Page 53 of Surprise Twins for the Mafia Prince
“Ma’am, we need you to answer a few questions.”
I blink and turn to look at the cop beside me. He’s wearing a brown patrol uniform and holding a little notepad and pen like this is some quaint small-town investigation instead of a shooting on the Vegas strip. The look on his face is severe and full of suspicion.
I know I’m a terrible liar—my entire face broadcasts deception like a neon billboard—but I also know that what I say right now is important. I straighten my spine and force myself to give theofficer my attention, even though I’d much rather watch the paramedics work on Dario.
“What’s your name?” the officer asks.
“Paige. Paige Dawes,” I answer, my voice steadier than I expected considering the circumstances.
The officer scribbles in his notepad before looking up. “And your friend?”
“He’s my husband.” The lie rolls off my tongue with surprising ease, born of the fear they won’t let me go with him unless I’m family. I straighten my shoulders slightly. “His name is Dario Andretti.”
The cop’s eyebrows shoot up like they’re spring-loaded, and a muscle ticks in his jaw.
“DarioAndretti?” He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Isn’t he connected to organized crime?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, aiming for clueless and landing somewhere around defiant. “He’s never been convicted of anything like that.”
Dario told me he was arrested once for a bar brawl between some mafia members and a street gang about ten years ago, but his dad made it all disappear. Other than that, he’s managed to stay out of jail. I don’t even know the magnitude of crimes he’s committed, but I’m sure it’s taken a lot of effort to stay off the police’s radar.
Still, the fact that the Andrettis run the Vegas mafia is the worst kept secret in the city.
“Ma’am, it’s believed that Dario Andretti, along with his father and several other members of his family, are involved in criminal activities. Would you happen to know anything about that? Maybe you have some information about what happened here tonight?”
“The only thing I know is that the two of us were walking along the sidewalk, about to head home, when a car sped by and shot at us for no reason!” I snap. “Now, what are you guys going to do about it?”
“Calm down, please. We need to gather more information for now. So, you say that a car drove by...”
I stop listening. The paramedics have brought over a gurney and are moving Dario onto it. I go to step around the cop, but his hand shoots out to grasp my arm. I flinch like I’ve been burned.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He glares at me with barely concealed annoyance.
“Why are you acting like we’re the bad guys?” I demand. “We’re victims.”
“Then, why are you being so difficult?”
I’m feeling panicked as the paramedics start to load Dario into the ambulance. I don’t want him out of my sight until he’s at the hospital, and I definitely don’t want to be stuck here, answering questions about things I don’t understand from a man who clearly has his mind made up.
“What’s going on?” another officer asks, joining us with a frown on his face.
“She’s not cooperating, Mogen,” the cop with his hand still clamped on my arm says.
“She’s probably in shock. Someone shot at her. She should go get checked out at the hospital while we process the crime scene.” Officer Mogen sends a pointed look at the other officer, who reluctantly releases my arm.
“Fine. But I’m going to follow up with you at the hospital,” he tells me. “Something doesn’t add up here.”
Whatever. I can’t bring myself to care what he thinks at the moment. I rush toward the ambulance, reaching it right before they shut the doors.
“Please, let me come with you. He’s my husband,” I shout to the man adjusting the oxygen mask on Dario’s face.
The lie comes easier the second time, and there’s a fluttering in my chest that I choose not to examine too closely. The paramedics let me into the ambulance, and I hold Dario’s limp hand during the ride, silently reciting a prayer I didn’t even remember I knew.
Once we reach the hospital, I remember what Dario said about calling someone to protect me. I was too panicked at the scene to do that, but now I’m alone in the hospital waiting room as they wheel Dario into surgery.
Pulling out my phone, I vaguely note that my hands are shaking again. I’m a wreck, and I have to wonder if what Officer Mogen said about going into shock is true.
I pull up Alessio’s contact and send him a text, briefly explaining what happened and which hospital we’re at. With that done, I wander aimlessly around the waiting room, anxious for news about Dario.
