THE CAREGIVER HE CALLED A NOBODY TOOK FIVE BULLETS FOR THE MAFIA BOSS’S MOTHER—THEN HIS ENTIRE EMPIRE WATCHED HIM BEG HER TO LIVE

Four hours passed.

The clock on the wall of the surgical corridor ticked with agonizing slowness: 9:00 PM... 10:00 PM... 11:30 PM.

Marco did not move. He stood like an iron statue against the white wall, his hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes fixed on the red operating light.

At 11:45 PM, his phone rang. It was Frank, calling from the South Side.

"Boss," Frank said smoothly. "We found Vasquez. He’s hiding in a safe house near the docks in Gary, Indiana. He’s got ten men with him."

Marco slowly pulled the phone to his ear. The grief and terror that had consumed him for four hours instantly condensed into something dark, absolute, and utterly horrific.

"Frank," Marco said softly.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Don't kill him."

Frank paused over the line. "Boss?"

"Bring him to the basement of the 4th Street warehouse," Marco ordered, his voice flat as granite. "I want him alive when I leave this hospital."

"Understood, Boss."

Marco hung up the phone.

Just then, the double doors of Operating Room 4 clicked open.

Dr. Aris walked out, pulling off his surgical mask. His green scrubs were stained with blood, his face pale and exhausted after five hours of continuous surgery.

Marco stepped forward, his entire frame tense, leaning over the doctor. "Is she alive?"

Dr. Aris took a deep breath. "She is alive, Mr. DeLuca."

Isabella let out a loud, weeping gasp of relief, crossing herself rapidly.

Marco felt his knees go momentarily weak, a sharp, violent surge of air leaving his lungs. "Speak clearly. What is her condition?"

"It is a miracle," Dr. Aris said, shaking his head in disbelief. "The bullet to her shoulder missed the main artery by two millimeters. The round in her hip fractured the bone, but we were able to plate it. The collarbone was shattered, but we reconstructed it. The back bullet went straight through without severing the spinal cord."

The doctor looked into Marco’s blood-smeared face.

"She lost eighty percent of her blood volume," Dr. Aris continued softly. "She is in a medically induced coma in the ICU. The next forty-eight hours are critical for infection control. But... she survived the night."

Marco stood still for three long seconds.

Then he reached out, taking the tired doctor’s hand in a tight, crushing grip. "Thank you."

"She is a very strong young woman, Mr. DeLuca," Dr. Aris said quietly. "She must have something very important to live for."

Marco thought of the raspy voice over her phone: Danny.

"Caruso," Marco called out, without turning his head.

"Boss?"

"Send four cars to St. Jude Rehabilitation Facility on the South Side," Marco ordered smoothly. "Find Danny Carter. Transfer him to the private wing on the tenth floor of this hospital. Give him the best room, the best doctors, and put four guards outside his door."

Caruso nodded instantly. "Consider it done, Boss."

"And Caruso?"