American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 81 Santino Antonio

The doctor at the Continental Hotel treated John's bruises and abrasions under the bright lights of the villa.

The elderly Eastern doctor had white hair and a white mustache that trembled slightly with his movements. He opened his medicine box, took out various medicines, and skillfully bandaged John's wound.

Beta took off her shirt, revealing her well-defined upper body, and turned to show her back to the doctor: "Doctor, how do I treat the bruises on my back? I don't need painkillers, but ice packs aren't working."

The doctor, wearing reading glasses, leaned closer to examine the wound and adjusted his glasses: "It's just subcutaneous bleeding and blood pooling caused by a heavy impact."

He pointed to one of the red marks: "What's this obvious handprint?"

Beta turned her gaze to Matilda, who was curiously rummaging through the doctor's medicine box: "I'm afraid we'll have to ask her about that."

Upon hearing this, Matilda turned her head, made a face at Beta, and then continued to examine the bottles and jars in the medicine box as if nothing had happened.

"Since you don't want painkillers, try this instead." The doctor said, taking a small red bottle from the medicine box and spraying it onto the bruise on Beta's back. He then rubbed the wound repeatedly with his palm.

Beta immediately felt a cooling sensation penetrate her skin, and the pain from the bruises significantly lessened: "It works well, what kind of medicine is this?"

"Yunnan Baiyao," the doctor replied.

"Leave me two bottles," Beta ordered from the doctor. This spray was very useful for someone like him who often bumps and bruises himself.

Matilda, who was standing nearby, curiously picked up the small red bottle, brought it close to her nose, but was choked by the strong smell of medicine and coughed several times. She quickly put the bottle back in its place.

"Ding dong! Ding dong!"

The crisp doorbell rang.

John and Beta turned at the same time, looking warily towards the doorway. Their eyes met, and Beta, understanding, turned to Matilda and said, "Give the doctor the gold coins."

Then he looked at the doctor who was packing his medicine box: "I think we'll end today's consultation here."

The doctor nodded knowingly: "Of course."

He quickly packed the medicines and equipment into the medicine box and locked it. Matilda placed a gold coin in the doctor's outstretched palm.

Beta led the doctor to the door and slowly opened it.

A man who looked to be in his thirties was standing outside the door.

He had short, curly hair, thick eyebrows, a high nose, and deep-set eyes—typical Italian features. A well-tailored bespoke suit accentuated his sharp physique, and he wore gleaming black leather shoes. The expensive watch on his wrist shone under the lights, and a family crest ring adorned the ring finger of his right hand.

Inside and outside the compound, his bodyguards stood like stone sculptures in every corner, while a row of white Toyota Land Cruisers outside the gate silently exuded a sense of oppression.

The doctor gave the man a slight bow and then quickly left.

The man watched the doctor's figure disappear into the night before turning around and looking at Beta: "Is someone injured? Was it you or John?"

Beta stepped aside to make way for the doorway: "How should I address you? Santino? Or... Mr. Antonio?"

“That’s your decision, not mine, Saron,” Santino said, looking at Beta.

Beta gestured for Santino to come in: "Come in."

Santino entered the villa, and Beta followed behind him, closing the door behind him.

Santino walked slowly, looking around the interior of the villa.

When his gaze fell on a pair of little girls' shoes on the ground, he turned to Beta and asked, "You have a child? When did this happen?" Beta explained, "I'm only 29. Where would I get a teenager?"

Santino listened, glanced at the shoes again, and then slowly walked into the living room.

John was sitting on the sofa with an ice pack on his arm, and he held out his hand: "Santino."

Santino also extended his hand and shook hands with John: "John."

Beta walked toward the kitchen, asking as she went, "Coffee?"

Santino and John sat down on the sofa one after the other, facing each other. Santino replied, "Of course."

John took the ice pack off his arm, put on his clothes, and said, "I didn't expect you to come."

Santino responded while carefully observing the entire villa: "I'm also very happy to see you."

Inside the kitchen, the coffee machine hummed. Beta stood quietly in front of it, her eyes fixed on the slowly flowing coffee.

Santino's gaze lingered on the photograph above the fireplace.

He got up and walked to the fireplace, carefully examining the woman in the photograph. Then he turned to John and said, "I've heard about your wife. My condolences."

John nodded slightly: "Thank you."

Beta placed two steaming cups of coffee on the coffee table. Santino glanced at the photo one last time before returning to his seat on the sofa.

“It’s been a long time, Salon.” Santino picked up his coffee cup but didn’t drink it immediately; instead, he spoke first.

Beta responded, "Yes, it's been a whole year."

Santino slowly put down his coffee cup, his gaze shifting between John and Beta: "To be honest, I shouldn't have come here."

John's expression darkened: "You came with a blood pact?"

Santino reached into his coat and pulled out a palm-sized gold disc. He gazed at John, then gently placed the disc on the glass coffee table. The metal struck the glass with a crisp "click."

He leaned back on the sofa, his voice low and somber: “Believe me, I didn’t want to come to you with the blood pact. You are all my family. Salong is my sister’s child, you were my sister’s former lover, and I am Salong’s uncle.”

He looked at John: "But the blood pact cannot be broken. John, we cannot disregard this contract just because we are family."

Santino slowly turned the golden disc, his fingertips tracing the patterns on it: "Once a blood pact is made, it is secured by the soul and witnessed by blood. This contract cannot be broken."

John's gaze was sharp as a knife: "Don't look for me."

"Not looking for you?" Santino raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "These bloody fingerprints, could they be someone else's?"

Beta asked, "What do you want to do with the blood pact?"

With a soft click, Santino opened the disc. The gilded interior was precisely divided, revealing dried blood fingerprints on the left and a stark blankness on the right.

He turned the blood oath to John: "I could have been straightforward, like asking you to get rid of my troubles."

“Jaina stole the Antonio family’s High Table seat.” His voice deepened. “That seat should have been mine. I could have easily ordered you to kill my own sister.”

Beta's thumb snapped the pistol shut: "How about we change our demands? Like, let John spare your life?"

(End of this chapter)