Chapter 6
The heavy oak doors of the dining room slammed shut, the metallic clack of the deadbolt echoing loudly from the outside. Inside, the brilliant light from the chandeliers seemed to trap the remaining Romano family members in a pristine, terrifying cage. Francesca sank into one of the upholstered dining chairs, her trembling hands clutching the edge of the mahogany table. Vincent paced near the windows, running a hand through his thinning hair, while Mason cowered beside his mother, who was still weeping softly on the floor by the ruined chess table.
Outside in the hallway, Alessandra moved with swift, terrifying purpose. She carried Caleb down the long, carpeted corridor toward the east wing, where the estate’s private medical suite was located. Two of her most trusted bodyguards fell into step behind her, their eyes constantly scanning the shadows, though the only danger tonight had come from within.
"Dr. Evans," Alessandra barked as she pushed through the double doors of the clinic. The sterile, white light of the medical suite washed over her luxurious crimson gown. "I need him examined immediately. Ribs, lungs, everything."
The older, fair-skinned doctor rushed forward, motioning for her to lay Caleb on the examination table. Alessandra gently set her son down, holding his small hand as the doctor quickly and expertly began his assessment.
"He took a hard hit to the lower right ribcage, Boss," Dr. Evans murmured, his American accent soft and reassuring. He carefully palpitated the bruised, rosy skin of the four-year-old's side. Caleb whimpered, squeezing his mother's fingers tightly. "No severe breaks, thank God. But there's a hairline fracture, and the bruising is extensive. The shortness of breath is likely from the panic and the pain of the impact. He needs rest, ice, and pain management."
Alessandra exhaled a long, shuddering breath, the tension leaving her shoulders for a fraction of a second before returning with a vengeance. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Caleb’s forehead.
"You did so well, my brave boy," Alessandra whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Mommy is going to take care of everything. I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again."
"Are they going away, Mom?" Caleb asked weakly, his heavy eyelids drooping from exhaustion and the mild painkiller the doctor had just administered.
"Yes, baby," Alessandra promised, her dark eyes flashing with a lethal promise. "They are going very far away."
She waited until Caleb’s breathing evened out into a deep, rhythmic sleep before stepping away from the examination table. She turned to the two bodyguards standing at the door.
"Stay with him," Alessandra ordered, her voice returning to the cold, authoritative tone of the Mafia Boss. "If anyone who isn't me or Dr. Evans tries to enter this room, put a bullet in their head. I don't care who they are."
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"Understood, Boss," the men replied in unison.
Alessandra adjusted the strap of her evening gown, wiping a small smear of Caleb’s tears from her pristine cheek. She walked out of the medical suite, the sharp click of her heels echoing ominously down the silent hallway. She was heading back to the dining room. The time for medical assessment was over; it was time to finalize the surgical removal of the cancer infecting her syndicate.
