Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 286 -

*Olivia*

I'd always hated hospitals. Bleach had to be my least favorite smell in the world, and the hospital always stunk of it. It didn't matter where you went either; they were always the same-white walls and white halls, white floors and white doors. It was like stepping into an endless void of nothingness, where everything was spotless and had to be clean and shiny.

Ever since I was a girl, I'd hated hospitals, and this one was no different.

The waiting room was wide open, and multiple families were inside, with everyone lounging in the chairs and kids playing with the toys in their little corner. The colorful little chairs with thick legs made just for kids were thrown carelessly around the room-most likely by the gaggle of children who were running amok.

I scrunched up my nose as the scent of antiseptic and medicine hit me. It was unpleasant as always.

Despite my discomfort, however, I was thankful to the hospital this time.

"Dahlia's out of surgery," Gabriele said passively. "She's out of danger."

The sheer relief that went through me was enough that I stumbled, nearly falling to one knee if Giovani hadn't caught me in time.

His hands on my waist lingered for a bit as he glanced at me with worried eyes. I nodded at him, smiling to let him know I was okay.

As I did, however, I noticed Tallon's eyes fall to where Giovani was still holding me. A curious look crossed his face, one I had seen before.

It was the look he got whenever he got hooked on an intriguing mystery.

I coughed, stepping away from Giovani as I tried to play off the situation. I ignored the sweat trickling down my back as Tallon's eyes analyzed me and Giovani-little sparks and connections forming in his mind.

He'd always been too observant for his own good. We'd have to be much more careful with him around.

"She was lucky, they said," Gabriele said, crossing his arms. "They stopped the bleeding quickly, and there was no major damage. She was in rougher shape than they first thought, however."

"Besides getting shot?" I asked, my mind going to the worst possible alternatives. What if they'd done more than just kidnapped her?

Just the thought of Dahlia going through something like that made me sick to my stomach. There was no way. They couldn't be that cruel, could they?

Something must've shown on my face because Tallon stepped forward, shaking his head. "No, she didn't... there wasn't...." He trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how to word it.

"There was no sign of sexual assault." Gabriele said it as bluntly as possible.

I breathed a sigh of relief, happy to hear that at least that wasn't a concern. But then what had they done to her?

"But she's been beaten quite a bit." Tallon stepped forward, his hands clenched firmly by his side. His mouth was twisted up in anger, and I knew why. "Those bastards fractured her ribs and broke her wrist-defensive wounds, they said." "She put up a hell of a fight," Gabriele nodded, a hint of approval shining in his eyes.

I huffed. I would've preferred that she'd been obedient if it meant she came out of this unharmed. But for Dahlia, that was next to impossible.

I smiled sadly, shaking my head at what kind of horrible prisoner she must've been, probably demanding lemonades or cussing them out any chance she got. The thought was one that actually managed to bring a smile to my face. "She probably drove them crazy," I said fondly.

Tallon cracked a smile before it faded away. "But she still got hurt. If we had gotten there sooner-"

"No," Giovani pinned him with a stare. "There is no point in thinking of ifs, ands, or buts. We got her back, she's safe, and she can recover now. Those bastards we caught will lead us right to Dmitri, and we can all move on. We each did the best we could."

Tallon swallowed and then sighed, his shoulders slumping as he nodded in response.

"The doctor said she's going to take a lot of time to recover, and there will be a lot of pain," Tallon said softly. "But she's going to be okay."

"Thank goodness," I sighed with relief. "Did they say when we can see her?"

Tallon shook his head, the frustration clear on his face as he said, "She still hasn't woken up."

"But they said they'd tell us when she does," Gabriele added.

"Okay." I nodded, taking the nearest seat. This wasn't the best possible outcome, but she was safe. She was going to be okay.

I was going to get my best friend back.

"So," Gabriele started, turning his deadpan eyes onto Giovani, "where is my Pop-Tart?"

"Ah," Giovani nodded and grabbed the duffle bag he had taken inside with him. He'd filled it while I was getting dressed, though he wouldn't tell me what was in it.

He reached in and plucked a small silver packaging from the bag and threw it over to Gabriele.

Gabriele nodded, opening the wrapping and the smell of frosted pastry wafted through the air. A few kids in the waiting room halted their activities, turning to us with hungry looks. They looked like bloodhounds who had caught onto the scent.

"Here, get changed." Giovani threw the rest of the bag at Tallon, who caught it in mid-air with a frown.

"Clothes?" Tallon questioned, pulling a T-shirt from the bag. "These aren't mine."

"Didn't have time to replace your luggage." Giovani shrugged. "Take what you can get, unless you want to go back to the compound to take a shower."

"No, this is fine," Tallon sighed, then he excused himself to head to the nearest restroom.

Gabriele took a bite of his Pop-Tart and froze. His eyes narrowed as he chewed and swallowed and then glanced down at the sugary sweet pastry in his hand.

"This isn't cherry. It's strawberry," Gabriele said before glaring up at Giovani. "I specifically said cherry."

"It was red and fruity," Giovani shrugged. "What's the difference?"

Gabriele's eyes darkened dramatically, and warning bells shot off in my mind.

"Maybe they have cherry ones in the cafeteria. You could ask," I suggested with a polite smile. I had no idea Italians even ate boxed pastries. But I did have lots of practice with diffusing arguments before. Dahlia and Alessandro were both loud and opinionated, and Tallon knew just how to rile them up.

Gabriele glared at Giovani for only a minute more before sighing in defeat. "I need a coffee, anyway," Gabriele muttered under his breath.

"Get me one too while you're at it," Giovani said smoothly as he took the seat beside me. He was utterly shameless as he ignored Gabriele's glare.

"This is why they call you a demon to work for." Gabriele crossed his arms unhappily. "You're a menace to society."

"And you're still getting paid." Giovani shot him a cheeky grin. "So hop to it, Mr. Underling. You want anything, Olivia?"

My mouth dropped as Giovani glanced at me, a smirk on his lips.

"Uh," I glanced at Gabriele, not wanting to trouble him, but I did want some coffee to stay awake. "Frappuccino with two shots of caramel? Please?"

Gabriele just sighed, taking another bite of his disappointment of a Pop-Tart before he turned on his feet. Before he made it any further, however, Tallon came rushing back in fresh new clothes.

He looked better and must've done a quick rinse of his hair since it was still wet. He didn't seem to mind as he took the seat on my left.

"Where you going, Gabe?" Tallon frowned, catching sight of the annoyed look on Gabriele's face.

"Coffee run. Want anything?" Giovani asked, not even looking up from his phone.

"Of course! Peppermint mocha if they have it," Tallon started, but then frowned. "But then again, it's not in season right now, just a caffe mocha then."

As Gabriele slunk away, biting into his strawberry-not-cherry Pop-Tart, I felt bad for him. Maybe he was right. Maybe he really was working for a demon, even though said demon was sitting to my right, and I had been sleeping with said demon for a while now.

Whoops.

I settled back into the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room and shut my eyes. There was a TV playing in the background-some news broadcast about a charity set up by middle-schoolers.

It was entirely in Italian, so I could only understand bits and pieces of it. Tallon shifted to my left, sighing to himself as I heard him start up a game on his phone.

I was overly aware of Giovani's presence to my right, trying not to give away any kind of details with Tallon here and watching us. I couldn't imagine what would happen if Tallon found out. I still hadn't told Dahlia.

But all of that had to wait now. The first priority was taking care of Dahlia. No doubt she'd be traumatized from this incident-I knew I would be.

Even as strong as she was, being kidnapped for over forty-eight hours, held at gun-point and beaten, and getting shot on top of it all was bound to have hurt her greatly.

It was my job to be there for her, to help her out of this mess.

We still didn't know what had happened to Lorenzo or Adrian, and from what it sounded like, the people who did this weren't done yet. They could try something again.

I still felt guilty for leaving her by herself, even if it was what she had wanted. I should've stayed. Well, I'd never leave her side from now on.

She'd always been there for me. Now, it was my turn to do the same.

"Fuck," I heard Tallon mutter on my left.

I jolted out of the trance I'd been in, snapping to attention. Tallon was staring in the distance with wide eyes. He looked ready to bolt out of his seat. "Tallon?" I asked, quietly.

"This isn't good." Giovani sighed to my right, and I whirled to turn on him.

The two of them looked like they had seen something troubling-something that they'd rather not deal with at the moment.

Giovani grimaced as he got to his feet, and that was when the loud booming voice rang across the lobby.

"Where the fuck is my sister?"

I paled in my seat, my eyes slowly turning toward the entrance to the waiting room. Standing there like a bull ready to charge was a very tall, very angry Italian man.

With curly brown hair and a temper that could burst into flames at any moment, I knew exactly what Tallon and Giovani were worried about now. A major problem had arrived. And said major problem was heading straight for us, glowering like he had spotted the enemy on the other side of the trenches of war.

Alessandro had arrived.