Michael
Monster.
Maybe it was time to accept that I was exactly the same as my father. After all, everything my father had ever told me-all the warnings and nasty quips thrown in my direction over the years-was correct. My true nature had surfaced, merely peeling away the layers of bullshit that Hollywood had allowed me to create. What remained was nothing but a savage beast, ready to annihilate his enemies. I could no longer use Kelan as my name.
Francesca was cunning in her own way and certainly playing a game of her own. She definitely didn't want to marry into the Saltori family. That had been evident. Even the money didn't seem to thrill her. Well, everyone had secrets to hide. I liked the terms of the deal I'd created, perhaps far too much, but I would use it to my advantage.
Somehow.
The call I made to my agent had been answered with scoffing and disbelief. At least at first. I wasn't in the mood to explain my actions, nor did I care about the whining Drake had done. I'd simply given him instructions to pull me from the upcoming movie. I had no interest in playing a military hero.
I was nobody's hero.
While I hadn't signed the contract with the studio yet, my behavior could end my career, if the news of my true heritage didn't do that first. That was just fine with me. I had other more important business to attend to. Everything I'd said about Vincenzo was true. The man was sadistic in various levels. I'd seen him with other women before, his enjoyment of inflicting pain bordering on sick. I was dominating, but not in that method. Would he care that his fiancée was missing or simply go about life?
I motioned to the two capos who'd been assigned to drive me. Both men were low-level soldiers but brutal in their actions when necessary and completely loyal to my father. I couldn't have enough of those around at this point.
"You want Rizzo and me to stay on the floor, boss?" Jax asked in a gruff voice.
All I had to do was point toward my father's armed guard. At six foot eight, no one was going to get past Carlo for any reason. "No need. Wait in the car. Just make sure that Carlo has a reprieve." As Jax nodded, preparing to follow his orders, I motioned for his return.
"Yes, boss?"
"I want you to check out everyone involved in my father's care. If there is anyone who doesn't fit, I need to know right away." Another attempt on my father's life would be made at some point. As far as the Massimos were concerned, I was still the useless son of the California Don. I had to consider Saltori still as a part of the Cappalini holdings. When I took the reins, I would need the element of surprise. No small feat given the number of players and the hounding press.
That is unless I sanctioned a hit.
I hissed, loathing the fact I'd been put into this position.
Jax opened his eyes wide. "You got it, boss. Nothing is going to happen to your father."
Of that I wasn't so certain.
I stood behind the thick glass in ICU, peering in at my father's almost lifeless figure. He'd aged even since the attack, his once prominent and quite handsome features gone, a frail old man taking his place. The rage resurfaced, perhaps a level of respect and honor. There'd been no change in his condition, no improvements of any kind. He was simply hanging onto life.
"Mr. Cappalini."
I heard the gruff yet compassionate voice of the doctor, could see his reflection in the glass. I hesitated before turning, fearful of the news. And so, I remained quiet.
He studied my face, a hint of fear in his eyes. I hadn't seen this before. Then again, the newspapers were ripe with fresh stories about my father's downfall, the history of the Borgata told in several flavors, the majority completely inaccurate.
But hundreds of thousands of copies had been sold.
The connection had just been made in the morning paper about my true identity. If that didn't crush the rest of my career, perhaps nothing would. The trickledown effect would explode within forty-eight hours. What hadn't been front page news was Francesca's abduction. The Saltoris and the Alessandros had determined that keeping her name out of the paper was in her best interest.
As if she would be found.
I snickered at the thought.
"I'm sorry to bother you," Dr. Rutherford said, darting a glance toward my father. "You're his only living relative."
"You mean Ricardo Cappalini? He has a name, Doctor."
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry." He wiped a single bead of sweat from his brow, more nervous than before. "I'm sorry to say that your father's condition isn't improving as we'd hoped. The bullet nicked several arteries, leaving a fragment in his heart. It's too risky to operate again given his condition."
"All right. What do you need from me, permission to cut him open when appropriate?" My words were biting, even nasty, but the reality of what I was about to face had hit me hard in the gut. I'd left Francesca with Tony and Grinder, giving them strict instructions to tie her down if necessary. I couldn't trust the little vixen. Perhaps I never could.
Then again, I'd violated her in every manner possible.
I'd been warned that my appearance in the hospital was risky, even dangerous, but I was through giving a shit what anyone else thought about me. No one had the right to interfere with my business.
Dr. Rutherford swallowed then took cautious steps closer. "Your father's records. There isn't a DNR or a power of attorney listed."
Inhaling, I suddenly felt lightheaded. "And you think that's necessary?"
"Yes, sir. I honestly do." He glanced up and down as if expecting to see a gun, perhaps even pointed at his face. I had two, one strapped to the inside of my right leg and the other in a holster under my suit jacket. However, I was civilized. There would be no violence in a place of healing for any reason.
Turning, I palmed the glass, watching the rise and fall of the machine breathing for my father. If he died, there would more than just hell to pay. "Then I'll make that happen, but under no circumstances do you allow Ricardo to die. Do you understand me?" I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. I could feel the ugly sneer on my face.
"I..." The good doctor paled. "Of course. I'll call you the moment anything changes."
"You do that."
He couldn't have scuttled down the hallway any faster, his polished shoes clicking on the recently cleaned linoleum floor. For some reason, I watched his departure, perhaps trying to rein in my anger. The man didn't deserve my wrath. I just needed someone to blame for the upheaval in my world.
"A little hard on him, weren't you?"
Hearing Dominick's voice was actually comforting for the first time. He and I would never be close friends, but he certainly understood what I was going through.