Page 45 of Vincenzo's Promise
Isabella
I couldn’t get the sight of his eyes closing and his body going limp out of my mind. When he stopped breathing, my heart stopped. There was so much blood. So much blood. I looked down at my designer gown, my hands now stained red. I rubbed them against my dress, not caring whether more got on the expensive lace fabric.
Cheryl, Angelo, my father and brothers all tried to get me to go change, wash the blood from my hands so I didn’t have to be reminded that Vincenzo was somewhere in this hospital fighting for his life, but I refused to leave. Nothing could make me forget what we’d gone through tonight. A hot shower and clean clothes could never wipe away that memory. I would be here when Vincenzo woke up. If he woke up.
“God, please don’t take him from me,” I whispered, praying and hoping that He would hear me.
“Bella...” My father sat down beside me.
I laid my head on his shoulder, fighting the sob clawing its way up my throat. “He saved me, Papa. He’s in there fighting for his life because of me.”
“He’s in there fighting for his life because he did what he was supposed to do, Bella. Like he used to do when you two were young. Protect you.”
I looked up at my father through blurred vision. We never got the story from him about why there were pictures of my family and Vincenzo’s together. It was odd, but life got in the way, and we never asked.
“I met Vincenzo’s father when we were kids,” he explained. “Although your grandfather was Cosa Nostra, and Vincenzo’s grandfather was Camorra, we became fast friends. We remained the best of friends even though our families disapproved of the connection. To make a long story short, like us, you two were drawn to one another from the first time you met as children. Vincenzo always protected you, no matter if it was from neighborhood kids when we took you guys to the park, or a damn bug you were scared of.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “But the older you two got, Salvatore, Vincenzo’s father, and I agreed we needed to sever the friendship. Vincenzo was going to take over for his father one day, and you would be separate from this life. But Salvatore swore you would always be in his son’s heart, and it was meant for you two to be together.”
“Why can’t I remember him?”
“You were young, Bella. I think you were six, and he was around ten the last time you saw one another. You cried for months over him, and he did the same until eventually you both stopped asking for one another. But he’s always loved you, even though he didn’t remember you. His heart always belonged to you.”
“Seeing him bleeding out...” I choked, my words getting stuck my throat as I shook my head. “I love him, Papa. I didn’t think it was possible, but I do.”
He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to him. “You always have, my dear. Stay strong. He’ll need you to get through this, but now you have to step up and handle this. You are his Donna, and someone has tried to bring him down.” I looked up at him. “It is an attack on him, you, and your clan.”
I knew what he meant, but could I handle this? Someone attacked my family, and now it was up to me to make sure they paid.
“Family of Vincenzo De Maio?”
I stood and made my way to the awaiting doctor. He was still dressed in his blue operating room gown.
“I’m Isabella Lombardo, Vincenzo’s fiancée.”
The doctor nodded, but I didn’t miss the grim look that flittered across his face when I introduced myself. I was sure it was one I’d given whenever I had to deliver bad news to a waiting family.
Vincenzo had taken a single bullet to the abdomen. He’d lost a lot of blood, and he’d also stopped breathing, forcing me to perform rescue breaths until the EMS arrived, which eventually turned to CPR when his heart stopped. I wasn’t delusional about his condition and knew it would be an uphill battle. The next few hours were crucial.
“We are his only family,” I said. “Please don’t beat around the bush. We need to know exactly what we are dealing with.”
The doctor nodded. “Mr. De Maio suffered a gunshot wound to the abdomen that nicked his lung causing pneumothorax.”
“What the fuck is that?” Angelo questioned, interrupting the doctor.
Cheryl laced her fingers in his, and he looked down at her, the rage blanketing his face now soothed.
“He has a collapsed lung,” Cheryl replied, and Angelo nodded.
“We inserted a chest tube for the pneumothorax,” the doctor continued. “While in surgery, we did lose him on the table, but we were able to bring him back.”
I’d known it was a possibility since it happened on the scene, but it was still gut wrenching to hear.
“We also had to treat him with a blood transfusion for blood lost once we got the bleeding to stop. The bullet also nicked a rib, fracturing it. There was only an entry wound, so we removed the bullet while repairing the damage. He’s in the ICU, sedated. He will be closely monitored for the next few days, so we are limiting visitors at this time. Only two people are allowed in tonight.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I replied.
He nodded before turning on his heels and heading to the nurse’s station.
“Bella, I’m going to head home to make some calls,” my father said, kissing the side of my head. “Call me if anything changes. I love you.”
