Chapter 2 - The Man Who Followed Her to the Hospital
Thomas Mitchell looked smaller in the hospital bed.
That was Sonia’s first thought.
Her father had always been large in memory.
Broad hands.
Loud laugh.
The kind of man who carried refrigerators with neighbors because paying movers seemed ridiculous.
Cancer had reduced him in increments.
First the weight.
Then the hair.
Then the strength.
Now machines.
Emma sat beside him in navy scrubs, still wearing the nursing-school identification badge she had forgotten to remove.
“He fainted in the bathroom,” she whispered.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“I did.”
“My phone was in my locker.”
Emma looked at her.
“You smell like steak.”
Sonia almost laughed.
“Long story.”
“How bad is the restaurant thing?”
“What restaurant thing?”
“It’s online.”
Sonia froze.
Emma handed her the phone.
A video had already spread.
HOMELESS MAN COLLAPSES AFTER MEAL AT FAMOUS MIDTOWN STEAKHOUSE.
Then another clip.
The man standing again.
Police entering.
A blurry image of Dante without the beanie.
Comments flew beneath it.
IS THAT DANTE ROMANO?
MAFIA BOSS GOES UNDERCOVER?
WAITRESS SAVED HIM???
Someone had uploaded a zoomed image of Sonia handing him the napkin.
Her stomach dropped.
“No.”
Emma looked worried.
“What?”
“My face.”
“What about it?”
“It shouldn’t be online.”
She looked toward the door.
Nothing.
No one.
Still, cold fear moved over her skin.
Vinny knew where her family lived.
Now anyone connected to him might know she had warned Dante.
A doctor entered.
He explained Thomas had severe dehydration and a drop in blood pressure after chemotherapy.
No stroke.
No cardiac event.
He would remain overnight.
Sonia finally breathed again.
At 1:12 a.m., she walked to the vending machines.
She bought terrible coffee.
When she turned, a man stood at the end of the hallway.
Dark jacket.
Gray cap.
Looking at her.
She looked away.
Then back.
Gone.
Her pulse increased.
She told herself exhaustion was making her paranoid.
At 1:30, she returned to her father’s room.
A bouquet sat on the windowsill.
White lilies.
No card.
“Who sent those?” she asked.
Emma looked up.
“I thought you did.”
Sonia went cold.
She approached the flowers.
Nothing unusual.
Then she noticed a folded strip of paper beneath the vase.
She opened it.
You should have let him eat.
Her hands started shaking.
Emma stood.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Sonia.”
She folded the paper.
“Call security.”
Emma’s face changed.
“What happened at that restaurant?”
Before Sonia could answer, the hospital-room door opened.
She spun.
Dante stood there.
No torn jacket.
No mud.
No beanie.
Black overcoat.
Dark suit.
No visible weapon.
Two men remained outside.
Emma stared.
“Oh my God.”
Sonia’s fear became anger.
“What are you doing here?”
Dante noticed the flowers.
Then her face.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
He looked at Emma.
Emma pointed.
“She found a note.”
“Emma!”
“What note?”
Sonia held it tighter.
Dante walked toward her.
“Show me.”
“No.”
“Sonia.”
“Stop saying my name like you can give me orders.”
His jaw shifted.
“You’re right.”
That surprised her.
He stepped back.
“May I see it?”
She hesitated.
Then handed it over.
Dante read the message once.
His expression changed.
Not dramatically.
But the warmth left the room.
“Who touched these flowers?”
“I did.”
“Anyone else?”
“Maybe a nurse.”
He turned toward one of the men outside.
“Call Luca. Seal the hospital cameras from midnight forward.”
The man nodded.
Sonia stared.
“You can’t seal hospital cameras.”
“My security company has a contract with this building.”
Of course it did.
“Why are you here?”
Dante looked at Thomas.
“To make sure your family was safe.”
“You followed me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t intended to be.”
Emma whispered, “You’re actually Dante Romano.”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
“The billionaire?”
“Yes.”
“The mobster?”
“Emma,” Sonia said.
Dante almost smiled.
“That depends who writes the headline.”
Thomas stirred.
His eyes opened.
“Sonia?”
She immediately moved beside the bed.
“I’m here.”
He looked at Dante.
Then Emma.
Then back to Sonia.
“Did I die?”
“No.”
“Then why is a funeral director in my room?”
Dante looked down at his black suit.
Emma burst out laughing.
Even Sonia did.
Thomas smiled weakly.
“Good. Still funny.”
Sonia squeezed his hand.
“Rest.”
Dante turned to leave.
Thomas spoke again.
“You.”
Dante stopped.
“You the one from television?”
Sonia sighed.
“Dad.”
“What? I have cancer, not amnesia.”
Dante returned to the bed.
“Yes, sir.”
“You ate garbage?”
“No.”
Thomas nodded.
“Smart.”
“He didn’t because Sonia warned him,” Emma said.
Sonia glared at her.
Thomas looked at his oldest daughter.
Pride replaced fatigue.
“You did?”
“It was nothing.”
“It never is.”
Dante looked at Thomas.
Something passed between the men.
Thomas said, “You owe her.”
Sonia closed her eyes.
“Dad.”
Dante answered seriously.
“I know.”
Thomas nodded.
Then fell back asleep.
Twenty minutes later, Sonia followed Dante into the hall.
“Did you send the flowers?”
“No.”
“I know.”
His eyes narrowed.
“That was a test?”
“I wanted to hear you answer.”
He almost approved.
“Good.”
“Who sent them?”
“We’ll find out.”
“That doesn’t help me tonight.”
“No.”
She crossed her arms.
“Vinny?”
“Possible.”
“You said police took him.”
“They did.”
“So who else?”
“Frankie Bell.”
“The man Marco mentioned.”
“Yes.”
“What does he do for you?”
Dante looked toward the windows.
“He oversees distribution for several legitimate businesses.”
“And illegitimate?”
He looked back.
“Ask me a question you want answered.”
“That is the question.”
He was silent.
Then, “Frankie moves things I did not authorize.”
“That sounds carefully worded.”
“It is.”
“What things?”
“Weapons, possibly narcotics.”
Sonia stared.
“And you’re surprised?”
“Yes.”
“You’re mafia.”
“I’m aware.”
“You expect me to believe you’re morally offended by crime?”
“No.”
That stopped her.
Dante continued.
“I expect you to understand there are lines even men like me draw.”
“Convenient.”
“Sometimes.”
“What lines?”
“No narcotics near schools. No trafficking. No hurting uninvolved families. No using restaurants as distribution points without my knowledge.”
She laughed bitterly.
“That is a strange ethics handbook.”
“It is not meant to impress you.”
“Good.”
He looked at her.
“I grew up watching men destroy neighborhoods and call it business. I inherited an organization built before I was born.”
“So leave.”
His face became unreadable.
“You think it’s that simple?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“But you still choose what you do with it.”
The words landed.
For one second, he looked almost angry.
Then not.
“You sound like my mother.”
“Was she smart?”
“Very.”
“Then take the compliment.”
That almost made him smile.
His phone rang.
He answered.
“Luca.”
Pause.
“When?”
His expression hardened.
“I understand.”
He ended the call.
“What?”
“The hospital cameras caught the flower delivery.”
“Who?”
“Unknown courier.”
“That helps.”
“He arrived in a car registered to a Romano Logistics subsidiary.”
Sonia’s stomach dropped.
“Your company?”
“Yes.”
“So the threat came from inside.”
“Yes.”
Dante looked toward Thomas’s room.
“I’m putting security here.”
“No.”
His eyes returned to her.
“No?”
“My father is not becoming part of your mafia war.”
“He already is.”
“Because of me.”
“No. Because someone chose to threaten him.”
“I won’t have armed men outside his door.”
“They don’t need to be visibly armed.”
“You are impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She stepped closer.
“This is exactly what men like Vinny do.”
Dante’s expression changed.
“Explain.”
“You take someone’s fear and tell them it means you get control.”
Silence.
Sonia continued.
“You may be protecting us. You may actually mean well. But if you make decisions about my family without asking me, you’re just wearing a more expensive suit.”
One of Dante’s men looked away.
Probably to hide a reaction.
Dante remained still.
Then he nodded.
“What do you want?”
The question disarmed her.
“Security cameras outside the room.”
“Already there.”
“One person downstairs. Not outside.”
“Done.”
“No guns near my father.”
“That I cannot promise.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Then concealed. And no one enters his room unless Emma or I approve.”
Dante considered.
“Done.”
“And you stop following me without telling me.”
“That may be difficult.”
“Then try.”
He nodded once.
“Agreed.”
Sonia stared.
“That easy?”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“But you were right.”
She had no answer.
By morning, Thomas stabilized.
Dante left before sunrise.
At eight, Sonia received a call from Lombardi’s.
Not Vinny.
A woman from Romano Holdings.
Every employee would receive full wages for the next two weeks.
The restaurant would remain closed pending investigation.
At ten, Emma left for class.
At eleven, Sonia stepped outside for coffee.
A black SUV waited across the street.
She glared.
The passenger window lowered.
Dante.
He held up both hands.
“I told you.”
“You told me what?”
“That I wouldn’t follow you without telling you.”
“This is your version of telling me?”
“Yes.”
She crossed the street.
“Why are you here?”
He opened the door.
“I found the man who delivered the flowers.”
Sonia’s anger vanished.
“Who?”
“Get in.”
She hesitated.
“You promised.”
“This is not a kidnapping.”
“Comforting.”
“He is alive. In a police station.”
She got in.
The door closed.
Dante handed her a photograph.
A young man.
Maybe twenty-two.
Thin.
Nervous.
Sonia knew him.
Her face went pale.
“That’s Jason.”
“Who is Jason?”
“He works at the pharmacy near my father’s apartment.”
Dante went still.
“What pharmacy?”
“Riverside Specialty.”
The place that filled Thomas’s chemotherapy prescriptions.
Dante’s eyes sharpened.
“How long?”
“Three years.”
He pulled out his phone.
“Luca, check Riverside Specialty Pharmacy. Ownership, suppliers, debt, everything.”
Sonia’s stomach tightened.
“What is going on?”
Dante looked at her.
“I don’t know yet.”
“You always say that right before something gets worse.”
“Unfortunately.”
Her phone rang.
Thomas’s oncology clinic.
She answered.
“Ms. Mitchell?”
“Yes.”
“This is Dr. Patel’s office. We need to discuss an irregularity in your father’s medication records.”
Sonia looked at Dante.
“What irregularity?”
The nurse hesitated.
“There appear to be discrepancies in the batches dispensed over the last two months.”
Sonia stopped breathing.
“What does that mean?”
“We need him back immediately.”
Dante’s face changed as he listened.
Sonia whispered, “Was my father poisoned?”
The nurse did not answer directly.
“We need to run tests.”
Dante reached for the door.
“We’re going back.”
Sonia’s hands began to shake.
The threat had never been only flowers.
Someone had access to her father’s medicine.
And suddenly Sonia understood the cruelest possibility of all.
Vinny had known too much about her family.
May you like
Maybe because he had been given the information.
Maybe because someone had been watching the Mitchells long before Sonia ever slipped Dante Romano a note beneath a steak knife.
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