Page 34 of Scar

“What the hell, Scar? Who the fuck would assault a house where a man lies in a coma?”

Her words tingle at the edges of my mind. Who, indeed? A man in a coma is as good as dead. Tonight’s attack was not meant for Don Marone; it was meant for us.

CHAPTER 31 – ALLEGRA

Scar insists on bringing my parents back to our home with us. I'm not sure how he manages it, but an ambulance arrives in the middle of the night to pick up my father and transport him to our compound. My mother, her arm newly bandaged and in a sling, protests loudly about leaving their house, but ultimately gives in when my husband threatens to forcibly remove her. He reminds her that he doesn't want to be the one to inform me if there is another successful attempt on their lives.

Our family doctor attends to each of us individually, carefully cleaning and bandaging any wounds we may have sustained. He's a round, friendly man with a gentle air who has been treating the Gattis for over twenty years.

“Don Marone as well,” Scar says as he pulls on a t-shirt after his torso is tended to; he narrowly avoided being shot, but did sustain some scrapes.

“My father is fine,” I argue, though I'm not entirely convinced of this myself.

“I want bloodwork,” Scar insists, looking at my mother. She looks at him with confusion and concern.

“I want to know what kind of heart attack would leave a man semi-comatose for weeks.”

“What are you saying?” I gasp.

His eyes harden as he turns to my mother. She is clearly afraid of where this conversation is headed.

“What are you saying?”

He addresses the doctor next. “I want to know every drug found in his system and how it got there.” Then turning to my mother again, he asks who had access to my father while he was sick.

“He had very few visitors,” she tells him. “What does this mean?”

“The fact that we were attacked at your home suggests that this wasn't just an attack on our families individually, but rather on both of our families together. Someone wants us all dead. So now I need to know who. And when.”

“Why?” my mother gasps.

“Because someone believes Don Marone is as good as dead already,” Scar explains. “The attack was on all surviving members of our families. So tell me, who knew that we would all be gathered at your house tonight?”

This is what I know:

My life begins and ends with Scar Gatti. And together, we will conquer the darkness that threatens to consume us.

The beautiful demon paces the room, dressed only in his sweats. His muscles ripple with each movement, his broad back a testament to the strength he carries. He swings his arms in frustration, his sigh heavy and laden with the weight of the world. He’s lost in thought, his mind ravaged by questions that have no easy answers.

Someone tried to take out both our families. Someone attacked us...and they almost succeeded.

Scar’s presence fills the room, a mix of raw power and simmering anger. His eyes, dark and intense, scan the surroundings as if seeking answers in the shadows. The dim light casts an eerie glow, highlighting the tension etched on his face. Every line, every furrow of his brow tells a story of battles fought and scars earned.

I watch him, my heart pounding in tandem with his restless movements. The air is thick with the unspoken, a silent storm brewing between us. My mind races back to the chaos of the attack, the deafening gunfire, the shattering glass, and the sheer terror of almost losing everything.

“Scar,” I finally whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

He stops pacing, his gaze locking onto mine. For a moment, the vulnerability in his eyes breaks through his hardened exterior. But only for a moment. He quickly masks it with a steely resolve, the kind that has seen him through countless battles.

He moves into me, cradling my face in his large hands, tipping our heads to each other. He inhales, then exhales on a tired note.

“The thought that something could’ve happened to you…” He falters and shakes his head. “I’ll find out who did this,” he says, his voice a low growl. “And when I do, I will not show them any mercy.”

The words hang in the air, a vow, a promise of retribution. I feel the magnetic pull of his presence; my life is irrevocably intertwined with his, our fates bound together by an unbreakable bond dictated even before we were born and destined for one another. Our fathers wrote our fate years ago, and now that same fate is what holds us together.

Scar was right.

An attempt on my father's life was made before the incident at our family home. The doctor informs us that cocaine was used in the initial attack.

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