Don Bowed To Me Chapter 27
The carved wooden doors of the Great Hall swung shut behind us, and Sebastian and I got into the car heading for the Marchetti estate.
His blood was still seeping through the silk scarf.
I grabbed his wrist.
“Hospital first.”
“No need.”
He glanced down at his arm.
“There’s a private physician at the estate.”
When the Escalade turned onto Ocean Drive, I saw that every light in the Marchetti compound was on.
I’d never seen this many lights burning at once.
Sebastian straightened in his seat.
“Nonno’s waiting for us.”
“This late?”
“Yes. Something must be going on.”
The car pulled up in front of the Marchetti manor.
The moment we stepped into the main hall, I spotted Don Salvatore seated in that dark leather armchair beside the fireplace.
He wore a charcoal velvet robe, but clearly had no intention of sleeping.
On the other side of the fireplace stood another man.
Mid-fifties.
Stocky build, heavy brow ridge.
Those eyes—nearly identical to Matteo’s.
Vincenzo Marchetti.
Don Salvatore’s second son. Matteo’s father.
And the current underboss of the Marchetti family.
He hadn’t shown up at Matteo’s wedding six months ago.
Sebastian had told me later.
Vincenzo had been paving the way for his son since Matteo was fourteen.
He wanted Matteo to become the next head of the Marchetti family.
Now here he stood.
Staring at me without a trace of emotion.
Sebastian helped me out of my coat.
“Nonno.”
Don Salvatore’s gaze fell on the scarf wrapped around his arm.
His brow creased slightly, but he didn’t ask what had happened.
He simply looked at me.
“Dr. Vitale, please sit.”
The moment I sat down, Vincenzo spoke.
“Father.”
His voice was deep.
“You called me back from Boca Raton at this hour. For what?”
Don Salvatore didn’t answer.
He looked at me.
“Dr. Vitale.”
“I already know what happened tonight at Newport Prep.”
“Sebastian declared publicly in the Great Hall that from tonight onward, you are under the protection of the Marchetti family.”
His gaze rested on my face.
“Once those words are spoken before the family, they cannot easily be taken back.”
Then he turned to his second son.
“Vincenzo.”
“Do you have something to say?”
Vincenzo slowly stepped away from the fireplace.
He stood before the long table.
“I do.”
He looked at me.
“Quite a lot.”