Dario
Niccolo called the police and let them know we had a medical emergency.
Five minutes into our trip, a police car with flashing lights pulled out ahead of us on the highway and cleared our path.
At any other time, I would have found it ironic: a police car escorting theCosa Nostra.
But my fear for Alessandra reduced any humor to ashes. I just held her in the backseat and kissed her forehead as she whimpered from the pain.
Rachel had been right: Renzo was an excellent driver. We sped behind the police car at 130 miles per hour and reached Florence in less than 30 minutes.
Inside the city limits, another four police cars joined the first. They all escorted us through the streets of Florence, sirens blaring.
My family had paid our contacts in the police department millions of euros over the years. It was nice to see them come through in our hour of need.
We had to slow down inside the city limits, but we still roared up to the hospital at breakneck speeds.
Niccolo had also called ahead to arrange things. As soon as we pulled up, Dr. Aiello and a small team of nurses were waiting with a wheelchair.
“Hold on,” Lars told me.
I stayed in the car as he got out and looked around.
We hadn’t seen any black Cadillacs the entire way, but Lars was right to be paranoid.
The cops all got out of their cruisers.
They knew who we were. They wouldn’t have been there unless they did.
Which was probably why they kept their distance as Massimo and our foot soldiers hurried over to Alessandra and me.
One of the policemen yelled, “Everything all right?”
“The lady’s gonna be okay, thanks to you guys,” Lars replied in a friendly voice. “You mind sticking around for a while, though?”
The cop seemed puzzled –WHY do we need to stick around? –but he yelled back, “Uh, okay… sure.”
“Thanks.” Lars stooped down so I could see him through the car door. “All clear.”
I helped Alessandra out of the Mercedes and into the wheelchair.
“Thank you for meeting us,” I told Dr. Aiello.
“You’re welcome,” he replied coolly as he watched Massimo, Lars, and the foot soldiers form a protective ring around us.
Alessandra and I had always shown up for her appointments with multiple bodyguards, but today must have seen excessive.
If Dr. Aiello didn’t know what I did before, he certainly knew now.
At least the five cop cars provided a patina of respectability.
One of the foot soldiers got in the Bugatti, and he and the other drivers pulled the cars out of the fire lane and around the hospital to the parking garage out back.
Then Lars, Massimo, the remaining foot soldiers, and I walked with the doctor, nurses, and Alessandra in the wheelchair.
The entire front of the hospital was mirrored glass. I glanced over and watched our group moving as one towards the entrance.
Dr. Aiello asked, “Are you alright, Alessandra?”
