Page 228 of Ricardo

That is my boy.

My hand moves to the back of her head, holding her against me while I look over her shoulder at the closed double doors down the hall.

“He was conscious?” Lorenzo asks quietly.

Julia nods against my chest. “At first. He was talking. Then he—” She stops.

My heart stops with her.

“He what?” I ask.

“He passed out before they got there.”

I only keep standing because she is in my arms and because falling apart is not something I get to do yet.

“Who called it in?” Lorenzo asks.

“I did. Then someone in the hall. I don’t know. People were shouting. I called 911. I tried to call Ricardo, but my hands were—” She looks down again at the dried blood coating her fingers. “I couldn’t get the screen to work. There was blood on everything. A paramedic finally let me use his phone at the hospital.”

I close my eyes for half a second.

The unknown number.

She had called three times, and I had ignored her. Then I had snarled at her.

“Dio,” I whisper.

Julia hears it and starts crying harder. “I’m sorry, Ricardo, I—"

“No.” I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “No. You do not apologize to me.”

Her mouth trembles.

“You do not apologize,” I repeat.

“He was there because of me.”

“He was there because Mario sent him. Because I agreed. Because Dante is Dante.” My throat tightens around his name. “Because he would have chosen it even if we had not asked.”

She knows that.

It hurts her because she knows that.

A nurse approaches from the side, cautious. “Mr. Conti?”

I turn so sharply she stops walking.

Lorenzo steps between us before I can speak.

“This is Dante Conti’s father,” he says. “Do you have an update?”

The nurse nods, eyes moving over Julia, then me, then Lorenzo. “He’s still in surgery. The surgeon will come out as soon as there’s news.”

“That is not an update,” I growl.

The nurse goes pale.

Lorenzo touches my arm once in warning.