"EASY NOW," JULIAN muttered as Marcus sat up on his plane seat.
Marcus snorted. His left arm was cradled in a sling that went around his neck. "I'm not sick," he said. "I'm fine, stop treating me like I'm 6 years old."
Luckily for him, they had found a doctor was had taken care of the gunshot wound. He had cleaned, stitched it up, and wrapped it in a sling before they boarded the private jet hack to New York. It had not been a comfortable 9 hours for Marcus. After popping several sleeping pills to ease the pain, their plane finally touched down in New York City.
A black limousine was waiting on the runway for them. Marcus and Julian transferred into the limo and they were driven to the Salvatore estate.
Vittorio was waiting in the living room when they arrived. His face did not rev
