Chapter 5 - The Traitor In The Bloodline
The SUV swerved violently as Anthony slammed on the brakes, pulling over to the side of the road.
“What do you mean Michael has Bianca?” Dante roared, his voice echoing in the confined space of the car.
“He surrendered his weapon to us, Boss,” Marco’s voice replied over the speakers, tight with tension. “He says he’s not here to fight. He says he has the missing chemical binder for your stabilizer.”
I stopped digging through my medical bag.
“He has the binder?” I asked loudly toward the dashboard microphone.
“He’s holding a blue vial,” Marco confirmed. “He says if Claire doesn’t inject it into you in the next fifteen minutes, your heart will literally explode.”
Dante’s chest heaved. The wheezing was undeniable now. His body was rejecting itself, tearing apart at the cellular level.
“Dad, we have to go back to the estate,” Anthony said, shifting the car into reverse.
“No!” Dante grabbed Anthony’s shoulder. “Station 4! We go after Elena!”
“You won’t make it to Station 4!” I snapped, losing all professional distance. “You are entering myocardial failure, Dante! If you die in this car, Leo loses his mother, and Sofia loses you. We go back. Now.”
Dante glared at me. The defiance of a mafia kingpin warring with the terrifying reality of his failing body.
He looked at Leo in the rearview mirror. The boy was clutching his seatbelt, terrified.
Dante’s shoulders slumped.
“Turn around,” he whispered.
We broke every traffic law in Chicago getting back to the Romano estate.
We burst through the front doors exactly twelve minutes later.
The foyer was a standoff. Six of Dante’s heavily armed guards had their weapons trained on one man standing in the center of the marble floor.
Michael Romano.
He looked older in person than on the video. Thinner, frail, carrying an oxygen tank over his shoulder.
Bianca stood next to him, trembling, though Michael’s gun was now resting on a side table.
“Michael,” Dante growled, drawing his own weapon despite barely being able to stand.
Michael held up a small blue glass vial.
“Put the gun down, little brother,” Michael said, coughing wetly into his hand. “I’m not the enemy today. I’m your only chance.”
I didn’t wait for family politics. I dropped my bag, snatched the blue vial from Michael’s hand, and inspected the seal. It was a complex, synthesized protein string.
“Is this the stabilizing agent for the Romano Protocol?” I demanded, looking at the old man.
“Yes,” Michael nodded. “Administer it intravenously. Push it slow, or it will shock his system.”
I prepped the syringe instantly.
“Sit,” I ordered Dante, pushing him onto a foyer bench. I tied off his arm, found a vein, and slowly pushed the blue liquid into his bloodstream.
For ten agonizing seconds, nothing happened.
Then, Dante took a massive, shuddering breath. The gray pallor began to fade from his skin. The wheezing in his chest subsided. The tension in his muscles uncoiled.
He was stabilizing.
Dante ripped the tourniquet off his arm and lunged forward, grabbing Michael by the throat and slamming him against the marble wall.
“You betrayed me!” Dante roared. “You told my father about Sofia! You told him about the twin!”
“I didn’t tell him!” Michael choked out, not fighting back. “He always knew, Dante! He’s been watching you for twenty years!”
“Then why did he take her tonight? Why now?”
Michael looked Dante dead in the eyes.
“Because his own protocol is failing. His organs are shutting down. He needs bone marrow from a genetically identical carrier of the defective gene. Elena is the only one who has it.”
“And you’re helping him?” Anthony yelled, stepping forward.
“I’m stopping him!” Michael yelled back, pushing Dante away with surprising strength. “I’ve been his prisoner for seventeen years, Dante! They kept me in that basement, draining my blood to keep him alive. When he found out Elena had the perfect genetic match, he didn’t need me anymore. He left me to die.”
Michael pointed a shaking finger at Dante.
“I came here to give you the cure for the kill-switch he put in your lungs. I came here to help you end him.”
The room went dead silent.
“Why should I believe a word you say?” Dante asked coldly.
Michael reached into his coat pocket.
He pulled out a heavy, rusted iron key.
“Because I know the back entrance to Station 4,” Michael said. “And I know how to bypass the security grid on his surgical suite. But we have to go now. Once he starts the bone marrow extraction, Elena won’t survive the night.”
Dante looked at me.
“Can I fight?” he asked.
I checked his pulse. It was rapid, but steady.
“You can fight,” I said. “But you’re bringing the nurse. If that extraction has started, I’m the only one who knows how to safely unhook her without causing a fatal hemorrhage.”
Dante didn’t argue this time.
He turned to Bianca.
“Take Leo. Lock yourselves in the vault room with Marco. Do not open that door for anyone but me or Anthony.”
Bianca nodded, tears streaming down her face. She reached out and grabbed Dante’s hand.
“Bring her back,” Bianca whispered.
Dante nodded.
May you like
He turned to his brother.
“Lead the way, Michael.”
