"He Watched Her Take Five Bullets for His Mother and Then the Most Feared Man in Chicago Fell Apart

By day three, Lena was breathing without the assistance of a tube, though the pain in her chest remained a relentless ache. Marco had not left the hospital floor once, conducting his empire’s bloody business from a secure conference room down the hall.

That afternoon, Caruso entered Lena’s room while Marco was reviewing security footage. Caruso’s face was grim.

"We have a situation, Boss," Caruso said, glancing at Lena before looking back at Marco. "The Russians know she survived. They also found out about the girl's sister before we scrubbed the clinic's records."

Lena’s heart rate monitor spiked, the machine emitting a rapid, shrill warning. She tried to sit up, wincing in agony as her sutures pulled tight. "Maya? What happened? What did they do?"

Marco immediately stood, placing a firm, reassuring hand on Lena’s shoulder, pressing her back into the pillows. "Calm down. Look at me, Lena. Your sister is at my estate. They cannot touch her there."

"They tried to intercept the transport unit two miles from the clinic," Caruso continued. "Our boys handled it—three Russian operatives dead on the street. But one of them had orders on his phone. If they couldn't kill your mother, Mr. Duca, their secondary objective was to leverage Lena's sister to force Lena to poison Isabella."

Lena turned pale, tears finally swelling in her eyes. The reality of the world she had bled for was closing in around her. "They want to use my sister to kill your mother... Oh, God. Maya is just a kid. She's nineteen..."

"Nobody is touching your sister, and nobody is touching my mother," Marco said, his voice dropping into a register that promised absolute slaughter. He turned to Caruso. "Double the perimeter at the estate. I want every available soldier armed and on rotation. We are moving Lena out of this hospital tonight."