Page 23 of Mafia Kingdom

I glance at him, surprised. “Really? I don’t remember that.”

He chuckles, keeping his eyes on the road. The movement of his head makes his cross earring waggle. I doubt it’s religious. “Yeah, Marco had warned everyone to stay away from you.”

“What? Why?” I blurt out, the shock evident in my voice.

Baz laughs again, a bit louder this time. “We thought he had a thing for you. I think we all did, a good girl among bad boys,” he says, glancing at me with a smirk.

I’m taken aback, trying to process this new information. Marco had a thing for me? I shake my head, trying to refocus as I notice a blockage up ahead. The traffic slows us, giving me more time to think.

Baz goes quiet, and the silence becomes uncomfortable. I feel like I should say something, anything, to keep him from deciding that sitting in this traffic isn’t worth it.

Buddy barks suddenly, and I turn to rub his head, trying to calm him down. It seems like Baz has forgotten about his extra passenger; we don’t need to give him a reminder. Just then, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. There’s a sudden, sharp sound—a bullet whizzing past me. I freeze as it hits Baz, the force jerking him back against the seat.

Chaos erupts. Blood pours from the wound on his chest, soaking his shirt. Buddy is barking wildly, and people outside the car are screaming. I lie down across the seat, instinctively trying to make myself a smaller target. My hands are shaking as I press them against Baz’s wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood, but it keeps gushing out between my fingers.

“Baz, stay with me!” I shout, my voice breaking. His eyes are wide with pain and fear, his breathing shallow and rapid. “Someone, help us!” I scream, hoping someone will hear me over the chaos.

Sirens wail around us, growing louder by the second. It all happens so fast—the Gardai arrive, their cars screeching to a halt, and two ambulances pull up behind them. I’m in shock, my mind struggling to process everything. The dog’s barking fades into the background noise as paramedics rush to Baz, pushing me aside gently but firmly.

I’m placed in the back of another ambulance with my dog. I’m shaking uncontrollably, my hands covered in Baz’s blood. One of the paramedics checks my vitals, her face a mask of professional calm.

“She’s in shock,” someone says, their voice distant and echoing in my ears. The ambulance doors close, and we speed toward the hospital. I can’t stop shaking, my mind replaying thescene over and over. Baz’s blood, the barking, the screams—it’s all a blur.

I clutch Buddy close to me, feeling his warmth and hoping it can anchor me to some semblance of reality—my dad. I need to see my dad.

The hospital lights are glaringly bright, casting a harsh glow over everything. I'm sitting in a room, my hands trembling, heart pounding. Through the slit in the curtain, I see Baz rushed past; he was in bad shape. I can still see the blood on his face, the way his eyes fluttered closed as they wheeled him away.

I barely have time to process it all when the Gardai approach me. Their faces are stern, professional, but there's a glimmer of concern in their eyes.

"Miss, can you tell us what happened?" one of them asks, pen poised over his notepad.

I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. "I... I was just coming to see my dad in the hospital.”

“Why is your dad in the hospital?”

“My dad...he was beaten up." My voice trembles, tears threatening to spill over."Baz was giving me a lift. That's all."

The Gardai writes everything down, his pen scratching against the paper. The questions keep coming, but my mind is a blur. I can't think straight, can't focus on their words. I'm reliving the horror of Baz being shot; it could have been me. If I hadn’t bent over to rub Buddy, I would be dead.

Suddenly, the curtain is pulled open, and Marco steps in. His presence is commanding, as always. The Gardai look up, startled by the intrusion. His black suit looks like he’s ready to go to a funeral. He looks so different than the way he was last night. There isn’t a flicker of the pain or loss now. His dark eyes are soulless.

"That's enough," Marco says, his voice firm. "Leave her alone for now."

The Gardai hesitates for a moment before nodding and stepping back. Jesus, that’s the kind of power the Mafia have.

Marco turns to me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, his tone softer, but I still sense the bite in his words.

I shake my head. "No, I'm fine."

He exhales, relief flashing across his face, quickly replaced by anger. "What were you thinking, leaving my home like that?"

"I just wanted to see my dad," I protest weakly.

"Not here," he cuts me off, his voice a low growl. "We'll talk about this later."

Two more men appear in the doorway, Marco’s security. I can assume from the way they position themselves on either side of me, their watchful eyes making my skin prickle with unease. Marco gives them a nod before he leaves to check on Baz. My mind is spinning. My dog wasn’t allowed inside, and the worry gnaws at me. Is he safe? Is he okay out there?

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