Crowned In Blood

Chapter 21

21

Catalina

W e rushed Marco to his hospital, where they had his blood work and entire medical history on file.

The staff here was ready for him, so when they got the call from Marco’s men, they took him back immediately.

I watched as the love of my life, the man who brought sunshine and color into my world, who matched me in every way and was the only sanctuary I’d ever known, was brought back into surgery on a stretcher.

I was numb. Empty.

I hadn’t cried, had barely spoken to anyone besides giving simple instructions. All of my energy was with him.

Even if we were rooms, worlds, dimensions apart as the doctors fought to keep him with us, he had my everything. And every piece of me was begging for this all to be a dream—some sort of horrible nightmare where when I awoke, I’d roll over into his arms and find him safe and sound.

One of his men led me to a chair, and I followed without complaint.

I sat down and waited. A flurry of bodies passed me to and fro, but I saw none of them, couldn’t remember a single one of their faces. Not until a single pair of white shoes filled my vision.

The man was dressed in scrubs, with a sad look on his face.

“Ms. Salazar? Can you hear me? Are you all right?”

Had he been calling for me?

It was like a light switch turned on and I finally recognized the man. It was Marco's surgeon.

“Marco? How is Marco?”

The surgeon took a deep breath.

“We had to do intensive surgery.”

My world crumbled.

“The bullet didn’t pierce his heart, but it collapsed one of his lungs and caused several other injuries. The surgery itself was a success, but…”

“But what?” I bit out.

“We’ve had to place Marco in a medically induced coma to give his body time to heal. We’ve done all we can on our side, but it’s up to him now to pull through.”

I wanted to yell, scream, throw something at him, or kill him.

He hadn’t done enough. If he had, Marco would be here. He'd be the one standing in front of me, with his beautiful, radiant smile, and calling me his queen.

“Ms. Salazar…” The surgeon paused, his eyes becoming hard, his jaw firm. “No, Catalina. Without Marco, many of us wouldn’t be here today. I know how much he means to you and how much you mean to him. I promise you we will do everything in our power to take care of him.” Then he took a deep breath. “They say coma patients can hear their surroundings. Tell him to fight for us, to come back to us, to you, and he will.”

Tears nearly fell from my eyes when I saw Marco.

His skin was ashen and pale, its normal golden hue somehow dull and muted against the bright white sheets. He had tubes sticking out of his arms. And while he was breathing, he was so unbelievably still, as if he were half dead.

No!

I went to him, sat on the edge of his bed, carefully picked up his hand and held it in my own. His arm trembled, and for a moment I thought he’d come back to me, but it wasn’t him shaking, it was me .

I steeled my nerves.

“Marco,” I whispered, squeezing his hand, stroking his cheek. “You promised me. Don’t you remember? Just a few short hours ago, I told you if you died, I’d go to hell and bring you back. So, you can’t. Okay? You can’t leave me.”

My voice wavered, but I forced myself to push on. “There are so many things I have yet to experience in this world, and I want to experience them with you. I want to spend every day, every night, for the rest of time with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to learn about life with you." I nuzzled his hand. "So please, please, I’m begging you, I’ll get down on my hands and knees if you need me to, but please, don’t give up. I need you, Marco. I can’t survive without you.”

I kissed each of his knuckles and held his hand to my cheek as a single tear slid down my face.

“Ma’am?”

I wiped it away and looked up, finally recognizing the man who had stuck beside me while Marco was in surgery. It was Carlos, someone Marco told me he trusted.

“Your men are here to see you, as are several of the capos of the Torrino Famiglia. Would you like to meet with them?”

I looked at Marco once more, traced his cheek with my fingertips, then smoothed his hair back from his head. I took in each cord and tube, tucked the blanket around him, then hardened my heart.

Felipe did this to him. I didn’t know how, but he was the only one who had a reason to kill Marco. And now, I would destroy him.

I leaned into my fury and rage, let it simmer under my skin and fuel my strength, then I turned to Carlos. “Let them in.”

The capos of our families filled the hospital room, each strapped with a mixture of weapons while they waited for news from the shooting.

I straightened my back, and when I spoke, my voice was hard, commanding. “Marco is recovering right now, and when he opens his eyes again, I want to make sure he knows we got the bastards that did this.”

Some men grunted in agreement.

My eyes touched each of Marco’s capos. “I know I’m not Marco, and that I have no reason to ask this of you, but help me get revenge for him, for daring to touch a single hair on his head.”

Carlos stepped forward, drawing my gaze. “Ma’am, Marco has instructed us that should anything happen to him, we are to follow your every command. You are our boss, our Do?a. Whatever you need us to do, we will.”

I fought through the emotion welling up inside me. Marco had given me control of his familia? Had he suspected what was going to happen?

“When did he make that change?”

“He asked us to watch and assist you if needed before he went to Italy. He changed the hierarchy the day he returned.”

How could he … why did he? I didn’t even know who he was when he left for Italy, and yet he’d left his entire familia in my hands? How could he be so foolish?

Then I stilled.

Hadn’t he told me all along? That he’d give me anything, give up anything if it meant having me?

Marco had stalked me, long before we’d ever met at my birthday party. And he always called me his queen. He wasn't being irresponsible. He simply believed in me that much. He’d always believed in me.

My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes, but I clenched them hard. No. I can’t. If I start crying now, I won’t stop. I’m barely holding it together, but I have to until he’s back to me.

I squeezed Marco’s hand, cleared my throat, and surveyed Marco’s—no, our men.

Not a shred of doubt clouded their faces. They were almost militant in their stance. It was a direct reflection of their respect for Marco, and whatever he had done had ensured they would never question me.

Their loyalty and confidence in me was almost overwhelming, but instead of fighting against it, I accepted it.

“We move on as planned. Stake out Felipe’s mansion and give me a final head count on how many guards he has.”

Our men nodded.

“Have Felipe’s men arrived at his warehouses?”

“Yes,” Joseph said.

When I spoke again, my voice was low, cold, full of fury. “When you're torturing them for information, make it hurt. I want them to writhe in pain, beg for death. Cut out their eyes, pull off their fingernails. Break them in every way possible. They went after Marco, and they are going to pay the price for their actions.”

I squeezed Marco’s hand again. “And when you’re done, I will join you at Felipe’s mansion. But do not touch him—Felipe Alvarez is mine.”