Alessandro's POV
The night air clung to a sense of uncertainty as I cradled her trembling form. Hazel's fear reverberated through her every shuddering breath, and the weight of her panic pressed against my chest. I held her close, attempting to soothe her, but her breath became heavy, and panic seized me. It was a feeling I hadn't experienced since the traumatic day my parents met their tragic end before my eyes.
Instructing Luca with urgency, I practically yelled, "To the hospital NOW!" while keeping Hazel tightly against my chest, trying to offer some comfort to her trembling figure. As we pulled into the emergency room, I swung the car door open and rushed out, still holding Hazel. I urgently called for a nurse, and they swiftly brought a stretcher. Just as I placed Hazel down, she started shaking uncontrollably and then went still, her face turning an alarming shade of purple, with barely a breath escaping her.
"What the fuck? DO SOMETHING!!!" I shouted at the nurse, my panic escalating. Bianca appeared, and in a desperate plea, I asked her, "Bianca, help her. I didn't know she was shaking and breathing heavily, and now she is..." I paused, my voice choked with emotion, "Is she dead?" Tears welled up in my eyes as Bianca quickly assessed the situation.
"Take her in, suspected severe panic attack. We need to put her on oxygen and inject her with anti-anxiety meds NOW!" Bianca ordered, her tone urgent. Hazel disappeared into the ER, and I was left standing in the waiting room, the scene triggering haunting memories of the day I witnessed my parents' lifeless bodies.
I sat down and leaned on the chair, my eyes closed.
In a painful flashback, I was 15 years old, accompanying my parents on a trip to the states. My father, Edoardo, a man deeply involved in negotiations and deals, had ensured my training in martial arts, gun handling, and tactical strategies. My mother, Luna, on the other hand, made sure I study psychology and behavior as well as management and marketing providing a balance. I loved that about my parents, they worked together, and loved each other deeply and protected each other. They believed that their work as the leaders of the Italian Mafia is balanced when both men and women are in the decision making. They always complemented each other in business and in personal life.
Our supposed vacation in Texas took an unexpected turn when my parents aimed to strike a deal with the Colombians, involving both business and the potential for danger. I was aware of my father's line of work and the preparation he was putting me through to eventually take over his position.
We entered the dining area where Lucinda, our maid, laid down the plates with the help of my mom and they both sat down to the table while me and dad were leading our guests to their seats. Everyone sat down and food was laid on the table when their business talk started.
The discussion that unfolded between my parents and the Colombian representatives was serious. The room, despite its seemingly casual setting, exuded an air of tension. My father, a master of measured words, exchanged glances with the Colombians, their expressions betraying the gravity of the impending deal. My mother is as graceful as she is, she had sharp observation skills and could read people on the spot. Her business skills were impeccable. Given that she graduated top of her MBA class in Harvard. The ranch, bathed in the warm hues of the Texan sunset, served as a backdrop to a negotiation where every word carried weight.
The Colombians, with their steely gazes and calculated expressions, laid out their terms. My father, calm and composed, navigated the conversation with strategic precision while my mother kept her gaze sharp looking in the eyes of colombians. It was a verbal chess game, each move carefully calculated to secure an advantageous position. As the dialogue unfolded, I observed the intricate dynamics of power and trust, realizing that beneath the surface of diplomatic exchanges, the potential for peril lurked.
The tension in the ranch in Texas was palpable as my father and mother engaged in high-stakes discussions. The atmosphere thickened, and I found myself drawn into a world where alliances were forged with words sharper than any blade. The Colombians, a formidable force, were both business partners and potential adversaries. As a teenager, I witnessed the delicate dance of power and danger, my father orchestrating negotiations with a finesse that belied the peril inherent in such dealings.
The Colombians were satisfied with the terms and signed the agreements laid by my mother in front of them. The head of the Cartel, Pedro, turned to look at me, a smile on his face "One day, my son will be doing business with you. I believe you will make a wonderful leader one day" He then looked at my parents with a gaze of admiration "Rosalia said "Hi" by the way, she apologized as she couldn't come, she is due soon so pray for her". Rosalia was Pedro's Wife and she was in her ninth month pregnant with their first son and was due in a week. My mother with a wide smile on her face patted Pedro's shoulders and responded in a reassuring and stern yet sweet voice " Don't worry Pedro, she will be okay. Now, no more business, go back to your woman, she needs you now". They all started laughing while Pedro put his hands up as surrendering and accepted the suggestion my mom made. He then hugged both my parents and was heading to the exit.
The tranquility of the room shattered when the seemingly calm meeting took a dark turn. Shots rang out, and chaos ensued.