Chapter 6 - THE POISON IN THE SYRINGE
The air in the bedroom seemed to freeze.
Luca stood perfectly still, the phone in his hand. His dark eyes flared with a terrifying violence.
“Where is that facility, Claire?” Luca asked. His voice wasn’t loud. It was a chilling, dead-calm whisper that made the hair on my arms stand up.
“Mercy General,” I choked out, a raw panic rising in my throat. “Floor four, room 412.”
Luca didn't hesitate. He grabbed Marco’s dropped pistol from the floor and checked the magazine.
“Stay here with Isabella. Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone but me.”
“No,” I said, grabbing his arm. “That’s my mother. I’m going with you.”
“Claire, if Carlo’s men are there, it will be a bloodbath.”
“I don’t care!” I cried. “She’s all I have!”
Isabella tugged on Luca’s sleeve. “Take her, Daddy. I’ll hide in the secret room. Just like you taught me.”
Luca looked down at his brave little girl. He nodded once, kissing her forehead.
“Ten minutes, baby. Then the guards will come for you.”
We bolted down the back staircase, bursting out into the torrential rain. We sprinted across the dark lawn, ignoring the shouts of Luca’s men securing the gates. Luca threw me into the passenger seat of his armored SUV, jumped behind the wheel, and slammed on the gas.
The heavy vehicle tore through the manicured hedges, fishtailing onto the wet pavement of the street.
He drove like a madman, weaving through the slick Chicago traffic at eighty miles an hour.
“If Vanessa kills her to get to you,” I sobbed, gripping the door handle.
“She won’t,” Luca said, his eyes glued to the rain-slicked road. “Vanessa doesn't want your mother dead. She wants leverage. She wants me to hand over the evidence from the music box.”
Ten minutes later, the SUV screeched to a halt outside the emergency entrance of Mercy General.
Luca didn't wait for the valet. He left the car running and kicked the glass doors open.
We sprinted past the shocked nurses, taking the stairwell four steps at a time.
We burst onto the fourth floor.
The hallway was eerily quiet. Too quiet.
Luca raised his pistol, motioning for me to stay behind him. We crept down the corridor toward room 412.
The door was slightly ajar.
Luca kicked it open, swinging his weapon into the room.
My mother was still asleep in her bed, her chest rising and falling steadily.
But sitting in the chair beside her, crossing her legs elegantly in her ruined red silk gown, was Vanessa.
“You’re fast, Luca,” Vanessa smiled, placing the syringe on the bedside table. “But not fast enough.”
“Step away from her,” Luca commanded, keeping the gun trained on Vanessa’s head.
“Or what?” Vanessa mocked. “You’ll shoot me in a crowded hospital? My father has men covering every exit of this building. You’re trapped.”
I ran to my mother’s side, checking her pulse. She was safe.
“Give me the letter, Luca,” Vanessa demanded, dropping the polite act. “Give me the vial. Hand over Marco. And I’ll let you and the maid walk out of here.”
“You murdered my wife,” Luca whispered, his finger tightening on the trigger.
“Your wife was dying anyway!” Vanessa snapped. “She was weak. She couldn't handle the life. I loved you, Luca! I was willing to stand by your side and rule this city!”
“You are a monster,” I spat, glaring at her.
Vanessa laughed.
“Oh, Claire. You think you’re so righteous. You think you’re saving this family.”
She reached into her designer clutch and pulled out a worn, leather-bound ledger.
“Do you know why your mother is in this expensive care facility, Claire?” Vanessa asked, a cruel smile spreading across her face. “Do you know how you could afford it?”
I froze. “I pay for it with my salary.”
“Your salary barely covers the electricity,” Vanessa sneered.
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She tossed the ledger onto the bed.
“Your mother hasn't been in a coma for two years because of a stroke, Claire. She’s in a coma because she was Carlo Bellini’s accountant. And when she tried to steal from him, he broke her spine.”
