54
Luna
Tears slip silently down my temples and soak into my hair as I lie motionless on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling.
An IV drips steadily into my arm, the other wrapped tight in white gauze. Sophie’s hand is warm in mine, anchoring me as the world spins.
She’s been a constant presence since I woke up, her thumb tracing circles on my hand, while her other hand quietly wipes away her own tears when she thinks I’m not looking.
“Your father’s here,” she says softly, her voice catching. “He’s waiting with Phoenix, Nico, Dante . . . and half the Druids too, I think.”
“Papa?” The word comes out raw, unfamiliar.
“Nico had to tell him.” Sophie’s lips form the word “Capo” silently, and my stomach lurches. It’s real. It might feel like a lifetime ago that Nico pressed that onyx ring into my palm, but he obviously wasn’t bluffing.
I s wallow the knot of panic and focus on something else. “How long . . . ?” The words scrape past my dry lips.
Sophie’s eyes flick to the clock. “Four hours in surgery.”
“I need to be there—”
“Absolutely not.” Sophie’s grip becomes iron as a nurse enters.
Rachel, according to her badge, moves with practiced efficiency, her calm a stark contrast to the chaos in my head. She speaks in that careful tone reserved for breaking patients.
“Your sister’s right—you need to stay in bed. The knife nicked an artery. Between blood loss and shock . . .your body needs time to stabilize.”
“But, I can’t stay here,” I choke out. “I need to be near him. Please.”
Her expression softens. “Right now, the best thing you can do is let us take care of you. Another hour on fluids, and then maybe we can talk about getting you to the surgical floor.”
The nurse finishes her check and leaves, her shoes squeaking softly against the floor. Sophie resumes tracing circles on my palm, but it does little to calm the storm inside me.
Maybe if I’d listened when he asked me to leave the kitchen. Maybe Scar would’ve snapped anyway, but maybe Cade wouldn’t have been caught off guard.
A sob catches in my throat. Sophie brushes the hair from my forehead in a soothing gesture. “Now, now. You heard your nurse. One more hour on the fluids, the we’ll go join the rest. But you need to take it easy. You’ve been through so much trauma.”
Trauma.
This morning I woke up to an emerald ring. Now Cade’s blood is still crusted under my fingernails, and Saint is . . .
“Where is Saint?”
Sop hie sighs. “Nico’s people have him. They’re . . . evaluating him.” Her voice gentles. “You’ve asked this before, honey.”
I blink. Have I? Everything’s fuzzy except the fear. “And how is Nico even here?”
“You called him, remember?”.
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t. I only punched in a code.”
Sophie sighs. “Yes, the fancy emergency response Nico has installed into everyone’s phones. It dispatched the nearest team to you. But Nico wouldn’t have known what was happening if you hadn’t called..”
“Sophie.” I shake the cobwebs from my head. “I was told I fainted.”
“Well, you rang Nico before you passed out, Luna. I was in the room when Nico took the call. I heard you.”
I’m too tired to argue, but I know that I did not call Nico. I wouldn’t even know how to find his number on Cade’s phone. And while I’m eternally grateful for that emergency response, it still makes no sense.
“But Cade hates Nico. He’d never let Nico install anything on his phone.”
Sophie’s laugh is soft but genuine. “Oh, sweetie. Those three—Cade, Nico, Dante—they’re the most complicated brothers I’ve ever seen. They spend half their time plotting each other’s murders and the other half saving each other’s asses.” Her smile turns wistful. “I stopped trying to understand it years ago.”
“And Saint . . . ?” The question slips out again before I can stop it.
This time Sophie just squeezes my hand, understanding in her eyes. Because the real question—the only one that matters—remains unanswered .
Will Cade survive?
The next hour crawls by like light years.
When they finally unhook the IV, my legs feel like water. Sophie, likely already exhausted from my incessant questioning seems relieved I’m finally being allowed out of bed.
The doors to the surgical floor open to a wave of hushed voices and restless energy. I’m overwhelmed by the sheer number of people waiting.
Phoenix and his bikers are huddled close, their leather cutting a stark contrast to the sterile hospital walls. Nico stands near the window, deep in conversation with his mirror image—Dante, I assume—who is cradling a pregnant redhead against his chest.
Their presence hits me harder than expected. I know how Cade speaks of the Vitellis, yet here they are, wearing their concern like armor.
Then I see him—my father, standing apart in his pristine pinstripe suit, and my heart catches.
“Papa?”
He turns, stern features melting into a dimpled smile that brings tears to my eyes. I can’t remember the last time he looked at me like this. The familiar scent of cigars wraps around me as he pulls me close.
“Stellina,” he whispers into my hair. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t believe you, but you were right about everything. You did everything right, and I should have listened.”
For one perfect moment, I let myself believe that he’s here for me—just me—his daughter. Not the family name, not our legacy, but his child waiting to know if the man she loves will survive.
“ He saved me, Papa,” I say, pulling back to search his face. “Cade saved me that night.”
“I know.” His eyes flick up to something behind me, then quickly return to me. “You’ve handled everything . . . perfectly.”
More words tumble out before I can stop them. “Cade’s wonderful, Papa. I love him.”
His smile vanishes. My father’s body goes rigid, and I catch his quick glance at my left hand and the slight narrowing of his eyes when he spots the engagement ring.
Has something happened to Cade? I scan the room for reassurance but only see Phoenix’s solemn nod and Dante’s bland look.
I turn back to see Papa’s face already darkened with rage, his mouth pressed into a hard line.
Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that in the first five seconds of our reunion. When has Papa ever approved of my choices? And Cade did threaten to kill him.
But then again, Papa was waiting here—for Cade. He didn’t come downstairs to the wards to see me.
Papa opens his mouth, and I brace myself for his cutting words. But then, his gaze shifts upward, and whatever he sees there makes him pale.
I follow his look to find Nico watching, his expression arctic.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re here, Papa.” I shoot him a weak smile, trying to diffuse the mounting tension. “And you got here so fast too.” Although I suppose, without a Clemenza to send in his place anymore, he’d have to pull his own weight in the father department.
“Stellina, you’re my daughter, of course—”
“You’re his Capo, Luna,” Nico corrects sharply. “In the absence of you or Quinn, it is he who commands—although not without securing your ring first.”
The truth settles over me like winter frost. Papa’s eyes drop to my hands again, and now I understand what he’s searching for. Even now, with his daughter’s world hanging by a thread, his first thought is of power.
I feel my heart break and reform, stronger this time. Cade was right—there’s nothing wrong with loving someone who doesn’t deserve it.
“Well, Papa,” I manage a smile, probably my first real one in hours. “You’re nothing if not consistent.”
I step into his arms one last time, breathe in that familiar cigar scent, then turn away. Let him stand there in the middle of the room, watching as I choose my new family. Some wounds can’t be healed, but they can make you stronger.