Chapter 6 - THE RACE AGAINST THE DARK
“She has Elena,” I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.
Arthur’s face contorted with fury. He bolted for the stairs. “I’ll kill her. I’ll rip her apart with my bare hands!”
“Wait!” I barked, moving as fast as my cane would allow. “If you go in shooting, she pulls the plug. We need a distraction.”
I looked through the shattered glass of the NICU. Lorenzo was still there, rhythmically squeezing the oxygen bag, his eyes locked on his tiny daughter’s chest. The backup generators finally kicked in with a heavy hum, and the machines lit up. The baby’s chest rose on its own.
Lorenzo collapsed against the incubator, sobbing quietly in relief.
I tapped my cane against the broken doorframe. He looked up.
“Lorenzo. Victoria is in Elena’s room. She has her hostage.”
The relief in Lorenzo’s eyes vanished, replaced instantly by the cold, lethal stare of the Chicago mob boss I had raised him to be. He kissed his fingers, pressed them to the incubator glass, and walked out to join us.
“What’s the play, Dad?” Lorenzo asked, wiping the blood from his brow.
“We go together,” I said.
We moved swiftly through the dimly lit emergency corridors. Arthur took point, Lorenzo flanked him, and I walked behind them. For the first time in history, the Moretti family and the man we supposedly murdered were walking side by side.
When we reached the intensive care wing, it was dead quiet. The nurses had been evacuated or locked in the breakroom.
Through the small window of Elena’s door, we saw Victoria. She was holding a suppressed pistol to Elena’s temple with one hand, and a syringe in the other. Elena was awake, her eyes wide with terror, but she remained perfectly still.
“We breach on three,” Arthur whispered, gripping the handle of the door.
“No,” Lorenzo said quietly. “She wants me. I go in alone.”
Before Arthur or I could stop him, Lorenzo pushed the door open and stepped into the room, raising his hands in surrender.
“Victoria. It’s me,” Lorenzo said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Let her go. You’ve won.”
Victoria laughed, pressing the barrel harder against Elena’s head. “Look who finally decided to be a husband. It’s too late, Lorenzo. Where is the ledger?”
“My father has it,” Lorenzo lied smoothly, taking a slow step forward. “He’s bringing it to your hotel. I came to offer you a trade.”
“A trade?” Victoria scoffed. “You have nothing I want.”
“I have the offshore passcodes,” Lorenzo said, tapping his own head. “The three million you stole seven years ago? That was a drop in the bucket. I know where the cartel keeps the primary funds. Let my wife go, and I’ll walk out of here with you and give you everything.”
Victoria’s greed flashed in her eyes. It was her fatal flaw. She hesitated for exactly one second to consider the money.
That was all Elena needed.
Under the blankets, Elena had been gripping the heavy silver rosary I had left on her bedside table. With a sudden, vicious swing, Elena whipped the heavy metal cross directly into Victoria’s eye.
Victoria screamed, stumbling backward, the gun firing wildly into the ceiling.
Lorenzo closed the distance in a millisecond. He tackled Victoria to the floor, pinning her arm beneath his knee and wrenching the gun from her hand.
Arthur and I rushed in. Arthur kicked the weapon away and secured Victoria with zip-ties from the medical cart.
Lorenzo didn't look at Victoria. He immediately scrambled up and rushed to Elena’s side.
“Are you okay?” he asked frantically, his hands hovering over her, afraid to touch her. “Did she hurt you?”
Elena looked at Lorenzo. She looked at his bloodied knuckles, his torn clothes, and the absolute terror in his eyes.
“You came back,” she whispered.
“I will never leave again,” Lorenzo swore, dropping to his knees beside her bed. “I know everything, Elena. I know about the annulment. I know about Arthur. I know what my mother made you do.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the newly revised estate documents I had given him hours earlier—the ones cutting him out.
May you like
Lorenzo signed his name on the bottom line, finalizing the transfer of his entire fortune to Elena.
“You are free,” Lorenzo cried, pressing the papers onto her lap. “You don't have to pretend anymore. You don't have to be afraid of me. I am setting you free.”
