Page 109 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
I take a long look at Trilby lying motionless on the bed and then perch on one of the seats, my Di Santo muscles primed to jump up and gun down anyone who might dare to cross my path at any second.
“She’s in a critical condition, sir. We’re working hard to stabilize her heart, and we’ve taken tests to understand what caused the attack.”
“It was poison,” I say. “White baneberry.”
The doctor narrows his eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because ...”—my breath feels scratchy against my lungs—“it’s what killed my father.”
The doctor smiles kindly. “With all respect, sir, the great Gianni Di Santo died from heart failure.”
“And what is it you suppose Trilby Castellano just experienced?”
A shadow falls over his features. “Why do you think it’s white baneberry?”
“Because my brother kept it at our family home. I believe he may have killed my father.”
Saying the words out loud feels like a dagger to the chest. My breath escapes, and I have to pause. How did I not see it? If it was so clear to Savero that Father wanted me to succeed him instead of my brother, why wasn’t it clear to me too? Was I so blinded by the grief of losing our mother that I couldn’t see anything else?
If I’d stayed, would it have been clearer then, or would Savero have felt even more threatened?
And then the hardest question of all settles over me like a gravestone. Could I have prevented all this? Could I have saved our father? Perhaps if I’d been less interested in pursuing my own success, I would have more easily spotted someone else’s downfall.
The doctor watches me intently.
“And I think he tried to kill me.”
He frowns. “You?”
“Yes. It was in a glass of water.” I nod toward the room where Trilby’s lying. “But she drank it instead of me.”
“You’re sure it’s white baneberry?” He doesn’t look convinced.
“Yes. Why?”
“We’ll need to run some different tests. If that is in her system, we’ll administer specific medication.”
He stands up and begins to walk away, but then he turns back to me, alarm fresh on his face.
“Do we have to worry about the don, sir?”
Now that’s something Icananswer with confidence.
“No. You will never have to worry about him again.”
I wait for Tony to arrive and stand by while the doctors explain the condition of Trilby’s heart.
“Is this why you need to see Savero?” Tony asks. His voice is woven with panic, and I see a kind of terror that’s filled those eyes before.
I rest a hand on his shoulder. “He was the last person I saw her with. I want to find out what he knows.”
His voice drops. “Do you think he was responsible for this?”
I’m absolutely certain of it, but I don’t want to distract Tony from being at his daughter’s bedside.
“I don’t know, but believe me, whoever was behind this ... I’ll make sure they don’t wake up from their next sleep.”
Tony grits his teeth and nods, and a silent agreement passes between us.
