She’s repeatedly chanting, “Our baby, Ivan. Help our baby.”
EIGHT
PICK UP THE PIECES
Everything around me slows as Madeline’s screams echo inside my head. Carlos bursts through the door, looking around wildly, and it’s Cary who knocks him to the side as he rushes to Ivan and Madeline, dropping to his knees.
“Give me your shirt,” he demands, yelling over Madeline’s wails and looking to Ivan. “We have to apply pressure to the wound!”
Matteo appears in the doorway, practically dragging a slumped Alessio.
“Incoming!” Angelo shouts in my ear before an explosion rocks the building. The booming sound drowns out everything else, until his voice rings through the headset again. “All clear. Two SUVs down.”
“Get the helicopter here immediately!” I bark, everything speeding up again as I take in the dire situation around me. “Carlos, get one of those bay doors open! Cary, prepare Madeline to be moved.”
I stride across the room and stick two fingers to Alessio’s throat. Nothing. “He’s fucking dead. Drop him and go help Carlos.”
Whipping out my cell, I dial Lorenzo. “Madeline’s hurt!” I bark, urgency guiding my movements. “I need somewhere to transport her!”
“I was prepared for this,” Lorenzo says evenly. “Stay calm, and I’ll give you the coordinates.”
“It’s bad, Lorenzo.”
“Listen to me, son. I have a surgeon on standby who has a top-notch, private OR in his basement,” he replies, slow and steady, reassuring. “He thrives on bad situations, so she’ll be in the best hands imaginable.”
“How far away?” I ask, his calmness seeping into me through the phone.
“Twenty-two miles,” he replies. “How are we transporting her?”
“Helicopter.”
“That’s less than ten minutes,” he says, and I can hear his fingers flying over a keyboard. “I’m contacting him now. What type of injury do we have?”
“It’s a deep stab wound to her abdomen,” I say, swallowing thickly. “She’s pregnant.”
There’s a pause in the clicks, but he hurriedly recovers, and the taps come even faster. “Time is of the essence,” Lorenzo replies, some of his earlier calm fading. “Get her on that helicopter.”
“Send Angelo the coordinates,” I say, responding to his urgent tone. “I’ll call you once they’re in the air. It’s a bloodbath down here.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
The helicopter thunders overhead, and I pocket my phone as I move to Ivan’s side. He’s talking quietly to Madeline as he frantically brushes his hand along her tousled hair. She’s quiet beneath him, her eyes opening and closing slowly. She’s fading, and it’s apparent by her slow breaths and pale skin.
Cary’s keeping pressure on the wound, but the look on his face is grave. “It’s bad, Boss.”
I nod once. The monster’s retreated entirely, but it’s for the best. Ivan needs his brother right now, and I recognize that as he shudders when my arm falls around his shoulder. “We’re ready to transport her,” I say softly, and as he starts shaking his head, I raise my voice. “Yes! Lorenzo has already made arrangements, and the helicopter will get her there in less than ten minutes.”
Tears stream down his cheeks, and his blue eyes are unnaturally bright as he turns to me. “How did he know, Dante?”
My brows furrow as I try to decipher his question. “Know?”
“The baby!” he yells, losing his composure. “We didn’t tell anyone. You didn’t even know. How did William know?!”
“It was me,” Madeline croaks, gaining our full attention. Her voice is strained, and she tries to lift her hand to his cheek, but she’s too weak. “I thought …” She pauses and licks her dry, cracked lips. “I thought it might save me.” She doubles over in a coughing fit, and Ivan flies into a panic.
I point to Madeline, giving Matteo and Carlos a meaningful look. She has to be moved. As they approach, I forcefully pull my brother away. He fights at first, but I steadily murmur soothing words in his ear, taking care to talk him through every move the men are making and how it’s necessary to save her life. Cary keeps a constant pace beside them, doing everything he can to administer the help she needs until we get her to the doctor. As soon as she’s laid inside the helicopter, I let Ivan go, and he trips inside, crawling to her.
“Go with them, Cary,” I yell over the whir of the blades, grabbing his shoulder and staring into his eyes. “Lorenzo set this up, and I trust him implicitly, but if anything looks off, you shoot first and ask questions later. Got me?”
“Yes, Boss.” He nods, a determined look in his eyes. “I’ll protect them with my life.”
I clap his shoulder and shove him toward the door, stepping back as the blades pick up speed. After watching them lift into the air, I look around outside for the first time since before we went in. It’s fucking chaos, with dead bodies sitting in cars and charred parts lying haphazardly around two SUV hulls that have been burned to the bare metal. The open bay door reveals dead bodies scattered inside the building, and I begin to wonder if there’s anyone left to run Miami.
“What’s next?” Angelo asks, sidling up to me.
“We get this mess cleaned up and try to find someone to pick up the pieces,” I answer, noticing my remaining men are all standing around me. One thing in particular catches my attention, though. “Have you been hit?” I step over and prod a large stain on Matteo’s shoulder.
He hisses as he snatches away. “It’s no big deal.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I snap, pissed he didn’t tell me when the helicopter was still here. “Open your fucking shirt.”
He shakes his head but does as I say. “Just a flesh wound, Boss.”
I yank the shirt off his shoulder, eliciting a
