my own personal security blanket.

All we can do now is wait.

It’s been hours and we’ve had no update.

“What if we were too late? What if he doesn’t make it?” Aurora whispers, her words so quiet it’s as if she’s scared to say them in case they can manifest our worst nightmare into reality.

“There’s no way Enzo would survive this long just to give up on us now,” I reply, kissing her forehead. She bobs her head against my chest, mindlessly agreeing with me when I know from her almost robotic movement she didn’t register what I said. I shift her in my lap and cup her face, forcing her gaze to mine.

“Listen here and listen good. Enzo Moretti is too stubborn to let a cunt like that be his end.”

“You can’t know that, Nico.” Her voice is too small, and it hurts me to hear it.

“No. But I have to believe it if I’m going to survive this, phoenix.”

This time when she nods, I can see the determination in the set of her jaw, as if she’s forcing herself to have hope. She wriggles in my arms before she stands and starts stretching out her limbs. I decide to join her, only realising when I move that my legs feel like dead weights.

I twist my shoulders from side to side, trying to stretch out my spine and ease the knots in my back. It works to an extent but does nothing to soothe the tension bubbling under the surface, my nerves perpetually preparing for either good news or bad. Elation or misery.

Fuck. I hate this.

We’re sleeping in shifts but are restless as fuck. We can only manage to close our eyes for a few minutes at a time. Aurora crosses the room and lifts Sinclair’s head carefully before sitting and laying him back down to sleep cradled in her lap. I pace as she strokes his hair. As the minutes pass, her entire demeanour shifts.

Little by little, her back straightens, her shoulders push back and her chin lifts until the rigid posture reaches her face and her expression hardens. Her eyes darken and each muscle in her jaw twitches before she speaks. “Get Stefano back in here. I may have no control over what happens to Enzo, but I sure as fuck do over Max De Luca. He was a dead man walking before, and now it’s time to plan his execution.”

Every word feels like a promise.

I never stopped to think about how long emergency surgery can take. Why would I? In my line of work, the idea is to end people, not keep them alive. I may take hours to kill them, but at the end of it, there’s no way they’re coming back. On television, patients are wheeled in, there’s a montage and before you know it, they’re updating the family.

We’re eight hours in and we’re still waiting for news. I guess it’s a good thing… they’d have told us already if he hadn’t made it. Wouldn’t they? The longer it takes, the more likely it is that they can save him. I hope.

Stefano has gathered most of the capos in the family room we commandeered and is now hosting the most surreal mafia meeting I’ve ever witnessed. Aurora, Stefano, and Sinclair have been laying out each capo’s responsibilities and targets. Stefano had his men bring us the basics so we can live out of the hospital for the foreseeable future—the most important items being Sin’s tech. Information is power, and our resident super geek is one of our greatest weapons.

He’s been working on identifying areas of weakness in the De Luca organisation since the moment Aurora seized control of her father's assets. Max may have the manpower, but we have the funds, the resources, and the unwavering support of the capos. Max’s army was bought, not built, and it’s his biggest weakness.

Benny’s siblings, Luc and Etta, are hunched over Sin’s laptop with him, while Dominic, Leandro, and Gabriella are listening intently to Stefano.

“You three are vital to our plans from here on out. Gabriella, I need you and your crew to work with Dom and Leandro to gather all the street-level intel on the new De Luca recruits. You need to nominate two people to shadow Leandro’s protection crew and at least eight to rotate through the clubs. Coordinate with Dom, whether that’s by planting some bartenders, entertainers, or guests, I want your team's eyes everywhere. We’ve kept the organisation siloed for too fucking long. We all need to be working together to pool the information.

“Anything you learn that relates to De Luca operations, no matter how small, you will report it to both myself and Sinclair.” Stefano grinds his teeth on the last sentence and clenches his fists. “We are done with redundant layers of secrecy. You are fucking capos. You were chosen to lead your areas because of your skill and your loyalty. Not one of you is any more or any less important when it comes to the survival of the Bianchi organisation.”

Aurora straightens her spine, and while she only stands at five foot five inches tall, her presence dominates the room. “Every one of us has a responsibility to the people who work for us. Without them, we’re nothing. I’m trusting you to work together. I catch a single one of you betraying the trust they or I have put in you, I will gut you with my bare hands. We’ve all seen what happens when a group of power-hungry fossils hoard information for their own gain. It leads to good men being sacrificed in the name of power. Power that was not theirs to take. It’s the organisation’s to give,” she declares.

“Max De Luca is a threat to more than just us now. He’s buying out gangs and trafficking rings at a pace that threatens to alter the economic and political landscape of the city,” Stefano adds. “We need to do more than just eliminate Max. We need to exterminate his organisation.”

“Max De Luca will pay, and it will be my privilege to execute him personally. But not before he watches his legacy crumble. Your primary focus is gathering intel on lynchpin mercenaries. People we can eliminate that would cause a mass exodus of mercs from Max’s army. After that, I need everything you can find on Manny Ferella,” says Aurora.

Sin’s head pops up from behind his screen. “That fucker has gone to ground. He has a new team behind him, but he’s been in hiding ever since the shoot out. He knows the minute he shows his face we’ll retaliate, so it’s time we went to him.”

“That cunt’s days are numbered. Someone knows something about where he is. Gabriella, this is where your team fucking shines. Get us his location,” Aurora says, and then nods, dismissing them. Just before they reach the door, Leandro turns.

“You have our support, Don Bianchi, but more than that, you have our fury. Manny Ferella’s belief in a pure organisation is not ours. Enzo Moretti is the best of us, and this will not stand.” He dips his head in a sign of respect before leaving without ceremony or response. He misses the emotion I see my phoenix force down with an exaggerated swallow.

It’s hard to wrap my head around how much has changed in such a short space of time. But I pray the changes last. Whatever happens, this new era promises more hope than many of us have had in years.

All day the door to the family room has clattered open and shut. A procession of people bringing supplies, or coffee, or food none of us can stomach eating, but not a doctor or a nurse.

Until now.

A nervous-looking man in scrubs edges into the room. Admittedly there are two men standing sentry outside the door who’ve told the police to fuck off at least four times so far today, so we’re not exactly making it a welcoming space. He approaches Aurora, who’s long since given up on trying to sleep and has been pacing for hours.

This person I’ve never met is about to speak and change the course of my life. It’s crazy to think that a person unconnected to us has so much power over us at this moment. The thought is uncomfortable and burrows itself under my skin, making my pulse race and my heart pound.

“Mr Moretti is in recovery,” he says, and I fucking lose it.

All day I’ve kept it together but I can’t anymore and I fall to my knees, head in my hands, unable to stop the emotion I’ve been ignoring overflowing in great heaving sobs. Fingers grip my shoulders. I expect them to belong to Benedict, but it’s Sinclair who’s got me.

“He’s alive,” Aurora whispers on a shaky exhale. She shrinks in on herself and wobbles on her feet. I don’t know whether it’s because she’s overwhelmed with relief or exhaustion or both, but Benedict pulls her back into him, being exactly what she needs.

“Yes. It was an extensive surgery. Dr Mancini will explain it all to you in detail. She’d like to meet you all up on the surgical floor. Mr Moretti is in a private room and the doctor has arranged for you to see him now.”

As we leave the room, for the first time in what feels like days, Aurora signals the guards to follow us with a tip of her head, and after picking up our bags, they fall in behind. We make quite the procession, cutting a path through the floor to the elevators. Everyone steps out of our way, including the four cops congregating around the information desk.

The elevator is crowded with us all hemmed in. But there’s no way one of us is waiting for the next one. The surgical floor looks similar to the emergency room only with oppressively drab décor, muted lighting and a lack of people. We’re ushered towards a set of double doors that require an access card.

“Your security will need to remain here. Doctor Mancini got approval for them to be on this floor, but they can’t go beyond here. This is a secure unit. For want of a better word, this is the VIP wing. Aside from medical staff and approved family members, no one else is allowed access.”

Aurora glances back at our security detail. She looks eager to get to Enzo, but there’s what looks like a shadow of worry clouding her expression. “Ricky, call Stefano and tell him where we are and arrange a rotating shift to cover these doors. Get him to consult with the hospital security on any other points of entry to this ward, and liaise with the administration to address any concerns or financial restitution for the inconvenience.” Her need to protect Enzo obviously outweighs her desire to run to him right now. Ricky nods, taking out his phone, while Benny and I take our bags from his second.

The nurse unlocks the door, saying, “It’s just down here on the right,” waving us in the direction of a dimly lit room.

“Thank you,” I reply.

For the first time, the nurse’s nervous expression vanishes. We must be intimidating as fuck, but at the end of the day, we’re just Enzo’s family, and this stranger is just someone that’s trying to help both him and us survive the day.

“He’s been sedated. The doctor will give you more information soon. You can go in and see him, but please be careful–do not disturb the external fixators the surgeon has fitted to stabilise his arm while he heals.”

We head towards the door. After waiting all day, you would think we’d be running towards him, but my feet feel like they’re made of lead. With every step closer, waves of dread wash over me, making me sick to my stomach. I’m scared of what I’ll find on the other side. Scared that seeing him broken will somehow be worse than him being gone.

Sinclair pushes the door open and my fear is replaced by the overwhelming relief of seeing for myself that he’s alive. I clutch Benny’s hand, trying to ground myself in the moment.

He’s safe.

He’s home

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