Chapter 5 - THE ST. JUDE MEDAL
The hidden door slammed shut behind us, plunging the narrow servant’s tunnel into pitch blackness.
The muffled sound of gunfire erupted from the dining room above.
“Dominic!” I screamed, hitting the stone wall. I tried to find the latch to open it again, but Julian caught my wrists in the dark.
“Stop, Grace! You can’t help him up there. If you go back, you’re dead, and so is my grandfather.”
Julian switched on a small tactical flashlight. The beam illuminated the damp, brick walls of the tunnel that ran beneath the estate.
Dr. Harris was struggling to keep Salvatore upright. The old man was breathing heavily, his face pale and slick with sweat.
“We need to keep moving,” Dr. Harris said breathlessly. “The safe room is fifty yards ahead. It has medical supplies and a secure comms line.”
I forced myself to breathe. My husband died protecting our daughter. Now, I had to protect my patient.
I took Salvatore’s other arm, letting him lean his weight against my shoulder.
“I’ve got you, Mr. Romano,” I whispered.
We moved as quickly as we could through the cold, narrow passage. Every distant thump from the floorboards above sent a spike of terror through my chest. Dominic was up there alone, bleeding, fighting a dozen men.
When we reached the heavy steel door of the safe room, Julian punched a code into the keypad. The door hissed open.
The room was a bunker. Concrete walls, a wall of monitors showing dead static from the cut security feeds, and a fully stocked medical cot.
We laid Salvatore down. I immediately started an IV line with saline to flush the remaining poison from his system.
“He needs rest,” Dr. Harris said, checking his vitals. “His heart rate is slowing down. That’s good.”
I turned away, pacing the small concrete room. My hands were still covered in Dominic’s blood.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.
The silence from above was agonizing.
Suddenly, a heavy pounding echoed against the steel door.
Julian raised his gun, aiming directly at the center of the metal.
“Who is it?” Julian barked.
“Open the damn door, kid.”
It was Dominic’s voice.
Julian hit the release button. The heavy door swung open, and Dominic stumbled inside.
He was covered in dust and blood. His suit jacket was gone, and his white shirt was soaked crimson on the left side. But his eyes were still burning with that terrifying, unyielding fire.
He collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor.
I rushed to him instantly, dropping to my knees. I ripped his shirt open, exposing the gunshot wound. The bullet had passed clean through his shoulder, missing the bone but nicking a minor artery.
“You’re an idiot,” I sobbed, pressing a fresh gauze pad hard against his chest.
Dominic winced, but then a faint, arrogant smile touched his lips.
“I told you I was going to kill him,” Dominic rasped.
“Is Arthur dead?” Julian asked, keeping his gun trained on the open doorway.
“No,” Dominic breathed heavily. “He slipped out the back. But I took down six of his men. The rest retreated when they realized I blocked the gates.”
I tore open a suture kit with my teeth. “Hold still. This is going to hurt.”
Dominic didn’t flinch as I started stitching the wound. He just watched my face. His intense gaze made my skin burn.
“You stayed,” Dominic said quietly, his voice meant only for me. “You could have run when the doors opened. But you stayed with my father.”
“He’s my patient,” I said, tying off a knot.
“David was a good man,” Dominic said softly. “He died protecting his family. I’ll make sure his name is cleared, Grace. I promise you.”
Tears spilled over my cheeks. Hearing him say it out loud—validating my husband’s sacrifice—lifted a crushing weight off my soul.
Dominic reached up with his good hand. He didn’t wipe away my tears. Instead, he unclasped a heavy silver chain from around his neck.
Hanging from it was a worn, antique St. Jude medal. The patron saint of lost causes.
He pressed the medal into my palm and closed my fingers over it.
“My mother gave this to me when I took over the family,” Dominic said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “It’s the master key to the estate’s secondary lockdown protocols. It overrides everything.”
I stared at the medal. “Why are you giving this to me?”
“Because Arthur isn’t done,” Dominic said, his eyes darkening. “He didn’t bring enough men to take the house tonight. But he’s desperate. He knows we have the chess piece with his accounts.”
Suddenly, the encrypted phone on the bunker wall began to ring.
It was a harsh, jarring sound.
Julian answered it. He listened for a few seconds, his face turning pale. He held the receiver out to Dominic.
“It’s Arthur,” Julian said.
Dominic took the phone. He put it on speaker.
“You missed your shot, Arthur,” Dominic said coldly.
Arthur’s voice crackled through the speaker, devoid of his usual polished lawyer tone. He sounded manic.
“I did miss,” Arthur said. “But I don’t need the estate tonight, Dominic. I just need leverage.”
A muffled cry echoed in the background of the call. A young woman’s voice.
“Let me go!” the voice screamed.
My heart completely stopped. The needle dropped from my hand.
“Mom?!” the voice cried out.
May you like
It was Lily. My daughter.
“I know the nurse is listening,” Arthur said cruelly. “Grace, I have your daughter. If Dominic doesn’t walk out of the front gates alone in ten minutes, I’m going to finish the job I started with your husband.”
