Greta peered up at me hopefully. Gritting my teeth against an onslaught of emotions I was fully unprepared for, I held the phone to her ear.
“Stabbed, twice, in my abdomen,” she whispered. “I don’t think I can. This feels like dying.” I took her hand.
Nevio shoved to his feet and went over to Greta’s attacker. I motioned at Savio to keep an eye on him. He slammed his foot down on the man’s ankle a few times but I focused on Greta.
She closed her eyes, and nodded. “I love you too.” She shuddered and lowered her hand.
I squeezed her hand but she didn’t react. Her chest kept rising and falling but she’d lost consciousness.
When I’d found out what had gone on behind my back in my own territory, I had been furious. I always knew what was happening in my territory. Maybe I’d turned a blind eye to the truth because I didn’t want to see it.
Greta loved that fucker Amo Vitiello.
“It’s on him. Amo Vitiello. He’s the reason for this, I just know it!” Nevio snarled, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head wildly.
“If she dies,” he snarled, eyes gleaming with despair.
“She won’t,” I warned.
“We’re ready!” Nino shouted, and he and a doctor lifted Greta on a stretcher. I stayed by her side as we headed for the helicopter. Nevio jogged after us, expression conflicted. I could feel his bloodlust, his need to destroy Greta’s attacker. I got it. Fuck, I wanted to rip him apart piece by piece.
“There’ll be time for revenge later. Now Greta needs us.”
With a last look at the attacker, Nevio hopped into the helicopter. Savio, Massimo and Alessio would make sure the attacker was taken to Las Vegas where he’d spill all his knowledge and die an excruciating death.
An hour after we’d arrive in the Camorra hospital, Serafina came rushing in. She was in her pyjamas, her hair a mess, and her eyes red from crying. I caught her before she could storm into the operation room where Greta was undergoing surgery.
“Where is she?”
“She’s in surgery.”
She hammered her fists against my chest, eyes desperate. “You should have woken me!”
“You couldn’t have done anything.”
Serafina hit my chest again then she sagged against me. I touched the back of her head. On occasion I wondered if I possessed a heart. In moments like this I knew I did, but it only beat for very few people.
Fabiano caught my gaze over Serafina’s head. “How is she?”
I took a deep breath. “She’ll pull through.”
She had to survive.
Serafina and I sank down beside Nevio who had his arms propped up on his thighs and was staring at the floor, ignoring everything around him.
“I’ll return to the mansion for additional protection. Call me once you know more.” Fabiano headed back out.
Five hours later Nino came back out of the operation room. He’d kept an eye on the doctors to make sure they did everything in their power to save Greta. His face didn’t bode well. I rose to my feet, my chest constricting.
“She’s stable,” Nino said but I knew that was the good news. “Due to the severity of her injuries the doctors had to perform a hysterectomy. The knee will need another surgery but it’s uncertain if Greta will be able to dance again.”
Serafina let out a desperate sob and sank down into the chair.
Nevio shoved past Nino and went into the operation room. A minute later he returned, paler than I’d ever seen him. “Someone will pay for this.”
He stalked outside, shortly after I heard an enraged shout.
Serafina peered up me. “How much more blood does have to be spilled for this madness to end? Isn’t it enough?”