Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 4: Chapter 4 Reckless fools.

Upon entering the private hospital, the automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss. The cool air inside was a relief after the blazing heat outside. Daisy took a step forward, her white dress brushing against her knees, her small bag still clutched in her hands.

Then, without warning, Cedric was nearly pushed aside.

A wall of black suits surged past them like a tidal wave. At least a dozen bodyguards moved in perfect formation, their faces hard and their eyes scanning every corner of the hallway. They were clad entirely in black, from their polished shoes to their earpieces to the bulges under their jackets that suggested weapons.

Startled, Daisy reached out and grabbed Cedric’s arm to steady him. Her fingers curled around his sleeve. He did not shake her off.

She looked up and saw the stretcher.

A man was laid on it, surrounded by the bodyguards. She could not see his face clearly because too many bodies blocked the view and there was too much movement, but she could see one thing with terrible clarity.

He was bleeding heavily.

Dark red blood soaked through white sheets. Drops fell onto the sterile hospital floor, leaving a trail like crimson breadcrumbs. The man’s hand hung off the edge of the stretcher, his pale fingers limp, and Daisy saw more blood dripping from his fingertips.

"Move! Get out of the way!" a man shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. He was walking backward in front of the stretcher, clearing the path and shoving nurses and orderlies out of the way. "Everyone step back! Now!"

The hospital staff scrambled to comply. A nurse pressed herself against the wall, her eyes wide. A doctor in a white coat ran alongside the stretcher, trying to assess the wound while walking.

Daisy pressed herself against the wall too. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat.

She heard one of the bodyguards mutter into his earpiece. "Boss took two rounds. Left shoulder and abdomen. We need their best trauma surgeon, right now."

Another bodyguard responded, his voice low and tense. "Our team is ten minutes out. He doesn’t have ten minutes. Find someone here. Anyone who can stop the bleeding."

The stretcher disappeared through a set of double doors. Six of the bodyguards followed, while the remaining six fanned out through the hallway, taking positions near every entrance and exit.

Daisy realized they hated hospitals. She could see it in the way the bodyguards shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting to the ceiling, the corners, and the windows. These were men who were used to controlling their environment, and a hospital was full of unpredictability.

One of them scanned the hallway, then muttered to his partner. "I hate this place. Too many doors. Too many people walking around."

His partner nodded, keeping his eyes on the elevator. "Yeah, well, the boss should’ve let us patch him up in the car."

The first bodyguard shook his head. "And do what about the bullet in his gut? Guess where it is?"

His partner exhaled sharply. "Fair point."

A pause. Then the second one spoke again, quieter. "Hope he doesn’t take this out on us. You know how he gets in hospitals."

The first bodyguard’s jaw tightened. "Yeah. I know."

They fell silent as a nurse walked past, eyeing them nervously before hurrying away.

Daisy looked at Cedric. His face was dark as coal.

His family was number one in Diamond City. They had been for decades. The Evermont name opened every door, bought every silence, and crushed every enemy. Their empire was expanding more and more abroad with new territories, new businesses, and new alliances. Cedric had grown up knowing that no one pushed an Evermont aside. No one dared.

And yet, these bodyguards had nearly knocked him to the floor. They had not even looked at him. They had not apologized or acknowledged his existence.

Cedric’s jaw tightened, and his blue eyes turned colder than Daisy had ever seen. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

Such fools, he thought. Such arrogant, reckless fools.

He wanted to throw them out. One phone call to the hospital director, one mention of the Evermont name, and these bodyguards would be dragged out by security before they could blink. He took a step toward the nearest bodyguard.

Daisy saw the rage building in his posture. She had seen it before, right before he grabbed her chin, right before he locked her in the closet, right before he threw her phone against the wall. She reached out and touched his arm.

Cedric froze.

He looked down at her hand, then at her face.

Daisy shook her head slowly. Her dark eyes were wide and worried. She pressed her finger to her lips, the universal sign for be quiet, be careful, don’t do something you will regret. Then she pointed at the bodyguards, twelve of them, armed and professional, clearly protecting someone extremely dangerous. She pointed at Cedric, alone with no protection and no weapon. Then she made a small flattening motion with her hand, as if pushing something down.

Let it go.

Cedric stared at her for a long moment. His fists unclenched slightly.

He hated that she was right.

Whoever these people were, they were not ordinary criminals. The way they moved, the way they communicated, the way they secured the perimeter, this was military precision. Private military. The kind of security that protected billionaires, cartel leaders, and heads of state. And the man on the stretcher, bleeding heavily and surrounded by armed guards, was clearly someone important.

Someone dangerous.

Cedric took a slow breath. He straightened his shirt, smoothed his hair, and composed his face into its usual mask of cold indifference.

"Fine," he said quietly, not to Daisy but to himself.

He turned away from the bodyguards and walked toward the elevator.

Daisy followed.

As she passed the group of bodyguards, she caught a glimpse of something on the floor. A small pool of blood, smeared where someone had walked through it. She looked away quickly.

The elevator doors opened. Cedric stepped inside and Daisy followed. As the doors closed, she saw one of the bodyguards glance at her. Just a glance, quick and assessing and professional.

Then the doors sealed shut, and they were rising toward Grandpa’s floor.

Neither of them spoke. But Daisy could feel Cedric’s anger simmering beside her like heat from a stove, radiating through the small space of the elevator car.