She looks at me. “Cipi, are you okay?”
I grip the edge of the table. My breath is caught between my teeth.
Her eyes drop to my bloodstained fingers. “You cut yourself?”
I twist my hips slightly so she can see the large wet stain making its way down my gown.
She screams. “Bruno! Come here now!”
So much for being subtle.
The crowd is startled and voices die.
Bruno is by my side within seconds while the other guards push the guests back.
“What’s wrong?” He gasps as he catches sight of my bloody hands and dress. “What the fuck?” He waves his arm and three soldiers surround me, shielding me from the crowd who now has their full attention on me.
Bruno rips off his jacket and wraps it around me. My legs can no longer hold my weight but Bruno grips one arm tightly while a guard takes the other.
“Lock down the perimeter. There’s a shooter among us. Round up the guests. No one leaves,” he snarls to Salvatore. Then he turns to Gigi. “Get your mother and meet us at the hospital.”
Gigi is frozen in place
“Now Ginevra!” Bruno turns on another soldier. “Get her to her mother safely and grab the grandmother too.” The guard takes Gigi by the arm and leads her away from me.
I try to speak, but copper fills my mouth.
Bruno is on one side of me and a soldier Emiliano is on the other as they maneuver me through the French doors that are feet from the cake table.
Bruno speaks, but I can’t hear him with the ringing in my ears.
Each step feels like I have concrete chained to my feet. I don’t know if the crowd knows I’ve been shot or what’s going on.
“Silencer…Fucking professional…when I catch the bastard he’s dead…” Bruno hisses to Emiliano.
Cool fall air hits me in the face. A shiver runs down my spine as the breeze kisses my hot skin. My feet touch the deck. My heartbeat throbs in my side.
The door slams as Bruno sweeps me into his arms and runs to the black SUV parked in the driveway.
“Stay with me, Farfalla. Stay the fuck with me,” he murmurs.
“Mario! Dai, Mario! Dai!” Emiliano yells to our driver Mario who is taking a smoking break.
Mario drops the cigar onto the pavement and runs over, unlocking the car.
Bruno and Emiliano pile into the backseat sandwiching me between them.
“To the hospital now and step on it!” Bruno shouts.
“What’s going on?” Mario yells as he starts the engine and presses the gas.
“She’s been shot!”
“By who?”
“We don’t know, but the fucker is most likely still in the mansion.”
White-hot pain tears through my side, stealing the air from my lungs.
