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Carmella

“Sasha.” I took long strides closer, doing my best to ignore the dozen or more soldiers standing in the corridor. Their pressed suits and white shirts weren’t fooling anyone.

I could tell by the faces of the doctors and nurses they were well aware the men would shoot to kill.

And they had every right to be afraid.

“Carmella.” Sasha was understandably shaken, her face tearstained.

She said something to the girl I knew had become her assistant over the years, one of her many jobs keeping up with the Sasha’s frequent public outings. I’d often found it close to hysterical that various women’s clubs wanted the wife of a known and admitted mobster to speak at their illustrious luncheons and charity events.

Things in the world of crime syndicates were much different than I remembered or in the stories I’d read. I’d also needed to weed through the press taking up residence outside the hospital in hopes of obtaining a story that would put their careers on the map.

With half the fifth floor blocked off, only accessible by passing through the scrutiny of two of my father’s most trusted men, the entire situation left a bad taste in my mouth.

But I couldn’t avoid the fact my father had been shot.

“I’m so glad you’re here. Your father has been asking for you.” Sasha gripped my hand, squeezing as she peered at me.

I’d gotten word of my father’s shooting less than two hours before, barely able to make arrangements for Zoe to pick up Gabriel after preschool. I’d been told nothing on the phone call except I needed to make my way to the hospital.

In a hurry.

“What’s his condition?” I pressed.

“Two shots to his upper torso. The doctors don’t think they are life threatening, but one nicked his lung.”

That was serious, no matter if anyone had dared admit that to the woman. I glanced down the hall, noticing Drago was alone in guarding my father’s room. “What the fuck happened?”

Sasha seemed leery to tell me anything, her face turning ashen. “He and Don Santorelli were attacked outside a restaurant in Connecticut.”

“What the hell were the two of them doing in another state?” My thoughts drifted briefly to Amber’s birthday party. My gut had nagged me for hours that something was brewing between them. Whatever it was had nearly taken my father’s life.

“You know your father. He didn’t tell me anything and he’s tight-lipped right now. I just…” She let out a heavy sob, her shoulders sagging.

“Have Amber and Michael been told?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. They both had exams today. Several of your father’s men are waiting for them at the high school. They’re being protected.”

“Who the fuck did this? Santorelli’s men?”

“I just don’t know.”

I squeezed her hand again. “Why don’t you get some coffee? I’ll look in on Daddy. Okay? You need to take care of you.”

“I’ll try. Again, I’m so glad you’re here. Your father does really love you. I hope you know that.”

There was something almost off about her admittance. I’d always known my father loved me, although at times he had a strange way of showing his love.

I glanced at the lineup of soldiers before making my way down the corridor.

Every single man straightened up as I passed, as if I was going to do an inspection. They’d never acted that way around me before. To them, I was merely the daughter of their leader, someone who didn’t rate but so much importance. Their expressions of respect sent a chill through me.

Did they know something I didn’t know?

Drago jerked his head up, his features softening to some degree when he realized who was standing in front of him.

“What happened, Drago?” I asked, trying to be as comforting as possible. I didn’t like the man in the least and he didn’t like me.