Page 89 of Mafia Darling

After six hours, Fausto came out of surgery in stable but serious condition, and was taken to the ICU. The doctors explained the bullet went in through his back and out his side, and Marco had likely saved Fausto’s life by packing the wound with the sponges in the car. During the operation, they repaired one of Fausto’s kidneys and a torn portion of his small intestines, and removed his gallbladder. They were optimistic about his recovery, but the risk of infection was high.

He hadn’t woken up yet, and they were keeping him on a ventilator for now. But he was alive. Pale, but alive.

We arranged for a large private room, one with a small bed for me. Guards were posted outside the room and throughout the hospital itself. Anyone coming into Fausto’s room had to wear special identification, including doctors and nurses. Considering Enzo had escaped, we weren’t taking any chances.

Zia began praying over Fausto’s prone form, while Giulio and I talked quietly off to the side. “I will have someone bring you clothes,” he said. “Anything else you want from home?”

“I’ll text you a list. Has there been any word from Marco?”

“Yes. It was a professional. They found his location, up on a rooftop across the street from your doctor’s office. Probably hired by Enzo’s men as a diversion from the attack on the castello.”

I rubbed my eyes, trying to take it all in. “And Enzo?”

“We don’t know. I can’t imagine he’ll stay in Siderno. It’s too dangerous and he’s too weak. My guess is he’s being taken back to Naples.” He hugged me. “We have to focus on Fausto right now. Thankfully, it looks like you won’t be a widow quite yet, matrigna.”

“I feel as though today has taken several years off my life.” I leaned into his solid warmth. “Thank God he let you come with us. I’m so glad you were here.”

“Same, bella. I’ll take Zia home and we’ll return in the morning.” He kissed my cheeks. “Try and get some sleep.”

“I will. You too, G. Stay safe. We have a long road ahead of us.”

Nesto poked his head in, takeout containers in his arms. “Signora Ravazzani, I brought food.”

I let go of Giulio and held out my hands. “Bless you, Nesto. I hope there is pasta in there.” With Fausto now out of surgery, I felt like my stomach could finally handle food.

“Just as you requested. And plenty of tiramisu.” He gave me the containers and kissed my cheeks. “Take care of Don Ravazzani for us.”

“I will. Grazie, Nesto. Seriously, this is amazing.”

“Prego, signora. We are all thinking of you and praying for the don’s recovery.”

“Please, call me Frankie.”

Giulio made a hissing noise through his teeth, then barked orders at Nesto. When the younger man left, Giulio frowned. “They must respect you. Do not get close to them. Let them address you properly as the don’s wife.”

“Aren’t you being a little harsh?”

“You and I must hold everything together until Fausto recovers. No one can suspect we might be weak. This world, it preys on weakness. Marco will help, but we are the Ravazzanis responsible for the future. It falls to us to carry on when my father cannot, capisce?”

This version of Giulio was worlds away from the one who’d splashed me in the water and helped me buy lingerie. He was deadly serious, his shoulders stiff with the weight of all that rested upon them. I gave him a grim smile. “I understand. This isn’t going to be easy for you, is it?”

“No, but it is what’s expected.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Good, because those spreadsheets and stock reports are like Japanese to me. I’ve never been good with numbers.”

Math wasn’t my best subject in school, but I wasn’t terrible at it, either. And I remembered my lunch with Zio Toni. Talking over the business stuff had been interesting. “I think I can handle the legitimate side with Toni.” Probably.

“And I’ll handle the other side.”

“I can help with the ’ndrina business, too.”

Giulio immediately shook his head. “Fausto would kill me. You stay clean and out of prison.”

“G—”

“No, Frankie.”

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