Page 90 of The Bonventi Rise
"Try not to move too much. I'm going to get the doctor."
I try to piece together what happened, but my mind is sluggish. I remember the election. I won. I was giving a speech, and then…
"Mr. Bonventi," a voice says. I turn slightly to see a man walk in, wearing a white coat. "I'm Dr. Kleiman. How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been hit by a truck," I mutter. "What happened?"
Dr. Kleiman's expression turns serious. "You were shot, Mr. Bonventi. Multiple times, in fact."
The memories come flooding back. The podium. The flashing cameras. The sudden, searing pain in my chest.
"Remarkable," he says, checking something on the monitors. "Simply remarkable. We lost you twice on the operating table. We weren't sure you'd make it through that first night."
I try to process this information, but it feels surreal. Like I'm watching a movie about someone else's life.
"A miracle, some would say. I don't use the word lightly," he says, looking over my chest, "but in this case, it's appropriate."
"How long have I been here?" I ask.
"You've been in an induced coma for four days," he replies. "We brought you out of it yesterday, but this is the first time you've been fully conscious."
Four days. Christ.
"You're lucky to have such a great support system. Your brothers have been here constantly, and your fiancée," Dr. Kleiman's expression softens. "That woman hasn't left the waiting room except for a brief fainting spell. Stress and trauma, I imagine. We made an exception to let her see you briefly last night."
"Alina," I say, my voice still rough. "My fiancée. She's here?"
"Oh yes, she's quite devoted," Dr. Kleiman says with a smile. "A keeper, if you don't mind me saying."
"Can I see her?"
"Let's see how you're doing in a couple of hours. If your vitals remain stable, we'll consider it. But remember, Mr. Bonventi, you need to rest," he says and walks out.
I nod, ignoring the pain. Please. God. I need to see her. Need to apologize. Need to tell her she was the only thing I thought about that entire day until I blacked out.
However long later, Dr. Kleiman pops his head back in. "You're doing well, Mr. Bonventi. I'll send your family in now. But please, take it easy. You're still in critical condition. No excitement."
I close my eyes, picturing Alina's face. Her smile. The way her eyes light up when she laughs.
I made a mistake. A big one. But I'm alive, against all odds. And she's still here.
I have a second chance. And this time, I won't waste it.
The door creaks open, and they file in one by one. Gio first, then Enzo, Livia, and finally, Alina. Her face is pale, dark circles under her eyes, but she's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"Jesus, brother," Gio says, breaking the heavy silence. "You look like shit."
A surprised laugh bursts from my throat, quickly followed by a groan of pain. "Fuck you, Gio."
The room erupts in laughter, a collective release of the fear and anxiety that's been hanging over them for days. Alina's laugh is soft, almost hesitant, but it's there.
"Someone want to tell me what happened?" I ask, shifting slightly, wincing at the pain that shoots through my chest. "Last thing I remember, I was giving my victory speech."
Enzo steps forward, his face grim. "Some Russian fuck tried to take you out. Right there on stage, in front of everyone."
"Chaos erupted," Livia adds, her hand finding Enzo's. "People were screaming, running. Your brother Gio here killed the man."
I nod, trying to take it all in. My eyes find Alina, standing silently at the foot of my bed. She's hugging herself, like she's trying to hold herself together.
