Chapter 137
Marina's hysterical accusations and confessions only echoed back to her own madness, failing to stir even the slightest ripple in Vitale's heart.
The last shred of Marina's sanity was burned away by despair and venomous resentment.
"I told them, I told Laura, and I hinted to Isabella—what happens when they cross me? They don't get it, they don't understand people like us, the life of the mafia, what real darkness looks like."
"Blood, betrayal, always living on edge—I just wanted them to see it, to see it with their own eyes."
"They think they own men like you and Amboni, but do they know what kind of bloodthirsty swamp you're standing in?"
Laura was trembling, her lips quivering with anger as she glared at Marina. If Amboni hadn't held her back, she would've leapt out of bed.
Finally, Vitale reacted.
He slowly turned around, his gaze sweeping over Marina's crazed, distorted face.
"Who said we live in darkness?"
Marina was momentarily choked by his casual retort and that piercing smile.
Vitale continued, "We have our own rules, our own order, our own way of life. It might not fit the laws under the sun, but this is our world."
"As for being bloodthirsty..." He gave a slight shrug, a tiny gesture filled with indifference, "That's just one way to solve problems. It's very efficient."
"And whether they're scared or not..."
Vitale didn't finish, but his meaning was clear enough.
Isabella and Laura's fear came more from the sudden, concrete violence of tonight than from any abstract dread of the world he or Amboni lived in.
Marina's schemes had been built on a wrong assumption from the start.
"Vitale," Amboni couldn't hold back any longer. He couldn't stand Marina, this lunatic, continuing to provoke Laura.
Vitale glanced at Amboni and raised a hand.
Efren and the guards holding Amboni immediately let go.
The moment Amboni was free, he rushed to Marina in a single stride. Before anyone could react, he raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face.
The sound was crisp and merciless.
Marina's head jerked to the side from the force. She was stunned, clutching her face as she stared at Amboni in disbelief, her eyes filled with the shock and pain of betrayal.
In her twisted logic, even if Amboni didn't help her, he shouldn't have hit her for Laura's sake.
Amboni didn't spare her a second glance. He turned, pulling the trembling Laura into a tight embrace, whispering softly in her ear, "It's okay, Laura, it's okay. Don't listen to a single word that crazy woman said. Don't believe her."
"I'm here. I'll never let you go through that kind of darkness. I promise."
His voice was low and firm, carrying a tenderness and determination he'd never shown before.
In Amboni's arms, Laura's tense nerves finally began to relax. Tears welled up again, but this time, they were a release of grievance and lingering fear, not just pure terror.
Vitale watched the scene and sighed.
Trouble always came from within, from these messy, stupid emotional entanglements.
He didn't want to waste any more time on Marina.
"Efren, take Marina to Costa."
"Tell Costa I'm sending her back. How he deals with her is his business, but if she dares to show up in Thalassia again or tries to harm my people..."
Vitale didn't finish, but the unspoken threat was more effective than any words.
"No!" Marina let out a scream even more desperate and piercing than before.
"No, Vitale, you can't do this to me! I belong by your side. My father helped you. You can't betray him! You can't betray our bond!"
She struggled wildly, trying to lunge at Vitale, but Efren and the guards held her firmly.
The last trace of patience vanished from Vitale's eyes, "I'm not betraying your father, Marina. We had a partnership, each taking what we needed. But your madness and stupidity have seriously messed with my life and hurt the people I value most. That makes me very unhappy."
"So, I don't want to see you again. Get out, before I draw my gun."
That last sentence made Marina's cries and struggles freeze instantly.
Her face turned ashen, the last spark in her eyes snuffed out, leaving only endless fear and despair.
She knew Vitale meant it.
One more word, and that bullet might really fire.
She was dragged out roughly by Efren and the guards, her cries fading quickly down the corridor.
Vitale stood there for a few seconds, his gaze sweeping over Amboni and Laura in their embrace. Without another word, he turned and left.
Henley had been moved here for more professional post-surgery care and observation.
When Vitale pushed open the hospital room door, it was quiet inside.
Henley lay on the bed, eyes closed, his face still pale, but his breathing was much steadier.
A doctor in a white coat, looking far more professional than Efren, was checking the monitoring equipment nearby.
"How's he doing?" Vitale asked quietly.
The doctor looked up, saw it was him, and nodded slightly, "Mr. Luca, we've cleaned and re-stitched Henley's abdominal wound. The earlier treatment was too rough, and there was a risk of infection. He lost a lot of blood, so he needs rest and a transfusion. Also..."
The doctor paused, pointing to Henley's lower body under the blanket, "During the examination, we found a small, unnoticed puncture wound on the back of his left thigh. There's a small-caliber steel pellet bullet lodged deep inside, close to the sciatic nerve. The pain was likely masked by the abdominal injury and blood loss, so neither he nor Efren noticed it."
Vitale's brows furrowed sharply, his gaze turning cold, "A steel pellet bullet? Efren didn't report this."
Efren stepped forward nervously, sweat beading on his forehead, "Boss, I'm sorry. The situation was urgent, and I was focused on the abdominal stab wound and stopping the bleeding. I didn't do a full, detailed check. It's my mistake."
"Useless," Vitale spat through gritted teeth, his tone icy.
Efren flinched, not daring to say another word.
"What now?" Vitale turned to the doctor, "Has the bullet been removed? Will there be any lasting damage?"
"We performed emergency surgery to remove the bullet. Luckily, it only grazed the nerve and didn't cause major damage. But recovery is critical. If there's infection or poor healing, it could affect his leg strength and mobility."
"The anesthesia hasn't fully worn off yet, so he needs rest. Mr. Luca, if possible..."
The doctor's meaning was clear—he didn't want Vitale disturbing the patient.
But Vitale had questions that needed answers.
He glanced at Henley's pale face and said firmly, "I need him awake to answer a few questions. It's important."
The doctor looked troubled, "I'm afraid that's not possible. With the anesthesia and his blood loss, he's extremely weak. Forcing him awake could..."
"Then find another way," Vitale cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument, "Stimulate his nerves, get him conscious for just a few minutes. That's all I need."
The doctor wanted to protest, but meeting Vitale's unyielding gaze, he sighed and relented, "I'll try, but I can't guarantee it'll work, and it might affect his recovery."
Just as the doctor turned to fetch the necessary drugs or tools, a faint, weak voice came from the bed.
"Boss..."
Vitale and the doctor turned at the same time.
Henley had somehow forced his heavy eyelids open on his own.
"Henley!" Vitale stepped forward, leaning close, "Don't talk, save your strength. I'll ask, and you just nod, shake your head, or give short answers."
Henley moved his head slightly, signaling he understood.
Vitale asked quickly, "The people who attacked you—besides the Blood Wolf's low-level thugs, was there anyone else? Someone more professional?"
Henley's pupils contracted slightly. He took a labored breath and whispered in a barely audible voice, "Yes... a few... different... not regular thugs... their moves... trained... coordinated..."
He paused, gathering strength, then continued, "They... no tattoos on their arms... didn't look like mafia..."
"More like... anti-mafia types... what do we do?"
Vitale's eyes sharpened instantly, a vague suspicion in his mind partially confirmed.
"I've got it."
"Rest now. I'll handle this."
"I've already got someone on the inside."
A question flickered in Henley's eyes, "Who?"