Shattered Throne: A Dark Mafia Romance: War of Roses Universe (Mice and Men Book 3), Lana Sky [summer reading list txt] 📗

doesn’t matter,” the man replies, his tone short. “Get to Mercy hospital before it’s too late. The Stepanovs might be a target, and I’m sure your nephew is too.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Traffic is at a standstill,” the man says. “You’ll have to run there. Stall long enough for me to arrive.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

Rather than answer, the bastard hangs up.

Son of a bitch. I eye the receiver, weighing my options. I’m not inclined to take orders like some whipping boy—at the same time, I don’t like the idea of the hospital being a target. Not one fucking bit.

Getting in touch with Fabio is the smartest course of action—or even Mischa himself. I grab my cell, trying to call those particular people in order.

Neither one goes through, and time is ticking.

As it stands, my only backup is the woman behind me.

“Here—” I reach into my pocket, knowing full well that I’m giving her more than a weapon—her own knife, to be exact. I’m giving her control, a chance to turn the tables if she wants to.

Attack me. Run.

Her eyes gleam as though she’s weighing those very options. Which appeals to her more?

“We need to get to the hospital,” I say, offering her the blade. “Your family could be in danger.”

So could she. Rethinking my plan, I start to withdraw the knife. “Or you could stay here. Wait for me—”

She shakes her head, her eyes blazing. When she offers the flat of her palm, I know that whether I allow her to or not, she’s leaving.

“Fine.” I press the blade against her hand. She has nowhere to put it, though. “Here—” I shrug off my jacket and shove the knife into the pocket. “We’ll have to run there. You stay with me, you got that?”

She nods, chin jutting in the air, gaze fixed with determination. Looking at her, I have to admit—as stupid as a thought it might be—when it comes to her, I know better than Fabio.

Black is the only color that suits her.

22

Willow

I have no idea who he spoke to, or what about. I only trust the truthful way he conveyed those words—Your family is in danger.

When he lunges for the door, commanding me to follow, I do without question.

We can’t have been in the hotel for more than an hour, but as we exit the building, it’s apparent just how sheltered we’ve been within those walls. One step from the main doors and the chaos stemming from the city’s west end is deafeningly intense.

Smoke tinges the air as sirens continue to blare. People congregate on corners muttering, their faces turned in the direction of the blaze.

But beneath it all, I can’t escape a feeling of wrongness. Donatello senses it as well, his eyes narrowing. Without warning, he grabs my arm, pulling me closer to his side.

Selfish thoughts intrude in a moment where my sole concern should be on my family. I hate him for touching me. At the same time, I need him to. His nearness is an anchor against the pandemonium, bolstering me when otherwise I’d be too anxious to think straight.

With his scent in my lungs, my thoughts are crystal clear. He’s worried; I can see it in his eyes. For Vin? For my family, even? …For me?

Fearlessly, his steps propel him from block to block. I’m panting in my haste to keep up, but the further we go, the more obvious it becomes that driving would be out of the question. Traffic is bumper-to-bumper, and I know a grim possibility he doesn’t mention out loud.

If Ellen and Eli are in danger, the small retinue of Stepanov men stationed at Mercy is all they’ll have for protection. Beyond the city, in Stepanov Manor, Mischa won’t be able to reach them.

“We’re almost there,” Donatello warns. His composure alone dispels the fear threatening to choke me. He turns calamity into clarity, his voice persistent, somehow easily audible despite the noise.

“I don’t know what to expect,” he cautions as the Mercy Hospital complex comes into view. When we near the main entrance, he grips me even tighter, lowering his mouth to my ear. “We’ll get to your family, first. Move them toward Vin’s wing.”

A fact easier said than done once we reach the lobby.

The spacious area is packed with concerned visitors all clustered around the front desk, shouting various questions. Only a few of the lights remain on to illuminate the usually bright space.

“Yes, there was a power outage,” I hear the receptionist say, her strained tone desperate to convey calm. “The hospital is running on a generator for now, but there is no risk to patient care. However, patients on the fourth floor are being evacuated to another wing for their safety…”

My heart lurches. Vincenzo’s floor.

Donatello must realize as well. His jaw clenches as we pass the receptionist completely, but he doesn’t slow, heading straight for the elevators.

“Shit,” he snarls when we reach their location.

A yellow caution sign has already been affixed to one, warning they’re out of service hospital-wide.

Already pivoting, Donatello heads for a nearby stairwell instead. “This way. Wait—” His eyes flash with indecision as we mount the first flight of steps. Overall, the stairwell itself is eerily deserted, every breath and sound amplified times a thousand. “Vin… I need to make sure he’s okay.”

But if there’s a threat against my family, there isn’t time to waste.

He must see that in my eyes because he hisses through his teeth. “It will be stupid to split up. But if you want, you can get there first,” he says. “Keep the knife on you. Stay out of sight. Wait for me—”

I nod, already starting up the staircase.

“You wait for me,” he warns. “We don’t know what the hell to expect.”

Meeting his gaze, I marvel at what I find. Concern? So brief and fleeting I could have imagined it. Still, it shocks me to my core. In that moment, he…

He looked like himself again.

“Did you hear me?” he snaps,