Chapter 6 - THE GATHERING STORM
The fragile peace lasted for exactly two weeks.
Spring in New Orleans brought heavy humidity and sudden squalls that rattled the wrought-iron balconies of the French Quarter. Iris was finishing her shift at the hospital, reviewing post-operative EKGs for Gia, when her phone buzzed on the nurses' station desk.
An unknown number.
She swiped to answer.
“Dr. Delaqua?” A cold, unfamiliar voice spoke through the speaker. It sounded raspy, mechanical, like a man speaking through a damaged throat.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“Tell your new friend, Signor Mancini, that the debt collectors from Palermo have arrived in the bayou. Tell him that keeping the girl safe in a hospital won't stop the fire from spreading to his friends.”
Iris’s blood ran cold. “What are you talking about? If this is a joke—”
“It’s not a joke, Doctor. You’ve tied yourself to a monster. When the house burns down, don't say you weren't warned.”
The line went dead with a sharp click.
Iris stared at the screen, her heart hammering against her ribs. Without a second thought, she grabbed her coat, tossed her stethoscope into her bag, and ran toward the elevators. She needed to get to Gia’s room immediately.
As the elevator doors opened on the fourth floor, she saw the warning signs before she even reached the room.
Two of Salvatore’s armed guards, men she had never seen before in the hospital corridors, were standing outside room 412 with their hands resting beneath their suit jackets, their faces carved from granite. Down the hall, a nurse was backing away slowly, looking terrified.
Iris rushed forward.
“Step aside,” Iris demanded, her voice cutting through the sterile corridor.
The larger guard blinked, recognizing her, and gave a stiff nod. He pushed the heavy wooden door open for her.
Inside, Salvatore was standing by the window, his phone pressed to his ear, his face darker and more lethal than Iris had ever seen it. Gia was sitting up in bed, looking bewildered and frightened by the sudden tension in the room.
“Marco, trace that routing number now,” Salvatore snarled into the phone before snapping it shut and tossing it onto the bedside table.
He turned, seeing Iris standing in the doorway, breathless and wide-eyed.
“You heard,” Salvatore stated, not a question.
“A man called my personal phone five minutes ago,” Iris said, walking straight past him to check Gia’s monitors. All vitals were stable. Good. She turned back to Salvatore, anger overriding her fear. “They’re coming for you, Salvatore. And they know I’m connected to you.”
“I know,” Salvatore said, stepping closer to her, his voice dropping into a fierce, protective register. “Which is why you are leaving this hospital tonight under armed escort.”
“I’m not running,” Iris snapped, crossing her arms over her white coat. “This is my hospital. That is my patient. And you brought your war right to our doorstep!”
“I didn't ask for this war!” Salvatore shouted, the long-repressed fury finally breaking through his control. He slammed his hand against the wall beside her head, stopping just short of touching her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his dark eyes locked onto hers with a desperate intensity. “I built a wall around her to keep her safe! But the moment you walked into my life, Iris, my enemies realized I had something else to lose. They know about you!”
The silence in the room became absolute. Gia watched them with wide, intelligent eyes from the bed, clutching Cornelio tightly.
Iris didn't flinch away from his hand on the wall. She looked up into his tormented face, seeing the exact moment his anger dissolved into sheer, unadulterated terror—not for himself, but for her.
“Then don't fight them alone,” Iris whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
May you like
Salvatore stared at her, the fight draining out of him, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion. Without thinking, he reached out, his large, calloused hand cupping the side of her face, his thumb brushing gently across her cheekbone.
“I spent my whole life protecting people by keeping them away from me,” Salvatore murmured, his voice thick with a raw, long-buried longing. “With you... I don't know how to let go.”
