Page 17

Hospitals.

They were nothing more than a reminder of death and destruction. I’d seen far too many people dying in a hospital. It had all but removed my faith in doctors.

I was pacing the floor just outside the ICU, constantly recreating what had occurred only twelve hours before. The ambush had been carefully planned, which meant someone from one family or the other had talked. But to whom?

There had been no signature actions, tattoos, or open threats made by the group of men who’d managed to take both syndicates by surprise.

With Dion without a pulse for four full minutes in the ambulance and now considered critical, Don Santorelli just wheeled back to his room after having his spleen removed, and God knew what else, I was now considered the man in charge.

I’d taken it upon myself to have a different crew head to the streets to track down our informants and any word on the street. Almost no one could keep a secret and one where two ruthless syndicates were almost crippled was big news.

As soon as things were under control, I’d need to spend time talking to the men who’d been told about the meeting location and time to see if we had a breach.

Sighing, I scratched my head, continuing to pace while a stream of doctors and nurses went in and out of both ICU rooms. No expense would be spared for either man. In addition, security was tighter than ever, our soldiers roaming the hospital floors as well as keeping watch outside. No one suspicious was getting in or out without authorization.

When a doctor walked out, I moved closer. “How is he?”

“Stable. For now. The night is crucial in his recovery and he has a long road ahead, but his chances are good.” I’d been cleared as family so I could receive updates. I’d already sensed the medical professionals weren’t too keen on answering to me.

Tough shit.

“And Mr. Marcini?”

His expression shifted to something grimmer. “He lost a lot of blood, which deprived his brain of oxygen for an extended period of time. Given the extent of his injuries, we’ll need to wait and see if there’s any permanent brain damage. That’s if he survives.”

I cringed hearing the news. Dion had been about to embark on a new aspect of his life and something he’d wanted for years. More power. More control. A family.

Rage tore through me. I would hunt down and eliminate the fuckers who had done this.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

The door opened, a nurse moving silently toward us. “Mr. Banderas?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Santorelli is asking for you.”

“Thank you.” I turned my head toward the doctor.

He threw up his hands. Obviously, the Don had laid out his rules prior to surgery. I motioned for Gio, beckoning him closer.

“Yes, sir?” Now he’d already taken to calling me sir. I wasn’t comfortable with that. I also wasn’t thrilled with his performance earlier and he knew that.

“Any breaches? Any issues?”

Gio shook his head. “None. All is quiet.”

“Word on the street?”

“Bronco is working with the men. Nothing yet. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

This was taking far too damn long. “Remain by the door while I have a conversation with the Don.”

“You got it, boss.”

“Gio. I’m not your boss. Not yet. Just your associate. Okay?”

“Anything you say, boss.”