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I reach for my gun the same time he does, my men following suit behind me. The Merlini guards get up from the couches, guns drawn as well as they surround us.
“Easy, fellas,” Nereo says before he sets down his glass. “I’m sure we can sit and talk.”
“Tell me how you know about the girl,” I say, pointing my gun at Dante as I speak.
He shrugs. “It’s a small city when you run half of it with the other family, Marco. People talk. Did you really think they wouldn’t find out? They have more money than God and I like to talk when money’s involved. Plus, it’s easy to find shit out when you have piss poor execution when it comes to handling your business.” He cocks his gun and glares at me.
“Stealing her from her apartment in broad daylight? Come on, Marco. Your father raised you better than that,” Dante chuckles, my restraint snapping as soon as the words leave his fucking mouth.
I fire my gun, shooting him directly in the shoulder as shots go off all around us. Diego blocks me and orders the men out of the restaurant before pressing on his earpiece for the guard that we have on standby in the car. He leads us out of the restaurant as guns continue to fire, all of us quickly following suit. Before I’m able to step outside, a bullet grazes my arm, clipping me on my way out. I bite back my bellow and run with my men, holding the wound as I continue to fire behind me. We pile in the car, glass shattering as they continue to fire at the vehicle while we speed away.
“Get fucking down!” I shout at my men once they’re in the car, firing one last shot until our guard speeds away from the restaurant.
“They won’t follow us. We’re on their territory line. If they cross, it’s an official war,” Diego says to us, offering me a towel to wrap around my wound that continues to bleed all over the car.
He’s right. They won’t follow us. That back there was only a disagreement and we were on their turf. If they cross the territory line, they’ll be biting off more than they can chew, regardless if they’re working with the Saracino’s now. While the Saracino’s may have more money than God like Dante said, I have more men then all of them combined. I have guards and soldiers on every fucking corner, not to mention a massive family in both Rome and Sicily. The Merlini’s and Saracino’s would be dead before an official start of war could even be declared.
“Is it bad, boss?” Diego asks, looking at my arm as we speed down the freeway.
“No,” I say, my tone clipped as I bite through the words.
I’m not going to the hospital, leaders of the family don’t do that. Especially me. I’ll die of a heart attack before that ever fucking happens. Hopefully my mother will still be up when I get home so that she can stitch this. I’m good with a gun, not a needle.
The drive back home is much faster than it was into the city, my feet already stepping out of the car before it has a chance to come to a complete stop in the driveway. I rush up the stone path of the driveway and step inside the mansion, running through the kitchen to check for my mother. If she was up, she would be in here, but the kitchen is empty.
“Shit,” I mumble, looking at the ceiling as I bleed through the towel.
I refuse to have Diego or any of my men do it, so my only option at this point is the blind beauty I have hidden upstairs. I curse and grab my emergency kit from the hall bathroom on my way towards her bedroom, walking straight inside as soon as I reach her door. She looks up from her spot on the bed, the camera that she was messing with falling from her hands.
“Marco, what’s wrong?” She asks, her hazel eyes scanning my body.
When I step closer to her, the light of her bedside lamp revealing my arm, she gasps.
“What happened?” She asks, getting up from the bed, her silky night dress draping her tight body in all the right places.
Jesus, how is she so perfect? She looks like an angel. I must be losing a lot of blood.
She grabs my arm, her fingers hovering over my reddened wound.
“You were shot?” She asks, her gaze flicking back to mine as she speaks.
“It was a minor disagreement,” I say through closed teeth, biting through the pain as she holds my arm in her tiny, warm hands.
“You need to go to the hospital, Marco. You're covered in blood. Where else were you injured?” She says, her voice frantic and filled with worry.
It makes that brick wall that I have built between us crack even more.
“Not all of it is mine. I was only grazed in the arm. Hospital is not an option. I need you to stitch it. My mother’s asleep and I won’t have my men do it,” I say, walking into the bathroom as her footsteps sound behind me.
“Marco, I don’t know if I can… I can’t really see, in case you’ve forgotten,” she says quietly from behind me, my ass resting against the sink as I unwrap the towel and get my emergency kit ready with my free hand, the needle inside already threaded.
When I go to get it, I notice that itstill has plenty of butterfly stitches and gauze. Thank Godfor my mother. No needle is needed for tonight. I'll have her fix it first thing in the morning. For the time being, all I need to do is stop the bleeding.
“It’s just taping. I’ll hold the skin together, you just need to place the stitches on where I guide you,” I say, holding the needle out to her in offering.
“Okay,” she whispers, grabbing it with her small hand.
I guide her hand to the wound, hissing when her finger presses against it.
