Page 4 of Savage Saint
“Anything.” He exhales, cupping her face.
Alessa licks her lips. “Anything?” Her voice raspier and breathing shallower.
“Jesus wept. Do you two need a room, or can we get on with whatever I need to be here for?” I sigh, loudly shutting the passenger door.
Alessa takes a step back, causing Dante to shoot me an annoyed look. Whatever. It worked. Without looking back at me, he takes Alessa’s hand and leads her through the automatic door and into the hospital reception area.
The sterile scent of antiseptic invades my nostrils, mingling with the faint undercurrent of despair hanging in the air. As I reluctantly follow them, each step feels like wading through murky waters, thick with the tension of my mood getting darker.
The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh glare, illuminating the worried faces of waiting families. The waiting area is a cacophony of muted beeps from machines and soft conversation.
With my heart pounding in my chest like a wild drumbeat warning of impending doom, I try to stop the chaos swirling in my mind. The anxiety of being inthisplace coiling tighter and tighter, like a noose around my throat, stifling my breath. I glance at the stark white walls, trying not to think that despite the brightness, this place is where hope comes to die.
I hate hospitals. Hate them with a passion. It’s where I spent most of my seventh grade, skipping classes to hang out withmammawhile she was undergoing treatments. It’s not that I resent the time I spent here, more like the unnecessary torture they put my mother through. She withered away each time she left this place, but it didn’t stop her from coming back for more. It’s hard not to blame myself for the pain she went through just to try and live a little longer, especially since I made her promise she’ll do anything to fight the disease. I was a selfish little bastard who couldn’t see past not wanting to lose his mother.
Alessa squeezes my hand as we walk into an elevator. It’s like she knows the black cloud in my mind is getting darker andmore chaotic the longer I’m here. I clear my throat and press the button for the private floor we have in the building—only the best for the Santoros, medical care not excluded—and close my eyes, waiting for the metallic clang reverberating through the air to announce our ascent.
After Dante took over, he made sure to heavily invest in Blackwood. The hospital, which used to be understaffed and dated, was one of the first on his list. Within five years, the building was unrecognisable, with state-of-the-art medical equipment. Blackwood Hospital became one of the hidden gems for anyone in the medical field. Graduates from Ivy League schools fought for residency here, just so they could work under some of the best surgeons and doctors in the country.
A little too late if you asked me. Would have been nice if our father had shown any interest in improving the facilities while his wife was wasting away here. Alas, he was too busy screwing around to make sure she was being cared for properly in her last days. I hate that fucker more than hospitals.
Dante thinks karma got him in the end, but I disagree. Early-onset dementia saved our father from answering for what he’s done.
He’s gotten away with being a shitty husband and father, and as much as I want to make him pay for it, what’s the point if he doesn’t know why?
I've avoided the man for the better part of the last fifteen years, ever since his diagnosis. The only time I see him is when he is forced to show his face briefly at functions so that everyone can be fooled into thinking Massimo Santoro is still in charge. All the while, his three sons have been pulling the strings for over a decade.
I barely notice the elevator stop and Alessa gently guiding me through the corridor and into the waiting area.
“You okay?” she whispers.
I start to reply, but then I see the tightness in Dante’s shoulders, understanding the question was not meant for me. It was only a couple of weeks ago we were here for her, Dante losing his mind with worry for the woman he loves after Nicolosi kidnapped her, intent on making sure she disappears. Like I said, the capo has a death wish—one I’ll gladly grant him.
I look around for Luca, but before I can ask about him, he comes out of a supply closet, a shit eating grin splitting his face as he zips his trousers, one of the nurses following close behind him. Too focused on Alessa, Dante doesn’t notice what our brother has been up to.
“Now that we’re all in the same room,” I say in a bored tone. “Can we please get to the reason you dragged me here?”
Dante finally spots Luca, whose stupid grin has thankfully disappeared, a look of concern on his face instead.
“Right.” Dante nods. “It’s about the girl.”
I sigh, resigned. I’m not an idiot. The fact that we’re standing in the waiting room of the private floor of the hospital after I discovered an unconscious woman locked in a container points to just that. But if they want to treat me as one, I’ll let them, so instead of replying, I let my gaze drift to the window, noticing the darkening sky. A storm is brewing outside, mirroring the one in my head.
“After examining her,” Dante continues, as I reluctantly tear my gaze away from the window and look back at him. “The doctors have some theories.”
“Brilliant, we have some budding detectives on the medical staff. Just what everyone needs,” I mutter.
“Don’t be a dick,” Dante growls.
“What are the theories, then? Who is she?”
“We still don’t know who she is. She didn’t have any documents on her. Nothing to identify her. Arrow is doinghis thing with her DNA sample, so hopefully, we’ll have some answers soon.”
“If she’s in the system,” I retort. Arrow is our hacker, one that has worked with us for years. They’re the best of the best, but even they won’t be able to make something out of nothing.
“If she’s not, we’ll just have to wait until she wakes up so she can tell us who she is and how she ended up in Nicolosi’s container,” Luca says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
“We think we might know why,” Alessa says quietly, her voice tight. She looks up at Dante, her eyes silently pleading for him to continue.
