AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The door to Sophie’s hospital room swung open, and two bulky guys in black suits entered, followed by a distinguished man I didn’t recognize.
His black hair was peppered with grey, and his black three-piece tailored suit might’ve made a lesser man look overdressed—but not him.
This was a man used to his status, used to wielding power. And he sure as hell wasn’t a doctor.
I side-eyed Alessio, who had moved next to me, a tense look on his face. When he mouthed, “Moretti,” my blood ran cold.
Fuck me.
Was this Salvatore Moretti? The head of the Moretti family? The same man Fausto claimed had an ongoing feud with my father—the very one who had witnessed Fausto kill my father?
Fausto.
Speak of the devil.
As if I’d conjured him up, Fausto strode in behind Moretti, smiling nonchalantly in that infuriating way that made me long to wipe the smile off his face permanently.
Kill him slowly and painfully.
My vision tunneled, and my pulse pounded as I clenched my fists and widened my stance.
Braced to attack.
Alessio moved behind me, then grabbed my arm in a punishing grip and drove his fingernails into my skin—hard. “Not here,” he muttered under his breath.
I nodded but kept my gaze locked on the intruders.
“Hey, Salvo,” my mother said, looking as surprised as I felt. “Why are you here?”
Moretti seemed taken aback by her question, and it took him a moment—spent staring at my mother—before his tight expression softened. “We heard there was an ambulance called to Castello dei Pietra and a female patient admitted to the hospital.” He swallowed, then looked at Alessandro, Cristo, and Sophie, and then our eyes locked.
He rubbed the back of his neck before he tore his eyes away and gazed at my mother again. “I didn’t know your sons were back, and I thought, it was maybe…you.” His voice trailed off.
What the hell was going on between them? And why would Salvatore Moretti rush to the hospital just because he thought my mother was hospitalized?
“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” My mother’s sharp tone of voice cut through the air like a sword. My head whipped to her, and I stared at her in shock.
I’d never once heard her talk to anyone that way—let alone the head of a rival family.
She was the most social and polite person I knew.
Usually.
“You should leave,” I said and stepped forward, with Alessio hot on my heels, both our hands on our guns.
Moretti bowed his head, moved, and I heard a sharp inhale from behind me.
I spun around and looked at Sophie, who had turned white as her hospital sheet—her bulging eyes staring at Fausto, her mouth gaping like she couldn’t breathe.
Fuck.
I whipped back around.
Moretti had blocked Sophie’s view of Fausto, but I could see the same shock of recognition in Fausto’s eyes as I did in Sophie’s.
The same kind of terror.
Was this the moment to draw my gun? Or should I take this outside?
