Page 17 of Deadly Don's Baby Contract

When we’re done, Marco and Jean-Luka open the outside double doors to smoke their cigars. The rest of us mingle in the dining room, drinking orange juice and talking. It’s a lovely morning, and the fresh air from outside is wonderful.

Giulia leaves me to get more juice, and Franco comes to talk to me, but as he opens his mouth to speak, a blast rips through the room, throwing me against the far wall and driving the air from my lungs.

My ears ring from the blast as dust and debris fill the air. The curtains are on fire, as are the broken bits of furniture I can see. My head hurts from where I hit the wall, and my lungs ache as I try to take shallow breaths.

“Aria,” Franco calls through the chaos.

“I’m here,” I gasp.

He appears like a wraith through the haze. His face is smeared with ash, and he has blood on his forehead. “Take my hand.”

I take it, and he guides me through the rubble out of the room. Once in the marble hallway of the mansion, I can breathe better. Franco pats me down, checking me for wounds.

“I’m okay,” I say.

Giulia staggers toward us, supporting Sofia. Franco goes to them and checks them over.

“Jean-Luka,” Sofia rasps, then coughs.

Franco nods, then hurries out of the front door. Giulia, Sofia, and I huddle together for what seems like forever, but soon, the maids come with blankets and tea, and they take care of us while we wait to find out what happened.

When we hear sirens in the distance, Giulia gets up to check on the men. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

As she rushes off, I turn to check that Mama Sofia is alright, then sprint after Giulia. My Gucci dress is torn—shredded, really—but I’m still dressed enough to go outside.

An ambulance has just pulled up. The paramedics jump out and rush toward the bombed façade of the mansion. I hurry after them. Marco is down with injuries to his face and chest. The paramedics quickly load him into the ambulance and drive off.

Jean-Luka also has injuries, but they’re not severe. He takes Giulia’s hand, and they go into the house together to see Mama Sofia. I’m left outside alone with Franco, although I can see his bodyguards pacing the perimeter of the property.

“Are you hurt?” Franco asks.

“Just a few bruises, I think.”

He sighs. “Okay. Take a shower and get changed. Marco will want us to be at the hospital. I’ll see you back here in fifteen minutes.”

Franco gently strokes my hand as if to soften his words but then strides off without a backward glance.

I grind my teeth, turn around, and hurry to my room. When I slip out of what’s left of my dress, I notice quite a few sore spots, and I know those will be black and blue by tomorrow.

As per Franco’s orders, I take a quick shower and change into fresh clothes—jeans and a top. I’m back downstairs within minutes. Three police cars are in the driveway now, and cops are crawling over the scene. I guess they’re all paid off by the family.

Franco ushers me to the car, and I’m surprised when he gets into the driver’s seat.

“No driver?” I ask.

“They need him for questioning,” Franco replies.

We’re silent on the way to the hospital, but I can see something is on Franco’s mind. I know he wants to ask me something. I have questions, too. Like: who attacked the mansion?

At the hospital, we’re guided to a day ward, where we find Marco already bandaged and cared for.

“They say I can leave this evening,” the don says, smiling. “Just a few scratches. Nothing a few stitches couldn’t fix.”

We stand by his bed as he brags about his injuries, but I want to gag when he exposes those that aren’t covered by bandages or plasters. Seared flesh isn’t what I find appealing.

“Now, you listen to me, Franco.” Marco’s voice has gone low, and Franco leans over the bed. “I want you to protect Aria until this threat passes. I don’t care what you have to do to keep her safe. You just do it. You hear me?”

“Of course, brother,” Franco replies.

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