Chapter 8 - THE VANSE'S CONFESSION
“Drop the weapon!”
Marco wrenched the front driver’s side door open, leveling his firearm straight at Dr. Vance’s chest. The rain poured in over us, soaking the leather seats and chilling my skin to the bone.
Dr. Vance didn't drop the gun. Instead, he pressed the cold steel barrel harder against my temple, his hand shaking so violently I thought the trigger might accidentally slip.
“Back off, Marco!” Dr. Vance screamed, his voice cracking with hysteria. “I have nothing to lose! Elena’s hit squads are already heading across town! If you don't let me take this car, we are all dead men!”
I sat frozen, holding sleeping Emma tightly in my lap, keeping her head shielded away from the gun. I didn't dare breathe.
“Adrian, you coward,” I managed to choke out, my voice trembling. “Put the gun down. I’m your niece.”
Dr. Vance briefly glanced at me, his eyes hollow and bloodshot. “Claire... I’m sorry. I really am. But family loyalty doesn't pay for protection when the Romanos decide to wipe the slate clean.”
“Elena is gone,” Marco said steadily, keeping his finger locked on the trigger, his amber-lit eyes locked on the doctor. “The mansion is burning. The police and federal agents are already en route to the estate. You can’t run from her, Adrian. She owns half the judges in this state.”
Dr. Vance’s breath hitched. He looked frantically out the window, as if expecting a black sedan to pull up behind us at any second.
“She doesn't own the federal marshals,” Dr. Vance whispered, desperation bleeding into his tone. He tapped the thick leather briefcase clutched in his left arm. “Inside this bag is every single medical record, every Swiss bank routing number, and the original autopsy report for Olivia Romano.”
Marco’s brow furrowed. “The real autopsy report?”
“Yes!” Dr. Vance cried out. “Olivia wasn't poisoned slowly over a month! She was given a massive paralytic agent the night she boarded that boat! She was unconscious when she hit the water! She didn't drown—she suffocated before she even sank!”
My stomach violently rebelled. A wave of nausea washed over me. Olivia hadn't fought for air in the cold dark water. She had been murdered before her boat ever left the slip.
“Who gave her the paralytic?” Marco demanded, taking a half-step closer, his weapon steady.
Dr. Vance hesitated, his eyes darting toward me.
“It was Daniel,” the doctor whispered. “Daniel and Vanessa. They drugged her champagne at the estate before she left for the marina. They thought it would look like an accidental overdose or a drunken slip. But the boat sank before the tox screen could be processed normally, so I forged the drowning report to cover for them.”
“And Elena?” I asked, tears blurring my vision. “What was her part in this?”
“Elena wanted the thirty million dollars back,” Dr. Vance explained, his voice breaking. “Olivia found out Elena was laundering cartel money through the shipping lanes. Elena gave Daniel the green light to eliminate her, as long as it looked like an accident.”
The absolute scale of the depravity within the Romano family was staggering. They had traded human lives—a mother, a wife—like poker chips to protect their illegal empire.
Suddenly, a loud, high-pitched whining sound pierced the rainy night air.
SCREEECH.
We all froze.
Headlights cut through the sheets of rain from down the block. Two black, unmarked SUVs rounded the corner at terrifying speed, their tires screeching against the wet asphalt as they barreled straight toward us.
“Elena’s clean-up crew,” Marco cursed under his breath.
Dr. Vance’s face went entirely white. All the fight drained out of him in an instant. He lowered the gun from my temple, his arm dropping limply to his side.
“It’s over,” Dr. Vance whispered.
Before Marco could pull him out of the car, the lead SUV slammed on its brakes, boxing us in against the curb. The doors flew open, and four masked men in tactical gear stepped out into the rain, raising their rifles.
“Marco! Drop your weapon!” the lead hitman shouted over the storm.
Marco hesitated, looking at the tactical team, then back at the clinic doors. He knew he couldn't take four armed men in the open while protecting us.
May you like
Slowly, deliberately, Marco lowered his sidearm and tossed it onto the wet pavement.
“Smart choice,” the hitman sneered. He motioned with his rifle toward the clinic. “Get out of the car. All of you. Madam Romano wants a word.”
