~ Massimo ~
The heavy door creaked open, and Juliette beckoned for the doctor who had been lingering in the hallway nervously to finally come inside.
The sight of Domino's injury was gruesome.
The deep mahogany of the table was stained with dark patches of red where his hand had rested, and the cuff of his expensive shirt was completely soaked through, turning the crisp fabric into a heavy, wet mess.
The gash itself was raw, the edges of the skin pale and angry, yet Domino looked unbothered, his face showing no sign of the blood loss.
The doctor offered a quick, respectful bow to my father and the rest of us before moving toward Domino.
Juliette hovered right behind her son, her hands resting on the back of his chair like a protective hawk.
"Domino," the doctor whispered, his voice trembling just enough to be noticed. "I must ask you to pause your drinking and put out the cigar, just for a moment. I need to clean and stitch the wound properly."
