26. Leon
26
LEON
I wake with a sharp inhale, like I’ve been ripped out of a nightmare and hurled into a world of pain.
The ache in my chest is instant and excruciating like someone’s sitting on my ribs, pressing down with unbearable weight. My head spins as I blink up at the sterile white ceiling, the smell of antiseptic flooding my nose.
It takes me a second to piece it all together—where I am, why my body feels like it’s been smashed to pieces. But then it comes rushing back in a wave of red-hot fury and agonizing dread.
Max.
The gunshot.
Mia.
My pulse spikes, echoed by a nearby heart monitor.
I need to move, to find her, to protect her. But when I try to sit up, pain rips through me like a lightning bolt, forcing me back down with a groan.
“Easy there, Leon,” Isabella’s voice cuts through the panic, hoarse but familiar.
I turn my head, finding her sitting in a chair by the bed. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days, dressed in a hoodie that definitely doesn’t belong to her.
“Where’s Mia?”
My sister’s eyes scan my face, my body—lingering on my chest—before she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose in a gesture that’s so reminiscent of Teo I almost do a double-take.
“Safe,” Isabella says quickly, firmly. “She wasn’t hurt in the attack.”
I stare at her hunched form momentarily as I roll her words through my mind. Trying to decide if it’s enough to offer me some relief.
It’s not
“Where is she?” I try again.
Isabella hesitates. It’s a small moment, one that I doubt anyone else would notice unless they’d known her from birth.
But before she can answer, the door opens, and a doctor walks in—a middle-aged man with sharp eyes,
“You’re awake,” he says, glancing at a clipboard before looking at me. “That’s a good start.”
“What happened?” I growl, frustration bubbling over.
“You were incredibly lucky,” the doctor says, setting the clipboard down.
“The bullet hit your chest, but it struck a rib at an angle, deflecting it away from your heart and major arteries. It punctured a lung, but we were able to stabilize you quickly enough to prevent permanent damage. You underwent surgery to repair the lung and stop the bleeding.”
I exhale sharply, trying to process his words. The memory of the shot, the staggering blow to the chest, flashes through my mind.
I clench my fists to ward off the memory. “How long have I been out?”
“Three days,” Isabella says quietly. “We’ve been taking shifts watching over you.”
“Three days,” I mutter, the weight of it settling on my bruising chest. “And Mia?”
“She’s alive,” Isabella says, starting to sound irritated. “I told you this.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “No, you said she was safe.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
The doctor clears his throat. “You need to rest, Mr. Moretti. Your body’s been through a major trauma, and pushing yourself too soon could cause complications. The lung will take weeks to fully heal.”
I barely hear him, too busy staring down my sister. “Isabella.”
She doesn’t look at me; her chin points up stubbornly. “You almost died, Leon. We thought…I thought…”
“Issy. Look at me.”
When she does, there are tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Leon.”
My mind is already racing, calculating, planning. Already jumping to every worst possible conclusion before she has a chance to draw another breath and speak out the last words I want to hear.
“They took her. The Cartel took her.”
For a moment, I let the words wash over me, feeling an eerie kind of calm settle into my bones. Then, the world narrows to a singular focus: Mia.
I shove the blanket off me and swing my legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the fire burning in my chest. My breath hitches, but I grit my teeth against the pain. Every second wasted here is a second Mia is at their mercy.
“Sir, please don’t—” the doctor tries.
“Leon, stop!” Isabella begs.
“She’s out there, Isabella. I’m not going to sit here and do nothing,” I roar as the room tilts violently, my knees buckling under me.
Before I can hit the ground, the door slams open, and Dante storms in, followed by Teo. Dante’s face is tight with worry as he slides himself under my arm and hoists me back up.
But Teo’s expression is stone cold, his eyes seemingly entirely black as they lock on me like a predator about to pounce.
“Sit down,” Teo orders, his voice like a whip.
“I’m not staying here.” I shrug away from Dante, gripping the edge of the bed to steady myself. “Mia needs me.”
“She needs you alive, Leon,” Teo retorts, crossing the room in three long strides.
He grabs my arm and shoves me back onto the bed with more force than necessary. There’s no mistaking the ruthless don in his dominance, and I instinctively snarl and push back. But his hands are too firm, his jaw tight as he holds me there.
“You’re no good to her dead. You are no good to me dead. We need everyone right now, and you will NOT lose your head over this.”
I narrow my eyes at him, ready to rip out his damn throat if I need to.
“Enough!” she snaps, her voice slicing through the tension. “Leon, calm the fuck down. You’re acting deranged. This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“You lied to me.”
“I lie to you all the time, dingus,” Issy groans. “Snap out of it. We need you firing on all cylinders here, not throwing yourself on a suicide mission trying to climb a flight of stairs, all right?”
No one speaks to me like Issy. No one has ever had the death wish, honestly. Yet it’s her words that temper the near-endless pit of rage that has consumed me since the moment I found out Mia was missing.
Sensing the shift in mood, Dante takes a bold step closer. “Leon, listen. You need to know what happened at the casino.”
I close my eyes, grit my teeth, and exhale. “Tell me.”
Everyone around me visibly relaxes. The doctor coughs awkwardly and makes his escape. Dante starts speaking once the door is firmly closed.
“It was chaos after Max shot you. He wasn’t working alone. The Cartel had servers planted as operatives. They were waiting for his signal. As soon as you hit the ground, they went straight for her.”
He steps closer, as if he can block my escape if I try again to race out of the room.
“Mia fought like hell,” Dante continues, his voice softening. “She was holding her own until they overwhelmed her. I saw them dragging her out just as reinforcements arrived. By the time we pushed the Cartel back, they were gone. Max included.”
“Max…” I growl, the betrayal cutting deeper than the bullet ever could.
“We tracked him all the way back to a compound in Long Island. That’s where all of Rubio’s forces seem to be regrouping,” Teo says. “But we have other problems, Leon.”
I fix my gaze on him, already dreading his next words. “Spit it out.”
“Max didn’t just betray us by aligning with the Cartel,” Teo begins, his voice grim. “He’s been feeding us lies for months, severely inflating the damage we’ve done to Amos Rubio’s network. The Cartel isn’t as weak as we thought.”
I let his words sink in, a slow burn of rage building in my chest. “How badly did he twist it?”
“Badly,” Teo says bluntly. “All those supply lines Dante thought we’d taken out? Most are still running. The smuggling routes we thought were torched? Fully operational.”
Dante runs a hand down his face, the realization hitting him just as hard. “That son of a bitch.”
“And it gets worse,” Teo cuts in, his voice tightening. “The attack at the casino was just the beginning. Max coordinated simultaneous strikes on both of our families—the Guild and the Prince’s Hand.”
I’m going to murder that traitorous bastard with my bare hands.
“My warehouses were hit last night, and my men are still fighting to take them back. Four of your casinos in Manhattan were robbed mercilessly. We’ve both been crippled.”
I grip the edge of the bed, my knuckles whitening.
“Rubio’s playing this perfectly,” I mutter. “And I let his crown jester into my fucking court.”
“No one is blaming you, Leon.” Isabella’s voice is softer than the others, but it doesn’t take the sting away.
Teo leans back, his eyes sharp and calculating. “But we need to be smart about this right now. We regroup, dig in, focus on recovery?—”
“No.”
His dark eyes flash with surprise.
“We don’t dig in. We don’t wait.” I sit up straighter, ignoring the stabbing pain in my chest. “We hit Amos Rubio where it hurts. Now. Before he can consolidate his gains.”
“You’re serious,” Dante says, arching a brow.
“Dead serious,” I snap. “Rubio thinks he’s crippled us, which means he’s overconfident. He’ll be celebrating his victory, holed up in that mansion of his. If we wait, he’ll regroup and come for us again, this time with everything he’s got.”
Teo shakes his head. “We’re spread thin, Leon. We’ve got manpower issues, supply issues. And let’s not forget you just got shot.”
I glare at him. “Rubio took my wife. I’m not giving him time to gloat.”
“You’re thinking emotionally,” Teo counters, his voice low and steady. “This isn’t just about Mia. It’s about the survival of the entire Italian empire in New York. You can’t throw what’s left of us at him without a plan.”
“You think I don’t have a plan? I’ve been playing chess with Amos Rubio for months. I know his weaknesses.”
Teo exchanges a glance with Dante, then sighs. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”
“We go straight for Rubio’s compound,” I say. “The heart of his operation. We catch him off guard, make him bleed, and make it clear that we’re still standing.”
“It’s risky,” Dante says, rubbing his jaw.
“It’s necessary,” I reply. “Gather what we have left. I’ll lead the attack myself.”
“No, you won’t,” Teo says flatly. “You’re not leaving this bed until you’re cleared to stand without toppling over. If you insist on moving forward with this, fine. But Dante and I are running point.”
I want to argue, but I know he’s not backing down. Not here, not now. Hell, my own body is screaming at me to stay down, to heal.
But Isabella isn’t the only one who knows how to lie.
“Fine. But you take my plan at my word,” I say, leaning back with a grim smile. “You’d better burn that mansion to the ground.”
Dante nods, his eyes cold. “It’ll be ashes by sunrise.”