Chapter 11 - The Traitor at the Iron Gate
Santino woke thirty-six hours later in the heavily guarded private penthouse suite of the hospital.
The room was silent except for the rhythmic beep of the cardiac monitor and the soft hiss of supplemental oxygen.
He turned his head slowly.
Caitlyn was curled up asleep in the oversized leather armchair beside his bed, her hand resting on the edge of the mattress, inches from his fingers. She wore a clean grey sweater Walter had brought from the estate, but Donna Isabella’s gold leaf was still pinned over her heart.
Santino moved his hand, his fingers brushing against hers.
Caitlyn’s eyes opened instantly. She sat up, her face softening with an overwhelming relief that she didn't even attempt to conceal.
"You're awake," she whispered, rising to pour a cup of water with a bendable straw.
Santino drank slowly, the cool water soothing his raw throat. He looked at the bandage on her forehead where glass had grazed her during the crash, and then down at the ring on her left hand.
"The doctor told me what you did on the bridge," Santino said, his voice raspy and weak.
"I told you I knew how to stitch flesh," Caitlyn replied, trying to maintain a light tone, though her voice shook.
Santino reached out and took her hand, pulling her gently toward the edge of the bed until she was sitting beside him. He looked into her eyes with an intensity that made the breath catch in her throat.
"You saved my life, Caterina," he said softly. "Nobody has ever protected me. In my entire life... everyone took from me. You gave me my breath back."
"You gave my mother her life," Caitlyn whispered, leaning closer, her thumb gently tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone. "We're even, Mr. Ferraro."
"We will never be even," Santino said. He reached up, cupped the back of her neck, and pulled her down to his lips.
The kiss was slow, gentle, and filled with a profound, unspoken devotion that shattered the last remnants of their business arrangement. Caitlyn leaned into him, her hand resting against the uninjured side of his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart against her palm.
The moment was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
Marco Rossi and Walter stepped into the room, their faces dark and grim.
Santino pulled back from Caitlyn, his demeanor instantly shifting back into the cold, calculated posture of the syndicate boss. "What is it, Marco?"
"The Rhode Island State Police recovered the dump truck from the bridge," Rossi said, closing the door firmly behind him. "The vehicle identification number was ground off, but the hydraulic lift system had a maintenance tag from an industrial yard in Warwick."
"Who owns the yard?" Santino demanded.
Rossi swallowed hard, glancing nervously at Caitlyn. "The yard is owned by a subsidiary of the Corvo Transport Group. Vincent Corvo’s brother-in-law."
Santino’s eyes narrowed into twin slits of pure ice. "Corvo didn't just skim money from the pension fund. He sold our convoy routes to Moretti."
"There's more," Walter added quietly. "Two hours ago, an unmarked ambulance attempted to gain access to the private medical wing at the Newport estate. They had forged transfer papers for Helen Marchetti."
Caitlyn stood up so fast her chair overturned. "What?!"
"Our security intercepted them at the secondary gate," Walter assured her quickly. "The men were armed. They were under orders from Moretti to take your mother as leverage before Santino woke from surgery."
Santino threw off the hospital blankets, ripping the heart monitor leads from his chest with a violent jerk.
"Santino, no!" Caitlyn cried, trying to push him back onto the mattress. "You have thirty internal sutures! You cannot get out of bed!"
Santino grabbed her wrists, his grip iron-hard despite his surgical wounds.
May you like
"Nobody touches your mother, Caterina," Santino said, his voice carrying the terrifying weight of an absolute death sentence. "Nobody touches my family."
He looked up at Walter. "Call the captains. Tell them to assemble at the Warwick yard at midnight. The Ferraro family is finishing this tonight."
