And Dario bent over Alessandra’s body on the floor.
She had been brutally beaten. The grotesque angle of her left arm suggested it was broken, and her face was a swollen mass of cuts.
But that wasn’t the most frightening thing.
It was the pool of clear liquid, slightly pinked with blood, that crept from the hem of her wet dress across the linoleum floor.
“MY BABY!” she screamed in anguish. “DARIO, MY BABY!”
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Elena Rosolini was born an hour later, at 7:18 PM on October 27.
She was two months premature.
To their immense credit, the doctors and nurses braved the horrors all around them to take care of both mother and child.
Moments after her birth, Elena was transferred to the hospital’s state-of-the-art NICU on the fourth floor. The doctors rated her chances of survival as excellent.
Luckily, she sustained no damage inside the womb during the attack by Cesare Caproni…
But that was because Alessandra had so selflessly protected her unborn child and taken the brunt of the attack on herself.
Alessandra was severely injured. Five broken ribs. Dislocated shoulder. Broken collarbone. Broken radius and ulna of the left arm. Fractured femur. Severe contusions all over her body and face.
But she would live.
After being rushed into surgery and found to have no immediate life-threatening injuries, she was treated for her wounds, sedated, and closely monitored for signs of eclampsia.
So far, she was alright.
The worst was over…
…or at least, we prayed it was.
After the shooting at thePonte Vecchio,Adriano and Massimo evaded the police and rushed directly to the hospital.
Niccolo, Valentino, and Roberto drove from Tuscany even as fire crews worked to salvage what they could of the mansion.
Six hours after Elena’s birth, all of the brothers were in the room with me and Lars…
And all our eyes were on Dario.
The Don stood in front of the window of the NICU, watching his infant daughter – so tiny, so helpless-looking – hooked up to tubes and monitors.
The room was quiet for over ten minutes.
Finally, Niccolo broke the silence.
“Dario… I know this is the worst possible time… but we have to talk about what we’re going to do.”
“Do about what,” Dario asked, his voice dead.
“For one, the police and politicians.”
“What about them.”
“The media are selling everything that happened here and at thePonte Vecchioas a mafia war.”
