Elsa
We arrive at the hospital a few minutes later, tires screeching as Mattia turns into the drive. A team of nurses and doctors await, an empty gurney at the ready. Terror claws into my throat. I am not ready to let him go. If these people take him away, I might never see him again.
I swallow hard. Be strong. They will fix him. He will not die. I repeat the words over and over as they take Marcello from the car, put him on the gurney and wheel him inside the building. My feet are rooted to the ground, my eyes focused on the doors, now closed. An arm slides around my shoulders.
“Let’s go inside.” It is Gabrielle.
I fling myself into his arms, wrapping around him. “Tell me it’s going to be okay.”
He hugs me, his heat and strength surrounding me.
Oh, God. I cling to him, more tears leaking from my eyes. I didn’t know that I can cry this much.
“This is my fault,” I sob into his shirt. “He tried to talk me out of it but I wouldn’t listen. I can’t . . .”
I can’t live with myself if something happens to him.
“We were very careful.” Gabrielle squeezes me hard. “This shouldn’t have happened.”
Mattia comes over, his phone pressed to his ear. “Marco’s escaped,” he tells Gabrielle. “His men attacked the estate.”
I gasp as Gabrielle shouts, “Figlio di cane!”
Gabrielle drags a hand down his face, his eyes solemn. “A distraction. Of course.”
I am not sure what that means, but I know it is bad.
Mattia and the other soldiers drive off, and Gabrielle leads me into the hospital. We are waved in, immediately sent to a private waiting room. I thought there would be paperwork to fill out, but no one asks us any questions. I suppose they all know Marcello Viscuso. Presenting an identification card really isn’t necessary.
I sit next to Gabrielle and stare at the blood on my dress. Is this the last part of him I will have? Dried blood on some expensive fabric? I don’t want to wash my hands. I don’t want to change. I need to keep him close, even if it is just his blood.
Zia Elvira soon arrives, looking a decade older than she was this morning, and she asks Gabrielle some questions but I am too out of it to follow. All I can do is clutch the bottle of water in my blood-stained hands and stare at the wall.
What am I going to do if he dies? I will never hear Marcello call me “dolcezza” again. No more naughty games. I will live the rest of my life without his formidable presence, an empty hole no one else can ever fill. I will not be able to survive it.
So much blood. His skin had been so pale.
I start trembling, my teeth chattering. Suddenly, Gabrielle is there, throwing his suit jacket around my shoulders. He kneels in front of me, his hands stroking up and down my arms. “You’re in shock,” he says. “Take a deep breath.”
I shake my head. I can’t. Air won’t help fix him.
“Elsa, breathe, bella. You have to take care of yourself. Think of how Marcello would feel if something happened to you.”
I drag in a deep breath and Gabrielle encourages me. “That’s it. Keep breathing. He’s going to be okay.”
“The last thing I want is you to faint on me. Keep going. In and out. I’ll see if I can find a blanket.”
Then he is gone. I blin back tears and try to focus on my breathing as Zia sits next to me. She doesn’t speak and soon Gabrielle comes back with a hospital blanket, which he wraps around my shoulders.
Zia comes closer and holds my hands in hers before she begins giving me words of assurance and scolds me for showing weakness yet I should be strong for Marcello.
When I realize that she is right, I rub away my tears with the back of my hand and take some courage. Crying won’t solve anything.
***
After six hours, Marcello comes out of surgery in stable but serious condition, and is taken to the ICU. The doctors explains the bullet went in through his back and out his side, and Gabrielle has likely saved Marcello’s life by packing the wound with the sponges in the car. During the operation, they repaired one of Marcello’s kidneys and a torn portion of his small intestines, and removed his gallbladder. They are optimistic about his recovery, but the risk of infection is high.
He hasn’t woken up yet, and they are keeping him on a ventilator for now. But he is alive. Pale, but alive.
We have arranged for a large private room, one with a small bed for me. Guards are posted outside the room and throughout the hospital itself. Anyone coming into Marcello’s room has to wear special identification, including doctors and nurses. Considering Marco has escaped, we aren’t taking any chances.
Zia begins praying over Marcello’s prone form, while Gabrielle and I talk quietly off to the side. “I will have someone bring you clothes,” he says. “Anything else you want from home?”
“I’ll text you a list. Has there been any word from Mattia?”
“Yes. It was a professional. They found his location, up on a rooftop across the street from the hotel. Probably hired by Federico’s men as a diversion from the attack on the Mansion.”
I rub my eyes, trying to take it all in.
“Federico?”
My heart starts racing. Gabrielle nods.
“Federico helped Marco escape. He is probably the one who sent the killer. He is working with Marco.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that the two egomaniacs would want to work together to destroy Marcello. A lot has happened lately, I had almost forgotten Federico’s existence and his threat over my life. Now, he wants to kill Marcello. Infact, he had almost succeeded, but he survived.
“And Marco?”
“We don’t know. I can’t imagine he’ll stay in Sicily. It’s too dangerous and he’s too weak. My guess is he’s being taken back to Naples.” He hugs me. “We have to focus on Marcello right now.”
I sigh.
“I feel as though today has taken several years off my life.” I lean into his solid warmth. “Thank God he let you come with us. I’m so glad you were here.”
“Same, bella. I’ll take Zia home and we’ll return in the morning.” He kisses my cheeks. “Try and get some sleep.”
“I will. You too, Gabrielle. Stay safe. We have a long road ahead of us.”
Nesto pokes his head in, takeout containers in his arms. “Signora, I brought food.”
I let go of Gabrielle and hold out my hands. “Bless you, Nesto. I hope there is pasta in there.” With Marcello now out of surgery, I feel like my stomach could finally handle food.
“Just as you requested. And plenty of tiramisu.” He gives me the containers and kisses my cheeks. “Take care of Don Marcello for us.”
“I will. Grazie, Nesto. Seriously, this is amazing.”
“Prego, signora. We are all thinking of you and praying for the don’s recovery.”
“Please, call me Elsa.”
Gabrielle makes a hissing noise through his teeth, then barks orders at Nesto. When the younger man leaves, Gabrielle frowns. “They must respect you. Do not get close to them. Let them address you properly as the don’s woman.”
“We are not even married,” I shrug.
“It doesn’t matter. I am sure he will marry you as soon as he wakes up. If he still has a brain in his skull,” Gabrielle responds nonchalantly.
I purse my lips and stare silently at him.
Marriage?
I haven’t thought about marriage at all. Would Marcello want to marry me? Would I even manage to be the wife of the most dangerous possessive gangster leader, live my life in immense luxury as well as fear of being hunted by his rivals?
I shake the thoughts off. It’s too soon. Isn’t it? I should focus on Marcello’s health right now. That’s all that matters at this moment.
“You and I must hold everything together until Marcello recovers. No one can suspect we might be weak. This world, it preys on weakness. The other soldiers will help, but we are the most involved and Marcello has the ultimate trust in the two of us, capisce?”
This version of Gabrielle reflects the dark gangster that works with Marcello. He is deadly serious, his shoulders stiff with the weight of all that rests upon them. I give him a grim smile. “I understand. This isn’t going to be easy for you, is it?”
“No, but it is what’s expected.”
“I’ll help you.”
“Good, because those spreadsheets and stock reports are like Japanese to me. I’ve never been good with numbers.”
Math wasn’t my best subject in school, but I wasn’t terrible at it, either. “I think I can handle the legitimate side with your help.” Probably. Am I even allowed to?
“And I’ll handle the other side.”
“I can help with the gangster business, too.”
Gabrielle immediately shakes his head. “Marcello would kill me. You stay clean and out of prison.”
“Come on, Gabrielle. I am a mafia’s daughter. I can handle this stuff.”
“No, Elsa.”
I give him my sweetest smile. “We’ll discuss this later.”
“You’re going to be a pain in my ass, aren’t you?”
I sober, realizing this isn’t the time for teasing. He has enough to worry about that I don’t need to add to it. “No, we’re a team. I only want to help. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Certo,” he says and kisses my cheek.
Then Gabrielle wraps an arm around Zia and pulls her away from Marcello. “Domani, domani,” he keeps telling her. She isn’t happy, but she finally kisses my cheeks and leaves. Then I am alone with my man.
The beeps and whirs echo in the empty room as I go to his side. Only his chest moves as air is forced in and out of his lungs, his face serene. I place a kiss on his forehead, letting my lips linger on his warm skin to reassure myself he is still here. Still alive. I never want to relive a day like today ever again.
“Baby,” I whisper. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
I take a shower, finally changing out of the bloody clothes and into a pair of scrubs they gave me. Then I eat dinner and sit with Marcello some more. I consider the tiny bed awaiting me, but I am wound too tightly. Every time I close my eyes I see Marcello on the ground, bleeding out. Or in the car, his blood seeping all over my hands.
Sleep will not come anytime soon.
I go to the door and find the soldier stationed there. “Stay with him. I’m going down to the cafeteria for coffee.”
“I will get you coffee, signora.”
“No, that’s all right. I need to walk around a bit.”
The soldier motions to the young man stationed at the end of the hall. “He will go with you.”
“I’ll be fine. That’s not necessary.”
“Signora, Gabrielle will gut me like a fish if you go alone.”
I take pity on him. He is just trying to do his job. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
After getting coffee, I call up Rita and end up sobbing on the phone when I tell about all the shit that has been going on since we last talked. She asks if she can come visit me but I tell her it wouldn’t be a good time, but we will arrange a proper time when Marcello wakes up.
A feel a bit better after pouring my heart out to Rita. I am compelled to call up Zio thereafter but he has already been informed about why our meeting was cancelled. He talks about home and how Mamma Rosa is missing me so much yet I don’t answer her calls. That place doesn’t feel like home anymore. Rosa fucked all that up when she he started sleeping with the enemy. I promise Zio that I am fine and that I will meet him myself when Marcello recovers.
After that, I call up mom and have a heartfelt conversation about my life and how much we miss each other. I don’t tell mom about Marcello. I think I will have to visit her and tell her all that in person.
I then head back into the elevator to where my man lies awaiting me. I hope I am able to catch some sleep.