38. VIN
VIN
Dr. Rossi pulls the needle in and out of my side, sewing up the cuts that wraps around to my back. I don’t make a sound.
I’m on my stomach on a sterile bed on the estate in a med room separate from my house. Sophie sits quietly by the bed, holding my hand. I can’t take my eyes off her, even when Dr. Rossi’s needle hits a nerve.
Zero bedside manner, this fucking guy, which is how I prefer it. He says nothing when I grip the blankets, my knuckles white. He threads and pulls and I fucking deal with it until he’s done.
There were 17 pieces of metal in my back and left shoulder. Rossi has removed 11 of them. The other six are deeper and require more time and patience than I have. My left ear is still ringing. My ribs feel like someone drove a truck over them.
But fuck those Irish fucks. I’m fucking alive. And soon they won’t be.
The door bursts open and Matti appears in the doorway, Tommy right behind him.
They both stop when they see Rossi’s instruments laid out on a cloth, the small tray of metal he’s already removed from my body.
Matti’s grimaces. Tommy’s expression doesn’t change, but he spins the ring on his left hand.
“Keep it brief,” Sophie says, squeezing my hand as she rises from her seat.
Matti steps to the side as she moves to the door. My energy is draining fast, but I half smile hearing the authority in my queen’s voice. This is her castle, and she knows it.
“He needs rest,” she says to Matti and Tommy. “Vincenzo, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
“Okay, princess.”
When she’s gone, Matti and Tommy come to stand by the bed.
“This doesn’t look good,” Matti says.
“Looks worse than it is.”
“How bad is it?” Tommy asks Rossi.
Rossi doesn’t look up. “He’ll live.” Rossi pulls the needle through and I breathe slowly out through my nose. “He needs 48 hours of rest and no exertion.”
Tommy chuckles as he pulls a chair from the corner of the room and sits down. “Good luck.”
Matti crosses his arms over his chest. “Vin.”
“Tell me,” I say.
He tells me.
They didn’t just bomb Aurelio’s funeral. They took out three buildings in the city. Two safe houses on the east side were both obliterated. Both were empty when the devices went off, which means whoever did it either had bad intel on our movements or didn’t care whether anyone was inside.
The Edge took damage to the parking structure above it; the underground level held, which is why we built it underground.
Dragovari Tower, Matti’s building, was hit too, but its blast protections functioned exactly as designed. Heavy cleaning, structural assessment, and it’ll be back online within the week.
I listen to all of it blandly. Rossi pulls another fragment free and sets it on the tray.
“Anyone killed?” I ask.
“Two of ours from the estate perimeter. Three wounded, none critical.” Matti’s voice is flat and controlled. “Fourteen of the funeral guests are in the hospital. Twelve are in critical condition; two are dead, both politicians.”
“It would have been worse if the pillars we put in hadn’t buffered part of the blast,” Tommy says.
“Sophie’s parents?”
“We got them back home and posted guards around their house.”
“Good.”
Rossi keeps digging into me and dropping little shards of metal on the tray with a clink.
“It was the Irish, wasn’t it,” I say.
Matti and Tommy exchange a look.
“Pretty sure, yeah,” Matti says.
I stare at the wall across from me, at a hairline crack in the plaster that has been there since I was a kid.
“Well,” I say, “it wasn’t fucking Aurelio.”
“The war has started,” Matti says.
“Either Ashlyn told them that you ended the engagement,” Tommy adds. “Or they inferred it from watching you with Sophie. And they didn’t love that information.”
Matti shakes his head. “There wouldn’t have been enough time to mobilize those devices between Sophie’s arrival and when the blasts took place. They prepared for this in advance.”
I grip the blanket as Rossi digs particularly deep into the back of my shoulder and think back to seeing Ashlyn in the receiving line.
I didn’t tell them. Please don’t say anything.
Was she working with her brothers against me? Trying to put me at ease to make the hit easier? Fuck. I was distracted by Sophie. But now that I’ve got Sophie home with me where she belongs, she won’t be a distraction anymore.
“Fucking Ashlyn,” I say,
“She told you she hadn’t said anything.” Tommy’s not disagreeing, just being a good consigliere.
“Either her people either already knew, or she lied.” I wince as Rossi continues his work.
Tommy is quiet for a moment. “Why would she want you dead?”
“She didn’t want to marry me. Getting rid of me means that’s no longer an issue. And if her family knew the engagement was off, she may have needed to do something to get back in their good graces.”
“There’s a difference between not wanting to marry someone and wanting them blown up at their father’s funeral,” Matti points out.
I shrug one shoulder, and Rossi groans. “Find her. Don’t touch her. Just find Ashlyn and keep eyes on her. Watch where she goes, who she talks to, what she does.”
Matti nods.
“Pull the security footage from the morning,” I say. “All of it. The dock, the perimeter, the pavilion.”
“Already done,” Tommy says.
I look at Matti. “Sophie will be staying here, but just in case, I need a team on her, her own detail at all times. People she knows, if possible, so she doesn’t feel like a prisoner.”
Matti’s expression shifts slightly. “She’s staying? Does she want to stay?”
“She’s staying.”
He nods once and makes a note.
“And sweep the property,” I say. “The kitchen, the grounds. I want all hemlock removed. Every plant, every dried bundle, every cutting.” I pause, thinking. ”Check Lucia’s quarters as well.”
Both of them look at me.
“What?” Matti says.
“You heard me. And don’t say anything to Lucia. Just do it quietly and report back to me.”
Tommy is looking at me quizzically, when something occurs to me.
“The funeral,” I say.
Matti blinks. “What about it?”
“We never did it.” I look at him. “The whole point of today was to bury my father, and officially become boss. The bomb prevented that from happening, and Aurelio’s casket is still fucking above ground.”
Tommy closes his eyes briefly.
“Fuck. We’re going to have to plan it again,” he says.
I groan as Rossi removes another fragment, more irritated by the fact that I can’t get my father out of my life for good than the surgery.
“He has been dead for over a year,” I finally say. “I’m finally ready to do the damn funeral, and then this. I need him buried and out of my life.”
“He was always a fucking asshole,” Matti says.
“Yes, he was,” Tommy agrees. “We’ll get it done, Vin. Might be a little smaller this time, but we’re going to get it done.”
I close my eyes and let Rossi finish his work.