Chapter 4 - CANCELED BY BLOOD
The penthouse atop the Lombardi Tower was locked down like a bunker.
Steel blast shutters sealed the panoramic glass windows.
Armed guards stood every ten paces along the private corridors.
In the master suite, surgical lamps bathed the bed in harsh, sterile white light.
Dr. Rossi pulled the final suture tight.
He snipped the thread with stainless steel scissors.
The tray beside him was filled with red gauze and silver clamps.
“The blade missed her liver by less than an inch,” Rossi said, peeling off his rubber gloves.
He wiped sweat from his forehead.
“She lost blood. Significant blood.”
“Will she recover?” Dante asked.
He stood at the foot of the bed.
He had not washed the blood from his hands.
He had not changed his ruined shirt.
“She’s young. She’s strong,” Rossi replied cautiously.
“She needs forty-eight hours of absolute quiet.”
“She stays here,” Dante said.
Rossi nodded, packed his instruments, and stepped out under the watchful eye of two guards.
The room fell quiet.
Only the rhythmic beep of the cardiac monitor filled the space.
Gemma lay among the dark linen sheets.
Her dark curls were spread across the pillows.
Her skin was pale, but her breathing had steadied.
Dante walked to the bedside table.
He picked up the leather-bound Falcone folder.
He sat in the armchair beside her.
He opened it.
The contents were monstrous.
Wire transfers dating back four years.
Payments to harbor inspectors.
Transcripts of encrypted calls between Salvatore Falcone and crooked port captains.
And the autopsy photograph of Leo.
Beneath the photo lay a handwritten letter in Bianca Falcone’s elegant script.
A letter to her father.
Dante read the words.
Leo Lombardi was too curious about the southern berths.
The poison looked like salt water in his lungs.
Dante suspects nothing.
Once the ring is on his finger, we take the northern terminals.
He will be dead within a year of the wedding.
Dante’s fingers crushed the paper.
A vein throbbed violently at his temple.
For three years, he had carried the guilt of Leo’s death.
He had believed he failed to protect his younger brother.
He had agreed to this marriage to bring peace, to ensure no more Lombardi blood ran in the streets.
And the murderers were the very monsters he was supposed to welcome into his home tomorrow.
The bedside phone began to ring.
It was the secure line.
Dante picked up the receiver.
“Speak.”
“Dante, darling.”
Bianca Falcone’s smooth, melodic voice drifted through the speaker.
She sounded playful.
Innocent.
“The florist is asking about the white orchids for the altar.”
“They arrived an hour late, but they look divine.”
Dante looked at Gemma’s resting face.
He looked at the bandage over her ribs.
“The orchids won't be necessary, Bianca.”
A pause lingered on the line.
“What do you mean, sweetheart?”
“The wedding is canceled.”
Her voice tightened instantly.
The playful tone vanished.
“Is this a joke, Dante? My father has five hundred guests arriving in eight hours.”
“Every family on the eastern seaboard is on their way to the cathedral.”
“Tell your father to keep the cathedral,” Dante said.
His voice was dead ice.
“He can use it for your funerals.”
“Dante—what are you talking about?”
“Gemma Thorne is in my bed,” Dante said.
“She brought your folder, Bianca.”
A sharp intake of air hissed across the line.
Bianca’s composure shattered.
“She was supposed to be dead,” Bianca snarled, the mask completely dropping.
“She is an assistant, Dante! A nobody!”
“You would throw away an empire for a secretary?”
“She isn't a nobody,” Dante replied softly.
His gaze rested on Gemma’s quiet face.
“She is the only person in this city who was willing to bleed for the truth.”
“And you, Bianca?”
“You are already dead.”
Dante hung up the phone.
He did not place it back on the hook.
He pulled the wire out of the wall.
He turned toward the door as Enzo entered, breathless.
“Dante,” Enzo said, his face pale.
“Salvatore Falcone just put a five-million-dollar bounty on Gemma’s head.”
“He told every crew in New England that whoever brings her body gets the North End docks.”
Dante walked over to the gun rack beside the steel vault.
May you like
He pulled down a tactical combat rifle.
“Let them come,” Dante said.
