Page 78 of Savage Vows

“Good.” I exhale slightly. And if Dante’s there, our mother is safe. “She’ll want to go to the hospital.”

“I’ve got a car ready.”

“Take separate vehicles.” Those aren’t words I ever wanted to say. But if this was a targeted attack, no member of the family is safe, and I need to minimize potential casualties. Protocols must be followed.

“That was my plan.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“You rolling?” he asks.

“Will be in less than two minutes.” True to promise, I hear Alessia descending the staircase. “Meet at the hospital.”

Dante’s voice drops, quieter now. “We’ll fucking handle this.”

I close my eyes for half a second. He doesn’t mean the hospital or our parents. He means everything—the aftermath, the family, the retribution, the war—that may be coming.

Without waiting for my response, he hangs up, and I let my phone drop to my side.

Forcing myself to get it together, I check my device for the missed calls. Dante and Nico.

Since I’ve already talked to my brother, I call Nico.

“On the way,” he tells me, skipping a greeting just like Dante had. There’s noise in the background, as if he’s heading to a vehicle.

“Make sure Bella is there,” I tell him.

Nico is quiet for a moment, and I know he wants to protect her as much as I do Alessia.

“She’s an essential part of managing the situation.”

“Yeah.”

He’ll do his duty, as I will. “And maybe Celeste.” Having a full crisis team on site is probably advisable.

I drop my phone into my pocket. “Dario been notified?” I ask Nash.

He nods.

At least once a quarter, we review our emergency management plan, something we never want to implement. But we need to prepare for all possibilities.

I know plans have been made to secure the parts of the hospital that my father will be in, and there will be a private room for our family to gather.

Alessia joins me. Her expression is grim, but she’s totally composed.

“Stay close, Alessia.” I cup her elbow, my grip firmer than normal, and she doesn’t protest. “Don’t give me a reason to regret this.”

“I won’t,” she promises.

The decoy car is already gone before we’re underway.

Alessia remains quiet while I respond to text messages and talk to my mother.

In what seems like an interminable amount of time, our convoy screeches to a halt under the glow of the Moretti Family Trauma and Surgical Center sign. The letters are a reminder of everything my father has fought for and everything I’m expected to protect.

I step out first, scanning the area, even though guards are positioned around us.

When I’m certain we’re safe, I turn back to Alessia.

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