That was almost more than Emmanuelle could take in. Miceli was Giuseppi’s brother and Valentino’s uncle. And an auction for young girls? Did he mean Miceli was selling young girls? What the hell was going on? She had to concentrate on saving Valentino. He’d lost too much blood. The wounds didn’t look like they were in bad places, only that he’d lost so much blood he could be bleeding out.
“Is Giuseppi armed?” She stuffed the shirt into the worst of the wounds and pressed down as hard as she could.
“Yes. And I am as well.” He lifted the gun in his hand.
“Does Giuseppi need medical care?” Not once had she taken her gaze from Val’s body, trying to assess exactly how bad he was.
Stefano strode into the room, ignoring Dario who spun around, gripping his Glock and nearly landing on his ass. Her brother went straight to the other side of the bed, his gaze moving over Val, and then ripped back the sheet to begin stripping off his bloody trousers.
“Dario? Is Giuseppi wounded? Are you?” Emmanuelle persisted.
“The old man is fine. I took a couple of hits. Nothing major.”
Stefano glanced over his shoulder. “That’s why you look a little gray and nearly fell on your ass when I walked in. Sit down.”
Few people disobeyed Stefano when he used that tone, but just in case, Emmanuelle wanted to reassure Dario. He was set on guarding Giuseppi and Val.
“My entire family will be showing up, and they’ll be armed to the teeth. They’ll make certain no one gets to them, Dario. Just sit down.” Inside she was chanting Hurry, hurry, hurry, much like Dario had been doing.
Vittorio was next, striding in, and with him were Enzo and Enrica, two of their cousins and bodyguards. They were carrying trays of items. Vittorio had a home on the lake and lived close. He had a small medical unit there and thankfully had many of the things they needed to start the lifesaving process for Valentino.
It was Vittorio who put the IV into Val’s vein, not Emme. Her hands were shaking too badly. Fortunately, their surgeon lived on the lake as well. Stefano had sent a car for him and his team. He was on retainer, paid enough that he came, no questions asked.
While they set up for surgery in the master bedroom, Enzo and Enrica began to unload weapons from the trunk of the car and bring them into the house. They found the main security room and turned on the cameras. Ricco and Mariko arrived next, and Mariko immediately went into the bedroom to help the nurses with Dario. Emmanuelle was sent out under protest.
“Baby, what’s going on?” Giovanni turned up, circling her waist with his arm.
“I’m not certain. Dario sent me an SOS, so I came here. Valentino’s been shot several times. Giuseppi’s in the other room. I’m going to go check on him now. He’s probably very concerned about Val. It looks as if Miceli tried a takeover.”
“Can we expect that his men will show up here to try to finish the job?” Giovanni asked.
“I don’t know.” She didn’t. She didn’t want to be away from Val, but she wasn’t of any use in the surgery room. She wasn’t the nurse or doctor type. She was more the assassin type. “But we should be prepared, just in case.”
She walked quickly down the hall to the closest guest room and knocked on the door before calling out, “Giuseppi? It’s Emmanuelle. Dario called me. May I come in? My brother Giovanni is with me.”
She listened for movement. Giuseppi was older. He and Greta, his wife, had adopted their nephew, Valentino, when his parents had been killed. They’d never had children of their own, and they clearly loved Val. She knew they did. Greta had adored him, and Val had reciprocated that feeling, but then Greta had been easy to love. Both Giuseppi and Valentino were mourning her death from cancer.
“Come in, Emme,” Giuseppi called out. His voice sounded stressed, but he also sounded like the Giuseppi that had ruled an empire for decades. He might have been down, but he wasn’t out. His brother had tried to kill him, but worse, Miceli had tried to kill his son.
Emme made certain to keep her body in front of Giovanni’s. As she came through the door, she could see Giuseppi sitting in a leather chair in front of a gas fireplace, the chair turned toward the door. He had a blanket over his lap, but the gun was on top of the blanket and pointed directly at her.
She ignored the gun and went straight to him, her relief at seeing him alive shocking her. Tears burned behind her eyes. “He’s still alive, Giuseppi,” she whispered, as she hugged him. “Stefano and Vittorio are with him. They brought a surgical team. Dario’s wounded. They’ll work on him, too. I didn’t see how bad Dario was. He refused to even sit down until we had Val prepped for surgery.”