Chapter 7 - The Hospital Intercept
The explosion was deafening.
The shockwave hit us like a physical wall, stealing the breath from my lungs and ringing in my ears like a high-pitched siren. Dust and concrete rained down from the ceiling.
When I opened my eyes, the massive steel door had been blown off its hinges, bent outward into the hallway.
Matteo was already on his feet, hauling me up. "Move!"
We stumbled out of the smoking vault. The night manager was lying on the floor upstairs, unconscious but breathing. Domenico and his men were gone. They had assumed the vault was a tomb.
We burst out of the bank and into the freezing street. Luca’s SUV was still idling in the alley.
"Mercy Hospital," Matteo barked as we threw ourselves into the car. "Call your men. Tell them if Domenico steps foot on that hospital floor, they shoot to kill."
Luca gripped the steering wheel, speeding through red lights. "Boss, the police are going to be there. If we walk in with guns drawn—"
"I don't care about the police," Matteo snarled, his eyes burning with a desperate, terrifying fire. "That is my son. Domenico isn't going to frame him, and he isn't going to kill him. Drive."
I sat in the back seat, my hands shaking as I held the birth certificate. Marco was my brother. He had been so angry, so broken by our mother's death, that Domenico had easily twisted him into a weapon.
"Matteo," I said over the roar of the engine. "If Marco wakes up and sees you, he might panic. He thinks you're the enemy."
Matteo looked back at me through the rearview mirror. His expression softened, just for a fraction of a second. "Then you're going to have to talk to him, Elena. You're the only family he has ever trusted."
We skidded to a halt outside the emergency room entrance of Mercy Hospital.
Matteo didn't wait for the car to fully stop. He was out the door, his long coat sweeping behind him as he pushed through the sliding glass doors. I ran right behind him.
The ER was chaos. Nurses were rushing past, machines were beeping.
Matteo grabbed a terrified orderly by the scrubs. "Gunshot victim, poison ingestion, brought in twenty minutes ago from Bellavita. Where is he?"
"Room 412," the orderly stammered. "Fourth floor ICU."
We sprinted to the elevators, but they were taking too long. Matteo hit the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. My lungs burned as I tried to keep up.
We burst onto the fourth floor.
The corridor was eerily quiet. Too quiet.
The nurses' station was empty.
Matteo drew his gun, signaling for Luca to take the left flank. We moved slowly down the sterile white hallway toward Room 412.
The door was slightly ajar.
Matteo kicked it open, his weapon raised.
The hospital bed was empty. The IV lines had been ripped out, pooling clear liquid onto the linoleum floor.
"He's gone," Luca said, checking the bathroom.
Suddenly, the PA system overhead crackled to life.
"Looking for the boy, Matteo?" Domenico's voice echoed through the empty hospital corridor. "You're a little late. But if you want to see your son one last time, come to the roof. Come alone. Or I throw him off the edge."
Matteo’s face turned to stone. He looked at Luca. "Stay with Elena."
"No," I said, grabbing Matteo's arm. "He's my brother. I'm going with you."
"Elena, it's a trap."
"I don't care," I said fiercely. "My mother didn't sacrifice her life so we could hide."
Matteo looked into my eyes, seeing the exact same stubborn fire Isabella possessed. He nodded once.
We ran to the stairwell and pushed through the heavy metal doors leading to the roof.
May you like
The cold wind whipped across the gravel rooftop.
Standing near the edge, bathed in the harsh red light of the hospital’s neon sign, was Domenico. He held a gun pressed directly against the temple of a heavily breathing, pale-faced Marco.
