ORTENSIA
I paced back and forth, the tiles under my feet cold and loud with every step. My head was pounding like a drum in a war camp.
Butter…He's allergic to butter… Butter? Of all things. A whole mafia don, feared in four cities and whispered about in five languages, brought to his knees by dairy? It didn't feel real. But the sight of him… red-faced, gasping, shaking was too damn real.
He was upstairs now, lying in bed, still pale but breathing better. Enzo said he had an Epinephrine pen in his jacket pocket. Thank God. Enzo stabbed him with it right before the doctor got here. It bought him time, barely. We were lucky, If that pen wasn't there, if he was even a minute later…
I couldn't finish the thought.
When Doctor Alex finally came down the stairs, I nearly collapse
