Whispers in the Wind

CHAPTER SEVEN

As the sedatives slowly wore off, I became more aware of my surroundings. The relentless beeping of the heart monitor was beginning to grate on my nerves, and the overly bright lights and colorful walls only added to my discomfort.

It had been hours since I arrived. I’d managed to reach Zara at our childhood home, thanks to my mother’s insistence that we memorize the landline number before she disappeared.

“How are you feeling now?” Zara’s voice, laced with concern, pulled me from my thoughts. Her innocent face was etched with worry as she sat by my bedside.

I shifted slightly, trying to alleviate the dull ache that had settled into my ribs. “The painkillers are doing their job,” I said with a weak smile. She squeezed my hand gently.

“The doctor mentioned you have a mild concussion, a bruise on your head and neck, and three broken ribs,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her. “The painkillers are already working. I should be out of here in a few days.”

“You came back after years, only to be attacked. Why are you a target now? Is it because you’re working for someone in the Russo family?” Zara’s voice dropped to a whisper.

I shot her a warning look. “Zara, that information is highly confidential. If it gets out that I’m working for them, it could be dangerous for both of us.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her eyes filled with regret. “But maybe that’s why you were attacked—because you’re involved with them.”

I sighed, my breath shallow and painful. “Think about it. You have valuable information about their company. If word got out…”

“Can I come in?” The door creaked open, and John stepped in, holding my bag from last night. His gaze flickered between Zara and me.

I nodded, and he entered. “Zara told me what happened. How are you holding up?”

“The painkillers make the injuries manageable,” I said, glancing at the bag he held. “You went to my apartment?”

“Yes,” he replied, setting the bag down. “And the attacker?”

“He’s dead,” John said flatly, as though it were a trivial matter. I suppose it was trivial for us, but not for Zara. The horror on her face was palpable.

I shot John a reproachful glance. He cleared his throat and turned to Zara. “The doctor wants to know when Zina wakes up. Please inform him.”

Zara nodded and left the room. John turned back to me. “I’m starting to find you even more dangerous. How did you manage to kill someone with a candelabra while so severely injured?”

I rolled my eyes, and he chuckled. “What did you do with the body?”

“Put it in my trunk, tied it to an anchor, and dumped it in the ocean. We don’t need the police getting involved in any mess involving us again,” he said.

I nodded, struggling to adjust on the bed to lie down.

“Be more careful next time,” John admonished. “He could have killed you.”

I remained silent, focusing on the pain that radiated through me. “We’ll talk more when you’re better. Get some rest,” he concluded.

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**The next morning…**

My eyes flew open at the loud, incessant ringing of my phone on the table beside me. The nurse, who was injecting drugs into the drip connected to my arm, handed the phone over to me. The name on the screen made my eyes widen.

“Miss Aurelius,” he spoke in that chilling deep voice. I was too weak to gauge his tone.

“It is Friday morning, is it not? You are expected to have resumed today. Your day off concluded last night.”

“Gio, I—”

“You are well aware of the immense relevance your availability has concerning your job. I needed my schedule and any arrangements planned for today. Neither have you been answering my emails nor my texts or calls.”

His voice, though evenly composed, was tight with agitation.

“If you had to take care of something, some forewarning would have been ideal. Now, not only are you late, but you’ve also managed to slow down my work and waste four hours of my morning—”

“—I’m sorry, Gio, but I can’t make it to work. I’m in the hospital right now,” I stated.

“I won’t be at work for a few days. I’m sorry for not informing you earlier.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Gio?”

“Which hospital?” he demanded.

My eyebrows furrowed. Would it matter?

“Uh…” My sister walked in then, “Mount Sinai Hospital,” she mouthed.

“Mount Sinai Hospital,” I answered.

“I’ll be there in about thirty minutes,” he said brusquely, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine now. Just being monitored like a lab specimen. You don’t need to come. I’ll send you your calendar and the files you need in a—”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he interrupted, and then he hung up.

I stared at the phone in disbelief. He wasn’t being serious.

I shrugged and took it as a bluff. No way a man as busy and important as him would leave his comfort zone just to see me. It felt absurd.

How was I even going to explain to my sister that my boss—and also the son and lawyer of the feared Russo family—was coming to the hospital? Why was he even coming to the hospital?

I was proved wrong when he stood by the door of my ward exactly seventeen minutes later. He stood there, sucking all the air out of the room with his imposing presence. My sister gaped at him.

You wouldn’t blame her. First of all, most people don’t wear three-piece suits to the hospital. Secondly, Giovanni Russo was a man you’d gape at regardless of the circumstances.

He fixated his gaze on me after introducing himself to my sister, who, once she was done gaping, was staring at me. She mouthed “Oh my god” when Gio turned to speak with the nurse. A stern glare from me quieted her, leaving her only to lean back in her chair and snicker nonetheless.

When Gio turned back to me, I was actively trying to swat at my sister to stop making suggestive faces toward him.

“The doctor says you’ve been finding it hard to sleep and breathe due to the pain and constant headaches. He proposes a rib binder, an incentive spirometer, and a treatment plan. Are you interested?”

To be honest, that was a great idea, except for the fact that healthcare in one of the top hospitals in America would be incredibly expensive. I’ve never been one to care about cost or price. Money has never actually been a problem. But the hospital bill combined with these options Gio suggested would cost me two months of my current salary, if not more.

And if such a large amount of money couldn’t come from my salary, I couldn’t pay for it. The government would be alerted and I’d be under investigation. Again.

“Even if that would be more helpful to my condition, I can’t afford it right now. The hospital bill would already cost more than my current salary for this month. Those additional options are out of my capabilities,” I said. “So I have no other option than to just work with the painkillers and wait for time to work its magic on me. I’m grateful for the concern, though,” I added sincerely and smiled.

“John and Pristine would be able to help, Zee. Let’s ask them. These options will help you get better faster and reduce any complications. You could mistakenly pierce or scratch one of your organs.”

I squeezed her hands and gave her a reassuring smile.

His eyes narrowed on my face. “If costs weren’t an issue, would you go through with the procedure?”

No. He had better not be thinking of doing what I think he wants to do. That would be far too much. It was as though he was having pity on me and my situation.

“I’d want to get better as soon as possible, Gio, but unfortunately costs are a problem.”

I steered a warning stare his way. “Gio, you don’t need to help us with anything. I can manage. I have my family with me, and with enough treatment, I’ll be back in the office by next Wednesday.”

“The best treatment is the appropriate treatment. Consider everything settled.”

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Hello,

Thanks for reading.

Much love my friends.