Chapter 12 - The Crimson Dawn
The private medical wing of the Moretti fortress smelled of antiseptic and ozone.
For seven agonizing hours, the red surgical light above the steel doors remained illuminated. I hadn't washed the blood from my skin. I hadn't changed out of the torn emerald gown. I sat on a bench in the hallway, clutching Nico’s heavy platinum ring—the one the doctors had removed from his finger before cutting his clothes away.
Marco walked up to me, holding a cup of steaming black coffee. He offered it to me with both hands, bowing his head in genuine deference.
"Drink, Miss Bennett," Marco said softly. "You need your strength."
"Tell me about Salvatore," I said, ignoring the coffee. My voice was eerily calm, stripped of all warmth.
Marco hesitated, surprised by my icy resolve. "Salvatore barricaded himself inside his downtown estate. He thinks his remaining private army can hold us off until the sunrise, when the city police commissioners—whom he owns—can intervene and take control of Nico's assets."
"He thinks Nico is already dead," I stated.
"Yes," Marco admitted grimly. "And if Nico doesn't wake up by dawn, the other syndicate families will side with Salvatore. They only respect strength."
The heavy surgical doors swung open with a hiss of pressurized air.
The head surgeon stepped out, pulling down his mask. He looked exhausted, but he gave a small, weary nod. "The bullet missed his vital organs by a fraction of an inch. We stopped the internal bleeding. Don Moretti is alive and stabilizing."
A shuddering breath rushed out of my lungs, tears pricking my eyes before I forced them back. Alive. He was alive.
"Can I see him?" I asked.
"He is awake, ma'am," the doctor replied in awe. "He fought the anesthesia the moment we closed the incision. He’s calling for you."
I stepped into the sterile recovery room. Nico lay in the center of the bed, monitors beeping rhythmically, IV lines connected to his muscular arms. His skin was pale, bandages wrapped thick around his torso, but when his silver eyes found mine, the darkness and hunger inside them burned as bright as ever.
"Hannah..." he rasped, lifting a heavy hand toward me.
I ran to his side, catching his hand in both of mine, pressing his knuckles against my wet cheek. "You idiot. You reckless, stubborn idiot."
A faint, wicked smirk touched his lips. "Did we win?"
"Victor is dead," I whispered. "You survived. But Salvatore is gathering his army downtown to seize your empire by dawn."
Nico tried to sit up, his teeth gritting against the searing pain in his abdomen. "Then get me my coat. I’ll end him myself."
"No," I said firmly, pressing both hands against his chest, holding him down. "You can't even stand, Nico."
Nico stared at me, frustration and fury flaring in his eyes. "If I don't show my face at Salvatore's gates by sunrise, the Moretti family falls. Everything my father built... everything I promised your mother... it will burn."
I looked at the heavy platinum ring on my thumb—the Moretti family crest, a lion crowned in thorns. Then I looked at the fierce, beautiful man who had taken a bullet for me without hesitation.
"You don't have to show your face," I whispered, a terrifying, exhilarating clarity washing over my soul. "You sent me to the gala as your queen, Nico. You told the world I belong to the Moretti name."
Nico’s eyes widened slightly as he realized what I was suggesting. "Hannah, no. It’s too dangerous. I won't let you—"
"You don't command me from that bed," I interrupted, leaning down to press a soft, fierce kiss to his dry lips. "Marco will follow me. Your soldiers will follow me. You gave me a five-hundred-dollar kiss, and I’m going to protect your billion-dollar crown."
I stepped back, slipping his platinum signet ring onto my index finger. It was large and heavy, but it fit like a vow.
I turned toward the door where Marco stood waiting in the shadows.
"Marco," I commanded, my voice ringing clear and cold through the medical bay. "Assemble the entire fleet. Bring every weapon we have in the armory. We're going to pay Don Salvatore a visit before the sun comes up."
Marco looked at Nico, who was staring at me with a mixture of terror, disbelief, and breathless, reverent awe.
Nico closed his eyes for a split second, then nodded to his general. "Do what she says. Her word is my law."
Marco snapped a sharp salute. "Right away, Donna Moretti."
I walked out of the room into the cold morning air, thirty black armored sedans lining the courtyard, hundreds of men waiting in the shadows with loaded rifles, their eyes fixed on me as I descended the grand marble stairs.
The phone in my pocket buzzed with an unknown encrypted number.
I pressed it to my ear.
May you like
"Hannah Bennett," Don Salvatore’s venomous voice hissed through the speaker. "You think you won because that rabid dog took a bullet for you? Look outside your perimeter walls right now. I have a surprise waiting for you that even Nico didn't see coming."
A thunderous explosion shook the outer gates of the estate, illuminating the black dawn in a horrifying wall of crimson fire.
