Savio
Romeo was contorting on the ground, and the blood had poured all along the church floor, staining the carpet. I held his hand as my father tried to deal with the wound. He was refusing to get Romeo any medical attention, and I didn’t know why. He had a goddamn bullet hole in his chest—he needed doctors. Angelo refused and wouldn’t relent.
Romeo stared up at the ceiling, his lips thin as the blood left the wound in his torso. He was yelling out in pain, and his hand held mine in a vice-like grip.
“Can’t believe this shit,” my father said, peering from Romeo to me.
Angelo was busy trying to tend to Romeo’s wound. I clenched my jaw, my hand losing feeling as Romeo breathed heavily next to my knees. A silence seemed to seep into the space between us. I wished none of it would have happened. I didn’t want to believe it. Gianni was alive? What did that mean for the Bonifacios? I knew my father must have felt some semblance of regret for what he’d done. Lucia, after all, had managed to win over Romeo’s heart. She’d been taken away by the very person who had caused so much destruction in not only our lives but the lives of our rivals.
Alessandra had gone with Chiara, and they had run to the back. I wished I could help her, but my brother came first. She was in emotional turmoil, but Romeo was dying. The choice was obvious. I just hoped she wouldn’t hate me for it.
“Go find me something hot,” my father said, staring down Natalia, who was standing off toward the pews with her hands over her mouth. “Get a knife and heat it.”
I pushed myself from the ground and up onto my feet. I scoured the area, searching for something we could use. I grabbed the pocket square from my front pocket and pressed it against Romeo’s wound. My father was pacing back and forth, unwilling to believe what was going on. I couldn’t blame him. It was a travesty that Gianni had gone behind our backs. We weren’t a united front, after all.
Chiara and Alessandra came out from the back room and made their way into the hall. I avoided their eyes and simply focused on Romeo. I couldn’t handle that he wasn’t okay. Romeo’s face had grown pale, and I could see that the girls were still visibly upset as they watched from the back of the room.
“Father. Father, we have to get Lucia back,” Romeo said, his voice quivering. “The situation is worse than you know.”
I brought my eyes to his face as I applied pressure to the wound, doing my best to make sure he didn’t bleed to death. Please, I just wanted him to stay alive. I just wanted him to be okay. The look on his face was so distressing. He was in pain on every level a human could feel it at that moment, and I was beginning to understand.
“How could it be worse than this?” my father asked Romeo with fury in his tone as though he was unaware that his son was bleeding profusely. My father’s reaction to the situation made my stomach churn.
“Because the next generation of our legacy has already begun. My bride is carrying my child.”
I felt my stomach drop as though stones had been placed there. I heard the girls audibly gasp behind me as I placed the candle on the ground near my father. All of us were in shock. The news had been kept from us all, and it wasn’t only Lucia’s life that was on the line. It was also the life of the heir to our family name. That was one thing I knew my father wouldn’t stand for. I lowered my eyes to where he was sitting next to Romeo and, despite the chaos, could see his expression shifting. He was enraged.
“Here. Use these,” I said and turned to Romeo. “Don’t worry. We’ll get Lucia back. Marcello’s on his way to get her.”
Romeo inhaled as blood trickled from the side of his mouth. “I can’t bear the thought of him hurting her.”
My father pressed down against Romeo’s chest and gestured toward the candle. “Don’t think about that. Just look at me, and we’ll get through this. Marcello better fucking pull through.”
The girls ran off toward the back of the church, and I saw their brother leaving with them. In the back of my mind, I desperately hoped that they wouldn’t do anything stupid. The last thing I needed was to worry about them running off and my father hunting them down. Even if Gianni was still alive, my father would consider them his property. There was no running away from a man who thought he owned everything and had unlimited resources at his disposal.
My father was glaring at me as I watched Natalia approaching. They were going to sear Romeo’s wounds. I winced at the thought of the pain he would go through. I opened the buttons of his shirt completely, exposing his bloodied chest. I bit my lip as she neared and prepared for the worst. I was glad the girls had left. They didn’t need to see it done.
“You all stay in your seats!” my father yelled suddenly, peering at those who were fleeing the scene. In an instant, the crowd grew silent, and the church filled with an even heavier tension, which was something I hadn’t thought possible.
I was simply doing my best to help with Romeo’s wound.
“They don’t need to stay,” Romeo grunted, somehow managing to stay conscious.
I shot Romeo a look. “Don’t, Romeo.”
“No,” Romeo said, barely able to breathe. “Don’t make them stay. Let them go. This day should end here. We simply need to get myfarfalla, Lucia, back. I don’t care about the wedding.”
My father’s face grew red, and I knew that Romeo had overstepped his boundaries. Even in his state, he was causing my father to become overwhelmed in his own anger. I was shocked that he could become frustrated when his son and heir was bleeding out on the floor. Even then, he was too busy being worried about his own self-image. It was about the crowd, not his son’s wishes.
“Listen to your brother, Romeo. The people will stay,” my father said, his voice low, and his tone harsh. “They will be witnesses once Lucia gets back.”
“No, Father, they should go. I don’t want them here.”
My father brought his hand to Romeo’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground. “You listen to me,” he said, his face deepening in color. “They will stay, and you will complete the ceremony.”
I kneeled back away from them, unsure of what to do. I knew better than to get between them, but my father had no right to hurt Romeo when he was already down. I felt the need to push him away. I was, however, fully aware of the audience watching. No one was stepping in.
I fell back the moment Romeo pushed against my father. Blood leaked from his wound all the more as he forced my father back, his eyes darkened with frustration. Romeo was hurting. It wasn’t something that was merely from the wound. No, he was growing desperate. It was a mix of fear and anger. I sat on the ground, watching as his hands made contact with my father’s chest. There was an audible grunt, as well as the gasps from the crowd, which all seemed to echo against the walls of the massive church.
