His gaze speculated for several more seconds.
Then he pushed open the door.
And I lurched towards the man laid out on the bed.
Cesare
‘I’m okay,bedda. I promise. Fuck, don’t cry. I’m fine. Promise.’
‘Y-you’re not. You… you… God, it was horrible, Cesare,’ she rasped.
Maddelena was hoarse from crying, and it was killing me. More than the injuries I’d suffered.
A dislocated shoulder and two sprained ribs. Possible concussion. And the unrivalled memory of barrel-rolling before hanging upside down from a Formula One race car caught in a chainlink wall.
It hurt like a motherfucker, but I was thankful for small mercies. A rib fracture or break would’ve ended my season. Pain from a sprain was fakeable. Another small mercy was that the two assholes had taken each other out and Renzo had ended up winning the race, a big score for the constructors’ championship.
Ionly needed one more race win to secure the drivers’ championship.
We looked up as Rafa re-entered. His eyes darted to Maddelena, who was stretched out beside me on the hospital bed. She tensed but there was no malice in his eyes.
‘Update?’
He’d left an hour ago after confirmation I was fine, heading back to the paddock after the race ended, on a lethal warpath.
His lips curled. ‘The stewards are still deliberating. As if there’s any other way to see this. Those two fuckers deliberately put you in that wall.’ His gaze darted back to Maddelena. ‘Your baby brother is a little shit.’
To my surprise, she nodded, fury brimming her eyes. ‘Agreed.’
Something glimmered in Rafa’s eyes. Respect maybe? ‘But from my initial… probing, he wasn’t primed for it. Just took advantage of it. Not so much our other friend.’
Maddelena twisted in my arms. ‘Are you saying Stan deliberately targeted Cesare?’ she demanded.
‘Yes.’ He met my gaze. ‘I had a quiet word with him. Thestronzucaved even faster this time. He was under orders from his cousin to do whatever it takes to make sure you didn’t finish the race.’
I cursed. ‘Just his cousin?’
Rafa’s gaze rested for a beat on Maddelena. I pulled her close, felt her screaming tension. Her worry. Her resignation.
‘It’s okay. You can say it.’ Her voice broke a little.
Rafa softened. Barely. ‘No, he wasn’t acting on Ivanovski’s sole command. Your grandfather endorsed it too.’
A choked sob escaped, and she tucked her face into my shoulder.
Dropping a hard kiss on her temple, I pinned my livid gaze on my brother. ‘Go get the doctor to hurry the fuck up with my release papers. We’re going to pay Stan a little visit.’
Ivanovski and, unfortunately, El Topo were next on my shit list, but that would need careful planning.
A growl started in my throat when Rafa shook his head. ‘No need,frate. He broke his leg in two places stepping out of the shower after he returned to his dressing room. Initial assessment is it’ll take three months to heal. He’s out for the season.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe out of racing altogether.’
Against my throat, Maddelena muttered, ‘It’s the fucking least he deserves.’
It reminded me that beneath all that gorgeous sexiness lurked the heart of a mobster’s granddaughter.
A mobster who’d tried to have me killed.
‘The fucking bastard had the balls to try it a second time. We can’t let this slide. I hope you know that,nupito.’
