Page 45 of Forced Arrangement

I look over my shoulder and see that Franco has arrived. I know him well enough to see his shock at the sight of Gianni and me covered in blood.

“What the fuck,” he mutters. “Are you all right?” he asks me, helping to support Gianni’s weight as we start to take him toward the elevator.

“Mostly,” I say. “It’s all his blood. They cut out his tongue.”

“The fuck,” Franco growls. “Animals.”

The ride up to the penthouse feels like it’s taking hours. I awkwardly press my finger to the fingerprint scanner that gives the elevator permission to go up to the top floor. As soon as the elevator pings, we all spill out, a trail of blood slicking the floor.

“Where’s Doc?” I demand as my men carry Gianni into the kitchen. They lift him onto the large kitchen island, and Franco hurries to the pantry to get out the huge first-aid kit that I keep in there for situations just like this one.

“He’s downstairs. He’s on his way up,” Franco says from the pantry. He comes out with the first-aid box in his hand.

“What’s going on?”

I look over my shoulder and see Justine and Sophia rushing into the kitchen. Justine claps a hand over her mouth at the sight of all the blood. She stands still for a moment, then races out of the room, no doubt to be sick.

Sophia, however, wades into the mess without a qualm. “Let me help,” she says commandingly. “Give me some gauze.”

I step back, holding my aching hand. She will be of far more use than myself with my broken hand. I feel a swoop of lightheadedness and lean back against the counter.

I have seen a lot of terrible things, but this…this is something else. It’s a level of brutality that I never expected from Costa. Honestly, it’s a level of brutality that I have only ever heard old mafia men talk about.

“What’ve we got?”

I look up and see Doc wading into the group of people attending to Gianni on the kitchen counter. He slips a little in the blood on the floor but catches himself before he goes down.

Doc has been our personal doctor ever since I was a young man. He’s about ten years older than me, sharp as a tack and completely trustworthy. He’s actually a plastic surgeon with his own private clinic, but he knows his way around emergency medicine.

We pay him well to be on-call at all times. His father was one of my father’s most trusted men, so he grew up in the life. He understands what we need and he provides it with unflagging commitment.

We’ve even used his day job skills from time to time to send men into hiding. He’s very good at what he does.

“Costa,” I say. “Cut his tongue out.”

“Fucking bastard,” Doc says savagely. He tilts Gianni’s head to the side, and peers into his mouth.

“Do we need to get him to the clinic?” I ask.

“Yes, but I need to get this bleeding in order first. Give me a few minutes to keep him from bleeding out.”

I watch Doc working quickly and efficiently, his blue eyes trained on the man on the counter with intense focus.

“You’re new here,” Doc says to Sophia as he struggles to Gianni’s mouth to stop bleeding.

She hands him more gauze and helps steady the man’s head. “Sophia Agostini,” she says matter-of-factly.

He glances up sharply at her for a beat. “Royalty among us,” he comments.

She snorts, swiping her hair back away from her face. She leaves a smear of Gianni’s blood across her forehead. “Hardly,” she says back. “Mostly, I’m just a liability around here.”

“Agree to disagree,” Doc says back. “Alessio Ricci. Doc to the stars…and Angelo Castiglia’s family.”

Sophia smiles at him for a beat. “Glad to meet you.”

“What’s wrong with your hand?” Doc says to me distractedly as he continues to work.

I sigh. “Broke it. Car door slammed on it as we got away.”

---