Chapter 37: A Burned man
Carmen’s POV
Nico was much quieter than usual, and even when my gun arrived, I only glanced at it as the guard placed it on the table before leaving. It was small and could easily fit in my purse, and following Nico’s instructions, I quietly continued eating.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what he seemed to be thinking so deeply about. I didn’t want him to pay attention to me, but it was clear that his attention was elsewhere. I found myself glancing at him for what had to be the tenth time in a row—only to be startled when Nico finally met my gaze.
He got to his feet at that same moment, a slight mocking expression on his face as he spoke. "For someone that’s not attracted to me, you stare a lot," he said as he stepped out of his seat and moved toward me. "Are you done?" he asked.
He didn’t have to ask twice. I got to my feet and grabbed the gun beside me.
"Of course," I muttered under my breath, aware that I was too anxious to eat anything else. I needed to know if Gotti was indeed alive—or if whoever was in charge was pretending he was in order to keep the peace.
We headed straight to the car, and Nico pulled open the door for me. I was about to enter when I heard him speak.
"...You don’t have to come with me," he said, indirectly implying that all I had to do was wait, and he would get me all the information I needed. When the time came, I would simply have to pull the trigger.
But I instantly shook my head. "Of course I have to," I responded, getting into the car—but not before catching an almost proud expression on his face.
If he knew anything about me, then he would know there was no way I wasn’t going to pull my own weight.
We both got into the car, and he entered beside me, scooting close—but not close enough for it to be a problem. It didn’t take long before we arrived at the hospital.
I stepped out behind Nico as bodyguards moved to surround us on either side. Nico had changed into a grey shirt with a long coat as he moved ahead, and I carried a small purse with my gun inside as I followed behind him.
We were directed to where we needed to go, and it wasn’t long before we entered the elevator and made our way to the VIP level on the topmost floor of the hospital.
I wasn’t surprised to see Vito, who had just arrived as well and was making his way into the room, his guards waiting outside. The moment he laid eyes on me, he glared furiously, disgust evident on his face.
"What the hell is she doing here? This is Don business," he snapped directly at me.
This time, without waiting for Nico to respond, I snapped back.
Stepping in front of Nico, I spoke, "...And who do you think is the legal owner of my father’s businesses?" I asked, stepping closer to him as I watched his fists ball up at his sides in anger.
He was my height, even though he was more than twice my size. He was plump, with fat lining his face, grey hair, and a balding spot on his head.
His face reddened further when he heard me speak, visible displeasure etched across his features. He scoffed before turning to enter the room, and I followed behind him without fear—Nico close behind me—as we left the guards by the door.
We had just stepped inside when a man—most likely Gotti’s head of security—raised his hands in a placating gesture.
"I would have to check your bodies for weapons," he said, his tone entreating.
I couldn’t give a shit.
I was just about to give him a piece of my mind when a voice snapped loudly from the inner room.
"Let them in, for fuck’s sake! If they wanted to kill me, there are better ways to do it," the man barked—his voice unmistakably Gotti’s.
He was still alive.
And as much as I would have liked to see him dead, it was a truly bad sign for two mafia dons to be killed within the span of three weeks.
We were let in, and I was taken aback by the sight before me—no matter how much I tried to hide it.
Gotti lay on the bed, wrapped in bandages from head to toe, heavy enough to make it clear his injuries were far from minor. The machines beeping around him were far too complex to be routine. It was obvious he would be hospitalized for a while—which was bad, because if someone could set fire to his estate to try to kill him, then they could just as easily target the hospital to finish the job.
Silence settled around the three of us and Gotti, who lay there breathing with the help of oxygen, scowling in anger and pain.
There was a woman by his side, and a younger man whose expression held enough anger and rage for me to immediately recognize him as Gotti’s son—and most likely his heir.
The pervert has a family.
It was something I had expected.
I scanned the young man, who looked around my age or slightly older. Apart from the heated expression on his face, he appeared composed as his gaze slid over me—from my head down—making no attempt to hide the assessing look in his eyes.
"This is my eldest, Forren. He will be overseeing my businesses while I am otherwise indisposed," Gotti said.
No one spoke, allowing him to take his time, which only seemed to irritate him further—especially since, under normal circumstances, we would have been openly insulting each other without a care.
"Save your fucking pity," he spat, fire blazing in his eyes, his tone hoarser than usual. "If they didn’t think I was the biggest threat, they wouldn’t have tried to get rid of me first."
His words were sharp, filled with conviction—but I was tempted to think he was simply the one stupid enough to get caught.
A smirk tugged at my lips as I imagined how furious he would be if he knew—furious enough to have a heart attack.
Maybe he noticed.
His eyes snapped toward me as he frowned deeply, irritation evident.
"What the hell is this whore doing here?" he snapped.
And I snapped right back.
I was a woman—and that alone was already a mark against me. Allowing disrespect to stand would only invite more.
"Watch your tongue, John," I said, his name laced with disgust.
At the same time, Vito spoke.
"Her father gave her everything," Vito said, his tone unusually subdued—which was exactly what I needed, unless Bianca decided to reveal the other half of the truth that would surely get me into trouble.
But why would she?
If she did, it would mean adding another competitor to the list—one that stood against both me and Nico.
Gotti looked at me with complete disbelief—so intense it almost unsettled me. He seemed utterly convinced that there was no way my father could have ever handed his territory over to me.
