Chapter 4

Seven Years in Hell: Escaping the Don Chapter 04

They must be auditory hallucinations. Just my brain misfiring from oxygen deprivation. 

The man who’d just shoved me into the path of a bullet would never cry over a disposable blood bag. 

I let my eyes fall shut, plunging completely into the dark. 

By the time I clawed my way back to consciousness, three days had passed. The morphine left my limbs heavy. 

Over by the window, Don Vincenzo sat in a wingback chair, 

resting both hands on his silver–tipped cane.