Russo Blood DebtChapter 3

Marino runs into the nurse's station and starts ripping open cabinets.

Empty. Empty. Empty.

"Hemostats — anything — gauze —"

A nurse whispers, "It's all upstairs. Mr. Russo's orders. Everything goes to Mrs. Bianca."

He punches the cabinet. His knuckles split.

He turns to me, and he's crying.

"Mrs. Russo. I'm sorry. I have nothing —"

Gia pats his shoulder.

"Don't beat yourself up, doc. She hasn't even delivered yet. As soon as Bianca's done, the equipment comes back down." She glances at my belly. "And honestly? Even if the baby doesn't make it — it's a girl. The Family doesn't lose anything."

I lift my head off the floor.

I look her in the eye.

I use the breath I've been saving.

"Animal."

Her smile drops.

She crouches down. Puts her mouth right next to my ear. Lowers her voice so only I hear.

"Curse all you want. After tonight you'll be too weak to lift a glass. Bianca's taking your seat. Dante keeps you alive as a maid because he's sentimental. Be grateful."

She straightens up. Beautiful again.

Marino can't take it.

"Miss Gia, this is murder —"

"Murder?" She laughs. "Doctor. Women die in childbirth all the time. It's tragic." She turns to the soldiers behind her. "Take Dr. Marino somewhere quiet. I'll watch cara myself."

They drag him out. He's fighting them, twisting back to me, shouting —

"Mrs. Russo — press here — above the ankle bone, hard — it can bring the contractions back — don't give up —"

The door slams.

Gia turns the lock.

Pulls out her phone.

FaceTime.

"Fratellone — your wife's about to deliver. Want to watch?"

Dante's face fills the screen. He's outside Bianca's OR. Behind him, doctors in scrubs sprint past.

"Sera, not now. Bianca's heart rate is dropping. The baby's in distress."

Gia tilts the camera at me. The blood. The dress. The floor.

"Look how much she's bleeding, fratellone. I think she might die."

Dante glances. Looks away.

"Tell her to hold on. The doctor comes down when Bianca's done. Cara, I can't leave."

The screen goes black.

Gia pockets the phone and shrugs.

"Hear that? In his heart, Bianca comes first. You're a brood mare, amore. The mare doesn't outlive her foal."

I close my eyes.

She thinks I've given up.

My right hand slides behind me, finds the inside seam of my dress. My father stitched a button in there the day before the wedding.

Sera. The Russos are deep water. If anything goes wrong, press this.

I'd laughed at him. Papa. Dante loves me.

I dig my thumbnail under the cap.

I press.

No light. No sound.

But my father's soldati are thirty minutes out. Maximum.

Thirty minutes.

I look down at my belly, where my daughter is fighting to be born and dying in the trying.

Hold on, baby. Hold on for Mama.