Mariella grew up in the foster care system, abused every day until she found solace in the most unexpected form; Mateo, the son of an Italian mob leader.
Fate brought the two together, but when it tears them apart, how is she supposed to cope? Espe...
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Mariella's POV
Mateo reaches out not even a whole minute later, opening the door that holds us in the car. His arms wrap tightly around my waist, and it kind of hurts but I don't say anything. My ribs ache, and the pressure on them is kind of harsh, but not horrible. My legs are barely wrapped around him, and they just kind of fall into place. Occasionally my feet brush against his thighs, and he groans before readjusting me.
"Sweetheart, I love you but I need you to move your legs." He mumbles under his breath as we reach the doors of the private hospital.
"Sorry."
The hospital that he brought us to is really only used by millionaires, so basically just an assortment of rich people. He has a floor at the top. A whole floor.
It's like a box of chocolates for rich people. Literally. Hospital shaped box, people shaped sweets.
All doctors are sworn to secrecy, and they're trained not to ask unimportant questions. That means there's no risk of anyone finding out about my gunshot, or any other wounds and telling the police. Because well, they'd be dead. It's kind of extreme I guess, but it's necessary. Even though the police answer to the mob for a lot of things and they basically control the city, it's better not to take risks when things can be avoided.
"Bambina, you're going to be in a lot of pain soon. You've still got adrenaline rushing through you, so I need to warn you, ok? Gunshots are serious, and that's going to be the worst part of healing."
"Ok." I keep my answer simple and short. I'd really rather not have to go through more pain, but I'm glad I'm at least not feeling like death, yet.
He walks into the elevator, and we start moving up. The driver from before stands in the corner of the metal box, stiff as a nail. He might as well be one of the elevator walls. I internally roll my eyes.
Mafia men are so serious.
I start to feel lightheaded, and it feels like I've been losing blood for hours. It's really only been like 15 minutes since Mateo got into that room.
I guess being in extreme pain makes time slow down.
"Teooo..." I drag out drowsily and he turns to me with frantic eyes, "I'm really tireddd."
Once the elevator door opens he flies out, which practically gives me whiplash. He was walking calmly before, totally mature, and now he's dashing around like a mad man.
We get to an operating room, where a surgeon is already waiting, along with a few other people dressed in full scrubs.
Immediately orders start flying around the room.
"Lay her down." Someone says.
I'm gently set down and they immediately place a mask over my face. More incoherent words surround me, as I'm directed to count down from ten.
