Chapter 4
710words
As he stepped into the banquet hall, his hawk-like gaze swept the room, finally landing on me—held up by two Soldati—and then on Mia, lying motionless on the ground, her life hanging by a thread.
At that instant, I saw a world-ending fury ignite in Papa's eyes.
"You are…" Lorenzo stammered, his legs giving out. "D-Don Corleone?"
Papa didn't even spare him a glance. He walked straight to me and looked into my eyes.
At that moment, words were redundant. The two Soldati holding me were paralyzed with terror. Their hands fell away, and I crumpled to the floor.
Papa's Soldati immediately moved in, flanking me and hoisting me gently to my feet.
Papa dropped his cane and scooped Mia's limp body into his arms, roaring at the medical team behind him, "If you don't bring her back, you will all be buried alongside her!"
The medics moved with frantic speed—intubating, injecting, shocking her heart back to life.
Papa turned back to me and stripped off his overcoat, draping it over my shivering shoulders. With the same hands that had ordered the deaths of thousands, he reached out, his fingers trembling as he wiped the blood from my face.
"I'm sorry, Elena. I'm so sorry I'm late."
His voice cracked, thick with bottomless regret.
I leaned into his chest, my fingers shaking as I pointed at Lorenzo and Sophia, who were now huddled on the floor.
"Papa, it was them! They killed Mia! I want to make them suffer for every single second they have left!"
It had all happened too fast. Lorenzo sat there, paralyzed by shock.
His entire world had shrunk to the old man standing amidst the smoke—Vito Corleone—a name whispered like a ghost story in the dark; a Don whose very shadow made the underworld tremble.
At that moment, Papa was holding the little girl Lorenzo had cast aside as a bastard, his face etched with a grief he had never shown the world.
The frantic shouts of the medical team jolted Lorenzo back to reality.
He watched as elite emergency medics fought desperately for Mia's life. A long endotracheal tube was forced down her tiny throat. The shrill whine of the defibrillator charging sounded like a countdown to death.
"Beep—"
The heart monitor flatlined, emitting a long, continuous drone.
Lorenzo's heart lurched. Dead? That little girl who used to call him "Papa" in her soft voice, who smeared drool on his expensive suits… Was she really dead?
Buried memories flickered through his mind. There was a time when he had loved her without reservation. They had shared so many beautiful moments together.
But that little girl was gone.
An indescribable hollowness washed over Lorenzo. But in the very next heartbeat, that void was filled with primal terror.
Papa turned his head slowly. His aged eyes were vividly bloodshot.
"Seal the perimeter," he commanded. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chill that froze the blood in everyone's veins. "No one leaves this room."
Dozens of black muzzles leveled in unison, locking onto every person in the banquet hall with lethal intent.
The guests who had just been watching, jeering, and joining Sophia in mocking me were now collapsing on the floor. The acrid stench of urine began to mingle with the smell of cordite and smoke as several people lost control of their bladders in sheer fright.
Sophia's queenly demeanor had shattered into nothing. She tried to scramble behind Lorenzo, only to find that he could barely stay upright.
"D-Don… Don Corleone…" Lorenzo stammered, forcing out a smile from the pure survival instinct of a Capo. "This is all a misunderstanding. I had no idea she was your—"
"A misunderstanding?"
Papa repeated the word with quiet contempt. Then he raised his cane. The silver lion-head handle caught the light, cold and merciless.
Without wasting a breath, he slammed the cane down onto Lorenzo's kneecap with a sickening crack. The sound of splintering bone echoed through the hall.
Lorenzo let out a soul-piercing scream. His right leg buckled, and he collapsed to his knees. Now, he was kneeling in front of me, the woman he had treated like trash only minutes before.
