Chapter 5 - THE HOSPITAL RECORDS
I sat on the edge of my slashed sofa, pulling Lily tightly against my side. “Informant? Mr. Moretti, my father mopped floors at St. Jude’s Memorial. He was a quiet, gentle man. He didn't know anything about… about your world.”
Adrian slipped the micro-SD card into his pocket and holstered his weapon. He looked around the ruined apartment, his jaw tight with anger.
“My mother, Elena, was a formidable woman,” Adrian began, his voice softening just a fraction. “When my father died, she took over the charitable arm of our family’s empire. But she suspected that a rival syndicate—the Rossi family—was using St. Jude’s hospital to launder money and treat their wounded soldiers off the books.”
My mind raced. “My dad worked the night shift in the archives. He handled all the physical medical records before they were digitized.”
“Exactly,” Adrian nodded. “Elena needed someone on the inside. Someone invisible. A janitor who had access to every room, every trash can, and every filing cabinet after midnight. Your father fed her evidence for two years.”
The pieces began to click together in my head, forming a terrifying picture. “Ten years ago, my father had a sudden, massive heart attack in the locker room at work. He was only sixty.”
Adrian’s dark eyes met mine, filled with a grim understanding. “If Paul Vance had this watch, Margaret… your father didn't die of a heart attack. He was murdered.”
I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob. Lily buried her face in my shoulder, weeping quietly. The man I had loved, the grandfather Lily barely remembered, had been killed because he was trying to do the right thing. And Paul—my own ex-husband—was somehow involved.
“We can't stay here,” Adrian said decisively. He gestured to his men. “Grab whatever essentials you need for the next forty-eight hours. You and Lily are coming with me to my secure penthouse downtown. You are not letting her out of your sight, and I am not letting either of you out of mine.”
I was too exhausted and terrified to argue. Within ten minutes, we were back in the armored SUV, speeding toward the heart of the Chicago skyline.
Adrian’s penthouse occupied the entire top floor of a glass-and-steel skyscraper. It was a fortress of luxury, accessible only by a private, biometric elevator. Once inside, Adrian ordered his men to secure the perimeter and led Lily and me to a massive, plush guest suite.
“Get some rest,” Adrian told Lily gently. “Nobody gets through those doors. I promise you.”
Lily nodded, curled up on the massive bed, and fell asleep almost instantly, exhausted by the adrenaline crash.
I walked out into the main living area. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking, glittering view of the city, but I couldn't appreciate it. I watched as Adrian sat at a massive marble island in the kitchen, plugging the micro-SD card into a high-tech laptop.
“Is it encrypted?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself. I was still wearing my catering uniform.
“Heavily,” Adrian replied, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “But my mother used a standard family cipher. Give me five minutes.”
Before he could crack the code, the private elevator chimed.
Adrian instantly stood up, his hand dropping to his weapon. His men raised their rifles. The biometric elevator shouldn't have opened for anyone without Adrian’s explicit permission.
The steel doors slid open.
Victoria stumbled out.
She looked nothing like the polished, cruel socialite who had mocked my nursing pin hours earlier. Her designer gown was torn at the shoulder. Her hair was a tangled mess. And the right side of her face was dominated by a massive, dark purple bruise that was already swelling her eye shut.
She collapsed onto the hardwood floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Adrian!” she wailed, crawling toward him. “Please! You have to help me!”
Adrian didn't lower his gun. He looked at her with absolute disgust. “How did you bypass the security override?”
“I’m your fiancée!” Victoria cried. “My thumbprint is still in the system! Adrian, please, Paul Vance tried to kill me!”
I stepped forward, my nursing instincts fighting through my hatred of the woman. I could see the way her pupils were reacting to the light. The bruise wasn't just a surface injury.
“Paul hit you?” Adrian asked coldly.
“He forced me to do it!” Victoria screamed, pointing a shaking finger at me. “He found out I was skimming money from the charity to pay off my boutique’s debts. He said if I didn't funnel the scholarship money to him, he would tell you the truth! He blackmailed me!”
“The truth about what, Victoria?” Adrian’s voice was a lethal whisper.
May you like
Victoria choked on a sob, blood trickling from her nose. She looked up at Adrian, absolute terror in her remaining good eye.
“He said he would tell you what really happened the night your mother died,” Victoria gasped. “Because I was there, Adrian. I was in the room when Elena had her stroke.”
