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“Ambush.”

“Santorelli?”

“No.”

A man of many words. I wasn’t likely to get any additional details out of him. He was guarded, close-lipped and completely loyal to my father. When I started to go into the ICU room he acted as if he wasn’t going to let me pass.

“What, Drago? Do you have something to say to me?”

He smirked, his eyebrows furrowing. He was a big, powerful, menacing man, but he didn’t scare me. That had bothered him for years.

“I’ll never support your leadership.”

What the fuck was he talking about? I laughed even though there was nothing funny about the moment or the situation. Waging war on my father meant additional bloodshed. That worried me for my brother and sister. I shook my head, too tired and overwrought to try to ascertain what the hell he was getting at.

When I walked in, the nurse inside the room gave me a hard onceover. “I’m Dr. Carmella Lupini, his daughter.”

The girl nodded, her eyes opening wider when she heard my professional term. Usually that allowed me certain freedoms in a hospital.

“Your father is resting. Don’t be too long.”

“I’ll need to see his doctor.”

“Yes. I’ll have him come in when he can.” She couldn’t have scurried away any faster.

When she was gone, I stood where I was, listening to the subtle beeping of the monitors watching his blood pressure and heartrate. My father looked almost serene, peaceful in a slumber versus being hooked up to machines.

I pulled one of the chairs closer, sitting down and studying him. His face was completely white, his lips so pale I was concerned. At least his heartrate was good, his pulse steady even if his blood pressure was elevated slightly.

Even though I was a doctor, there was nothing worse than being in a hospital room. At least in his room, soundproofing prevented us from hearing any other patients in agony. After staring at him for a few minutes, I dropped my head into my hands. This was another reminder of why I’d done everything in my power to distance myself from the ugliness birthed generations before.

“My beautiful daughter.”

Hearing the wavering in my dad’s voice brought a hard stabbing in my stomach. He’d always been so strong, infallible in my mind. When I lifted my head, the harsh reminder of his age settled like a heavy weight in my gut.

“Daddy. What in the hell happened?”

“One of my many enemies, I suppose.”

“Not Santorelli?”

He tried to laugh, immediately shifting into a coughing fit.

“You need to conserve your energy, Dad. Just rest.” As soon as I tried to stand, he grabbed my hand, his hold surprisingly strong.

“There are some things we need to discuss.” His tone was now imploring.

“Okay, but for only a few minutes.” I sat back down.

He shifted in the bed, licking his lips. “Santorelli is a man of honor.”

“Whatever you say.”

“He was also hit in the attack. Several of his men are down. I need you to check on him for me. You must be the family ambassador while I’m healing.”

I almost choked myself. “What about Drago?”

His sigh was heavy. “A good man, but not well liked. You are a bright star. You have a way with words.”

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