Page 48 of Mafia Handbook

“A few weeks, maybe a month.” He shrugged, hating to place such a hard limit on life expectancy.

“I’d like to see him,” the words were out of her mouth before she could internally debate them.

“I’m glad to hear you say that. Mr. Rossi has been searching for you for nearly a month.”

Milena inwardly scoffed; Frank was a powerful man. If he wanted to find someone, he found them. “Why now?” The thought slipped from her lips.

“Facing one's mortality can be a sobering reminder of how precious life is.”

Milena hardly recognized the pale-skinned man lying in the bed, the ruby ring on his index finger one of the few clues to his identity. Granted, the small army of made-men in the hall helped a little.

“The pain meds make him sleepy,” Dr. Spencer offered. “When he learned you were on your way, he didn't want to take them, but I convinced him he should have something to take the edge off. You have time to grab something to eat if you’re hungry.”

Keeping her focus on her father’s ashen face, “No thank you.”

“Helicopter flights leave me without an appetite as well.” Tipping his head toward the closed door. “Frank left strict instructions with the men out there to get you anything you need.”

Tossing her bag to the corner of the room, Milena grabbed the lone empty chair in the room, moving it to within inches of Frank’s bed and sitting down. “Thank you, Dr. Spencer, for taking care of him.” Glancing around the empty room, her brows bent as a thought popped into her head. “Where is his wife, Skyla?”

Dropping his gaze to the floor, “Mrs. Rossi was here for a few moments during his admission, took a call and hasn’t been seen since.”

Something shifted deep inside Milena, a piece of her heart Nona nurtured with decency and respect. No one, not even the devil himself, deserved to die alone. Turning back to her father, Milena reached out, placing her hand over his. Her gaze drifted along the tubes and wires until they collided with a pair of eyes which resembled hers.

“Lena?” Her father’s gravelly voice questioned.

“No, Frank. It’s Milena.”

“Oh, thank God. I thought I was too late.”

“Too late for what”

As much as he hated to hear his first name fall from her lips, he knew he deserved it. “To make things right with my only daughter.”

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