CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
francesca
It had been weeks since the kidnapping, and during that time, Conall’s protectiveness had become suffocating. I understood and even appreciated it, but today was the first time I was allowed to take a shift at the hospital again. My nerves were buzzing with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
Vanello had scaled back his attacks, but Conall wasn’t entirely sure of his intentions. Angelo and Remo were just as cautious, which I understood.
I had fought hard for this moment. Being a nurse wasn’t just a job to me—it was a calling, a core part of my identity that I refused to let go of, no matter how much my life had changed.
Finn, Sean, and Owen were already waiting by the car. I was surprised that Sean was up and about already, but he assured me that he was fine. My protective detail had more than doubled, and I could feel the weight of their presence even before I reached them. Finn gave me a curt nod before opening the car door, and I slid inside with a sigh.
“Excited?”
Sean asked, his tone lighter than usual. He understood what this meant to me.
“Beyond,”
I confessed. “It’s been far too long.”
Finn grunted. “Conall asked me to remind you not to overdo it and that we’ll be watching at all times.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you will.”
If I knew my husband, he would have his eyes glued to my tracker the entire time I was away.
They were truly ridiculous. Moreover, tapping into hallway security as they had done was illegal. I hoped they hadn’t gone as far as tapping into the cameras in the rooms, but I was hesitant to ask. I wanted to keep my job, but I needed to morally consider whether I was comfortable with what I was doing to maintain it, and I wasn’t sure I was.
The drive to the hospital felt longer than usual, and anticipation made every red light into an irritation. When we finally arrived, I adjusted my scrubs and took a deep breath to steady myself. As I walked through the entrance, the familiar scent of antiseptic and coffee anchored me.
At the nurses' station, I was promptly greeted by Sandra, one of my fellow nurses, a no-nonsense woman in her late fifties with a motherly streak hidden beneath layers of sarcasm.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,”
she teased, crossing her arms. “I thought you’d left us for good.”
“Not a chance,”
I said with a smile. “Miss me?”
“Like a hole in the head,”
she retorted, then softened. “It’s good to have you back, kid. I’ve got a light load today—easing you in. Bed six needs antibiotics, bed nine is post-op and waiting for a wound check, and bed eleven… hip surgery.”
The next few hours passed quickly. I checked on my post-operative patient, a young woman who had undergone a morning shoulder surgery and was anxious about being discharged. I reassured her, examined her incisions, and noted that I would follow up as soon as she saw the doctor. A patient in bed six required a new IV line after theirs had infiltrated, and I carefully inserted a fresh one while explaining the procedure to help ease their discomfort. The steady hum of heart monitors, the squeak of rubber soles on linoleum, and the occasional overhead page for doctors filled the air, creating a symphony of controlled chaos that I had greatly missed.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a message from Conall checking in, but instead, an unknown number flashed on the screen.
Unknown: I know you have a break in thirty minutes. Meet me in the cafeteria for coffee.
I frowned. If this was a threat, it was oddly casual. Was this Vanello?
Biting my lip, I contemplated. Conall had been updating me about what was happening with Vanello — the gradual withdrawal. I didn’t want to escalate anything by not showing up if it was him. I sent a quick message to Finn and Sean, keeping it brief and explaining my intention to head to the cafeteria. If I could speak to him, I wanted to seize the opportunity. I felt an irrational need for answers. I didn’t like being in the dark about his motives.
Almost immediately, Finn responded.
Finn: If we see anything we don’t like, we will pull you out.
I smirked at his predictability before sending another text to Conall.
Me: I think Vanello wants to meet for coffee.
The three dots appeared, then stopped, and then reappeared. Finally, his reply came.
Husband: No.
I sighed.
Me: Conall, I want to talk to him.
This time, there was a long pause before answering.
Husband: I don’t like it, but I won’t stop you. Finn and Sean will stay by your side. If you sense something is wrong, just walk away, and your guards will be close.
That was as much as I would get from him, and I was thankful he didn’t outright forbid me. Not that it would have mattered.
Pocketing my phone, I finished my last set of vitals and headed to the cafeteria. Finn and Sean stayed beside me as I entered, their eyes scanning every face. I knew Owen was nearby, probably monitoring the perimeter like a creeper. There, sitting in the back corner, was the man who had turned my world upside down.
Vanello.
He looked exactly as I remembered—sharp suit, salt-and-pepper hair slicked back, and dark eyes that concealed too many secrets. He sat with effortless confidence, like a man who had never once doubted his authority over a room. Even now, in a hospital cafeteria, he emanated a quiet menace that didn’t need to be articulated to be felt.
I squared my shoulders and walked toward him, my heart racing. Finn and Sean lingered nearby, closely watching every movement.
Vanello’s lips curled into a smirk as I sat across from him. “Francesca,”
he drawled, his voice smooth and edged with steel. “You look well.”
I didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I studied him. Something about the way he looked at me was unsettling—not quite fatherly, but something else, something possessive. It felt as if he were assessing a piece of property he had just acquired.
“You requested to meet,”
I finally said, maintaining a neutral tone. “What is it that you want?”
His smirk remained unchanged. “Straight to the point. I like that.”
He leaned forward, fingers encircling his coffee cup. “Well, a relationship with you. That’s what I want. I imagine you have questions about me and my relationship with your mother.”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t. You already told me the truth: that you’re my father. That’s all I needed to know.”
I wasn’t sure if that was information I really wanted to have either. I could have probably gone my entire life without finding that out.
His expression darkened just slightly, revealing a flicker of something dangerous beneath the surface. “Your mother was a complicated woman, Francesca. She wanted power but didn’t understand how to wield it. That was her fault.”
I clenched my fists under the table. “I have no interest in discussing my mother.”
There was no earthly reason that I could think of to discuss Carlotta Santelli with him. She was a topic that I didn’t want to discuss with anyone.
I narrowed my eyes. “What happens next?”
Vanello took a slow sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his cup. “That depends on you.”
I leaned forward. “No, it depends on you. You requested this meeting. You said you wanted a relationship. What does that mean to a man like you?”
His smirk didn’t fade, but a flicker of something glinted in his eyes—calculation, amusement, or perhaps even approval. “It means I’m willing to put our… conflicts aside.”
I scoffed. “Conflicts? You mean the war you started with my husband? The attacks on my brothers? You expect me to believe you’ll just call it off?”
Vanello sighed, shaking his head as though I was being difficult. “You’re thinking too small, Francesca. I don’t waste time on personal vendettas—not when more important matters are at stake.”
I maintained a neutral expression, but inside, my stomach twisted. “So, tell me. What are these ‘bigger things’?”
He tilted his head, studying me as if I were a puzzle he hadn’t quite solved yet. “You married into power, but you were born into it first. Your mother may have been reckless, but she understood that. Whether you like it or not, you’re part of something greater.”
I exhaled sharply. “Cut the cryptic bullshit. If you want something from me, just say it.”
The whole song and dance was wearing thin. I didn’t care about these mafia games. The whole principessa role was never one I wanted.
His lips pressed into a thin line, and for the first time, his gaze hardened. “I want you to acknowledge what you are. Who you are. My daughter.”
A chill ran down my spine. “And what does that mean? You want me to choose a side?”
He leaned back, his expression unreadable. “I want you to understand that this world is not as simple as Conall and your brothers would have you believe. Territory lines shift, and allegiances change. I don’t need a war with them if I have something more valuable.”
I swallowed hard. “And what is that?”
His smile was slow and deliberate. “You.”
The word sat heavy between us.
I forced myself to hold his gaze. “You think you can claim me like some piece of real estate?”
“Not at all.”
He spread his hands in feigned innocence. “I’m offering you a choice. If you want me to walk away from the fight with Conall, if you want peace, it begins with us.”
I could sense the unspoken condition layered in his words: ‘Be my daughter. Accept me, and I’ll give you what you want.’
I clenched my jaw. “And what if I refuse?”
His expression didn’t change, but something in the air around him did—an almost imperceptible shift, like the way a predator decides whether to pounce or wait.
“Then we’ll see where things go,”
he said smoothly. “But I’d prefer not to waste time fighting my own blood.”
I forced myself to breathe evenly, ignoring the cold grip of unease tightening around my ribs. “You want a relationship?”
I asked, my voice steady. “Then prove it. Walk away now. Call off any plans you have against Conall, Angelo, and Remo. Stop any human trafficking. Make your so-called peace first.”
His smirk returned slowly and knowingly. “That’s not how this works, Francesca. But I admire your fire.”
I pushed back my chair and stood up. “Then we have nothing more to discuss.”
His voice followed me as I turned to leave. “Consider it, figlia mia. This offer won’t last forever.”
I didn’t look back.
Finn and Sean were already moving, their eyes fixed on Vanello. I didn’t need to say anything. They had seen enough. However, as I walked out of the cafeteria, my pulse pounded with a feeling I couldn’t shake.