Page 66 of Capo

I twist my lips, then I spin around and stalk back to Eric.

“This is a fucking nightmare,” he says. “You need to clean house. Send everyone away who can’t shoot and who you can’t afford losing.”

My mind spins with the implications. We’re under attack. There’s been skirmishes over the years, but I’ve never had everything threatened before. My whole empire. My business. My people.

“Luci! Wake the fuck up. Get to it. Get David, Carmen and the lot out of town. See to Elena. We gotta shut down our clubs. Nothing opens tonight or they’ll all be at risk of an escalation. Revenge.”

I dart up and pace the room as I pull up the phone and call my long-time partner.

“This is a surprise,” says Elena. “Did my advice work?”

“Elena. Shut down your business immediately. Arm your girls or send them away. Shit is going down and no one is safe.”

She’s quiet a moment. “What are you saying?”

“We’re at war. I can’t spare people to guard your house. Send off your girls or prepare to defend yourselves. We’ve got enough firearms for a small army, I can help you with that, but I can’t look after you.”

“What—”

“You heard me. How the fuck can I make myself clearer?” I disconnect, realizing my hands are shaking.

I pace the waiting area back and forth. People come and go. Dustin calls and reports back regularly, asks if I know anything. He’s known Ivan for a long time as well. Nathan calls and tells me Christian is in a medically induced coma at Mount Sinai in New York and that it’s bad. I feel as if I’m about to implode. This impotent feeling of not being able to act kills me. If Ivan lives or dies–and that it’s out of my hands–makes me want to tear down the hospital, brick by brick. If they don’t save him, I’ll fucking do that.

If Ivan dies.

If Christian dies.

I can’t breathe.

Looking at Eric, I see the same mute fear on his face and how it turns to resolve. He stands abruptly. “I can’t just sit here. I’ll go back and start planning for wiping these Russian motherfuckers off the face of the Earth. We’ve got good men there, but they need you or me. They need a leader.”

He stands stiff, awaiting my response, and I walk up to him, giving him a hug, slapping his back. “I trust you.”

“Do you want me to call in your old hitman Roarke Brennan? The mercs?”

I throw up my hands. “If you can reach him. I don’t think we parted in bad blood. Get everyone onboard. We need every fucking psychopath killer on the globe on our side right now.”

Eric nods and leaves without another word and I’m left alone, feeling as if the weight of the world has fallen upon me.

I’ve been alone in the waiting room for a long while when the glass door at the far end opens and a scrub-clad woman in her mid-thirties exits the closed off area. I stand as she walks up to me. She looks too young. I want someone who knows what they’re talking about.

“Are you Mr. Sokolov’s friend?”

“I’m—” What the fuck am I? “Yes! How is he?”

“I’m Doctor Marin. I’m the resident trauma surgeon. We’ve been working on stabilizing his condition. He went into cardiac arrest twice.”

“How. The fuck. Is he?” I growl.

Instead of the fear I would have expected, her tired green eyes turn compassionate. “Your friend is being wheeled to the ICU. We’re optimistic about the outcome, even though I can’t make any guarantees. He was badly injured.”

I deflate as I realize how tired I am. Staggering backward, I sit when I hit a chair with the back of my legs. “But he’ll make it, though? When can I see him?”

“Mr. Sokolov is unconscious, but I can arrange for a brief visit. I’ll have someone come fetch you, Mr…”

“Salvatore,” I mutter.

Her eyes widen and it’s not hard to see that my name means something to her. She clears her throat. “Right. Someone… will be with you soon.” Turning on her heels, she disappears back through the glass door and I’m left alone with the unimaginable turmoil inside.

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