Page 79 of Savage Vows

Once more, I take hold of her.

Together, we enter the building, Nash in front of us, Chiara bringing up the rear.

“Mr. Moretti.” A man in a dark suit approaches, his voice low. The hospital director. “We’ve secured the floor. And he’s already been taken into surgery.”

I nod, the movement stiff, my focus already shifting to the elevators

“Your father is in good hands.”

“I want to see him.”

“Of course, sir.” An elevator stands ready and waiting. “If you’ll follow me?”

Once we exit, we’re greeted by organized chaos.

Doctors in scrubs dart between rooms, nurses with clipboards murmur in hushed tones, and the faint hum of machinery underpins the tension. The bold red letters on the double doors ahead—Restricted Access—seem to pulse, aconstant reminder that everything on the other side hangs in the balance.

My men stand like statues, armed but conspicuous, their sharp eyes scanning every movement in the hallway.

A man in pale blue scrubs greets me. “Mr. Moretti.” He doesn’t shake my hand. “Your father is in surgery.”

So I’m already too late to see him. But that he’s in surgery means the staff reacted quickly.

In a competent, no-nonsense tone, the doctor keeps speaking. “The injuries are severe—shrapnel, internal bleeding, and extensive burns. But he’s strong. We’re doing everything possible.”

I can’t let the words settle. “Define severe.”

“We’ve stabilized him enough for surgery, but the internal damage is significant. If he makes it through the night, his chances improve.”

The room tilts. I clench my fists, steadying myself, forcing the fury and fear down where no one can see. My father is not a man who gives up.

Alessia has not left my side, and her warmth is a contrast to the cold tension inside me.

“He’s strong,” she tells me, repeating the doctor’s words. “You have to believe that.”

Her reassurances shouldn’t matter—they shouldn’t have the power to pierce through the emotional walls I’ve built around myself—but they do.

I glance at her, and for a moment, I let her see what I’ve never revealed to anyone else. My uncertainty. “Belief alone won’t save him.”

“Maybe not.” She doesn’t contradict me. “But it will keep you standing. And that’s what your family needs right now.”

I glance at her. The harsh fluorescent lights cast her in shadows, making her look pale, but her gaze is unwavering. I nod and then turn back to the doctor.

“Call me with updates every fifteen minutes,” I say, each word clipped and deliberate. “If there’s even the smallest change?—”

“You’ll be the first to know,” the doctor promises as he leaves us.

The director shows us to our private area, and he promises that immediate family and Nico will be brought up as they arrive.

Chiara remains in the hallway, but I motion to Nash to join us.

Inside there are comfortable chairs and windows that reflect darkness and despair back at me. “I want them closed.”

Alessia handles my request immediately while I look at Nash. “You think it was a hit?”

He’s too much of a professional to answer directly. “I know you’ll want a full investigation.”

Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, I’m convinced this wasn’t random. Someone knew the Don’s route, and I want to know who the rat is.