Chapter 13
ADRIANA
My father looks so damn small in this bed.
That's the thing no one tells you about hospitals.
They shrink people. Francesco DiMicheli, the man who commanded rooms just by walking into them, who made grown men nervous with a single look…
he's just a body now. A body connected to tubes and wires and machines working to keep him alive and breathing.
I've been sitting at his bedside for an hour now, holding his hand and talking to him like he can hear me. I’ve never prayed as much as I have since the attack, and right now, all I want is for just one of those prayers to be answered.
Please, Dad. Just squeeze my hand, open your eyes, and let me know you’re here.
But nothing happens. No cue, no sign, no nothing. Just the beeping of monitors and machines.
Still, I hold out hope that maybe he can hear me. The doctors say it's entirely possible, that coma patients sometimes remember voices and conversations they heard while unconscious. So I talk.
“The meeting with the capos went well,” I say.
“Better than expected. At least, that’s what Lochlan said.
” A familiar fluttering in my belly happens at the second I mention his name, like I’ve just awoken a swarm of butterflies.
I pause for a second. “He’s… different than I thought he’d be.
I went into this expecting the worst, especially because of who his father is.
But Lochlan isn’t like him. At least from what I’ve seen of him so far.
And he’s supportive. I didn’t expect that.
I figured he’d be power hungry and use this as a way to take over our interests.
But he just stands by my side. He doesn’t try to control me. He’s just… there. In case I need him.”
I stroke the top of Dad’s hand. “And Riccardo… my God, Dad. I know you promised Zio Tony that you’d take care of him, but he is such a pompous ass.
He tried to challenge me at the meeting.
He accused me of being incapable of the role, tore me down in front of everyone.
As if he could command one iota of respect from any of those men.
” I allow a smile to tug at my lips. “He actually got up at one point and it looked like he was going to walk over to me. And Lochlan positioned himself right next to me, almost as a threat to Riccardo. And guess what? It worked. Riccardo didn’t come any closer.
Vincenzo was there. He's been so good, so helpful. Thank goodness for him. He’s been a rock through all of this. "
I stare down at my dad, then lean over to brush his hair away from his ear.
“I wish you could tell me I'm doing this right.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “I wish you could tell me something. Anything.”
A few minutes pass before I speak again, the lump in my throat growing as reality settles around me.
“You need to wake up,” I say. “I can hold things together for a while, but this is your world, not mine.
I'm just... borrowing it. Trying not to break anything until you can take it back. But you have to take it back.”
I stare at the ventilator pumping, the soft hiss in rhythm with the beeping of his monitors.
I lean forward and press my forehead to our clasped hands. My eyes float closed, tears stinging my eyelids.
“Please, Papa. Please wake up.”
Lochlan is in the ICU waiting room when I finally leave Dad’s room.
He sits in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he stares at his phone, looking completely out of place among the anxious families and exhausted nurses. When he sees me, he jumps right up.
“How is he?”
“The same.” I rub my eyes. “Stable is what they keep saying. Like that's supposed to be comforting.”
“It means he's fighting. That should be comforting.”
“No, it just means the machines are working.” I take in a sharp breath and press a hand to my forehead. “Sorry. I didn't mean to—"
He squeezes my shoulder, and my skin tingles from the warmth of his touch. “You don't have to apologize. Not for this.”
I look up at him, the warmth and comfort in his gaze settling me. There's understanding there, like he gets what I’m going through. Then I remember… he lost his Mom. He does get it. And maybe being here for him is hard, but he’s still with me, supporting me, just like he promised.
But before I can respond, Vincenzo comes down the hallway. He's walking fast, phone in hand, brow furrowed. I didn’t realize he was coming here today.
My stomach drops. Oh my God… unless—
“What happened?” I ask before he even reaches us.
“We have a situation.” He glances at Lochlan, then back at me. “The Kozlovs made a move on Castellano Shipping this morning.”
Castellano Shipping is one of our protected businesses.
They've been paying the DiMicheli family for decades in exchange for protection and the freedom to operate without interference.
Dominic Castellano's father made that deal with my grandfather.
It's the foundation of how this world works — you pay, you're protected.
You're protected, you're loyal. Break that chain, and everything falls apart. And everyone is at risk.
“What did they do?” I ask, pulling him into a corner. Lochlan stands close but doesn’t invade our private conversation.
Vincenzo sighs and looks around in a panic as if he expects that there are Kozlov spies lurking around the waiting room, ready to pounce.
“Two of their men showed up at the port at six this morning.
They intercepted one of Dominic's shipments, a container of electronics from Taiwan. They took it, Adriana. Just loaded it onto their own truck and drove away.” Vincenzo's jaw tightens.
“Then they visited Dominic at his office. Told him that the DiMicheli family can't protect him anymore. That Dominic’s father made a deal with the old boss, but the old boss is dying in a hospital bed. They offered him new terms — he pays the Kozlovs instead of us, twenty percent higher than what he's been paying. If he refuses...” Vincenzo’s voice trails off.
I sigh. “If he refuses, they’ll keep taking his shipments. Bleed him dry until he has no choice but to work with them.”
“Exactly.” Vincenzo leans closer. “This isn't just about Castellano, though.
Every business under our protection is watching for our next move.
If we don't respond, if we let the Russians steal from our people without consequences, then they'll all start wondering if they should switch sides before they're the next victims.”
My eyes slide to where Lochlan stands. He latches onto my gaze and gives me a nod and a half-smile as if to say, “You know what to do. Time to kick some ass.”
And it empowers me, flooding me with resolve. Because fuck those Russians. One, for taking Dad from us, and two, for even thinking they can compromise our organization. They don’t know who they’re dealing with. But I’m about to make the introductions. “Where's Dominic now?” I ask.
“At his office. Scared out of his mind. He called me twenty minutes ago. He didn't know what to do.” Vincenzo runs a hand through his hair. “I came straight here when I found out from your mom you were here. We need to respond, but I wanted to hear your thoughts first.”
My thoughts. Because I'm in charge now. Because every decision I make either solidifies my position or destroys it.
“What would my father do?”
Vincenzo hesitates. “He'd send men. Make it clear that Castellano is under DiMicheli protection. The Russians understand force.”
“Wouldn’t that kind of move escalate things?”
“Possibly. But backing down would be worse. They'd see it as weakness. And they will crush any hint of it.”
I think about the capos yesterday. The way they looked at me. The way Riccardo's lip curled when he talked about PowerPoint presentations and MBAs, like he thought he was superior to me because he’s an egotistical criminal and I’m not.
They're all waiting for me to fail. To prove them right.
“Give me a minute,” I say.
I step away from Vincenzo and move toward the windows at the end of the hallway. Lochlan follows, keeping a respectful distance, giving me space to think and feel my way around this shitshow of a situation.
“You don't have to hover,” I say without turning around.
“I'm not hovering. I'm just… present.”
“There's a difference?”
“Yeah. A subtle one.”
I turn, my arms folded across my chest. “The Russians are testing me,” I say, thinking out loud. “They know Dad is incapacitated. They know I'm new. They're poking the bear to see what happens.”
“Makes sense.”
I pace in front of the windows. “If I send men, it turns into a pissing contest. Everyone keeps pushing, people get hurt, and we're in a war nobody wants.” I stare out at the parking lot below. “But if I don't respond, they’ll think I'm weak. And then they push harder to break me.”
“Sounds like you need a third option.”
“Yes.” I nod. “I need to change the game.”
He watches me with that steady, penetrating gaze, waiting for what comes next.
He doesn’t jump in with his own solutions or take control of the situation.
He just stands there, ready to back me up, no matter what direction I decide to go.
He knows who and what I am, and has complete trust that I’ll make the right call.
And even though I question myself a lot more these days, he never has. Not once.
I step slowly toward him. “Dominic Castellano,” I say. “I know him. I consulted for his company five years ago and helped them restructure their shipping routes to avoid congestion fees. Saved them about two million annually.”
Lochlan nods. “So he owes you, yeah?”
“Well, he likes me. That's different.” I pull out my phone. “But way more useful.”
I dial Dominic’s number, and he picks up on the first ring. “Dominic, this is Adriana… Colonna. I know you’re aware that I’ve taken over all DiMicheli business for my father.”