Chapter 4 - The Shadows of Cicero
Two days later, the cold autumn rain poured over the gritty streets of Cicero, plastering dead leaves against the windowpane of St. Jude Children’s Hospital.
In a bright room on the third floor, seven-year-old Wes sat up in his hospital bed, happily coloring a drawing of a red sports car. A brand-new tablet sat on his bedside table, alongside a massive basket of gourmet fruits and toys bearing the emblem of Chicago’s finest private toy store.
Adeline sat in the armchair beside him, running her fingers through his soft brown hair.
“He’s real rich, isn't he, Addie?” Wes asked, holding up his drawing. “The man who paid for my heart doctor?”
“He’s very influential, Wes,” Adeline smiled gently. “And he wants to make sure you get the best surgeon in the country.”
“Is he mean?” Wes asked, his innocent eyes looking up at her. “You looked tired when you first went to his house. But now you look... different.”
Adeline paused, her fingers lingering in Wes’s hair. “How do I look?”
“Like you’re not scared anymore,” Wes said simply.
Before Adeline could answer, the door to the hospital room swung open.
It wasn't a doctor or a nurse.
Camille Ashcroft stepped into the room, wearing a tailored cream cashmeres coat, leather gloves, and a wide-brimmed hat that shaded her icy blue eyes. Behind her stood two tall, muscular men in dark trench coats—men Adeline recognized from the estate’s secondary security team.
Adeline stood up instantly, stepping in front of Wes’s bed. “What are you doing here, Miss Ashcroft?”
Camille strolled into the room, her high heels clicking loudly on the linoleum floor. She picked up the wooden toy car from the table, examining it with disgust before dropping it back down.
“A cozy little room,” Camille said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “It’s amazing what a little mafia charity can buy these days. A brand-new heart for a street kid.”
“Get out of my brother’s room,” Adeline said, her voice dropping into a lethal, protective tone.
Camille stepped closer, stopping just inches from Adeline. The fake smile vanished from her face, replaced by a dark, arrogant sneer.
“You think you’re clever, don't you, Nurse Marsh?” Camille whispered softly. “You think because Nico kept you around after that little display in the foyer, you’re special? You’re a disposable temp worker from the slums.”
“If I’m so disposable, why did you drive thirty miles in the rain to see me?” Adeline countered, refusing to back down an inch.
Camille’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “I came to give you a final warning. Next Friday, Nico signs the asset transfer and the marriage certificate. After that, he won't be needing a private nurse anymore. He’ll be moved to a private residential care facility in Switzerland.”
Adeline’s chest tightened. Switzerland. A facility where they could complete his murder out of sight.
“If you leave quietly tonight,” Camille continued, reaching into her leather handbag and pulling out a pre-signed cashier’s check, “I will personally clear your brother’s medical bills and add two hundred thousand dollars for your trouble. You walk away, and your brother lives.”
She held out the check between two gloved fingers.
“And if I don't?” Adeline asked quietly.
Camille looked over at Wes, her smile turning cold as ice. “Accidents happen in hospitals all the time, Adeline. Power surges. Equipment malfunctions. It would be such a tragic shame if your brother’s surgical date was delayed... permanently.”
Adeline’s blood ran cold. The sheer wickedness of the woman standing before her made her stomach turn.
Before Adeline could speak, a heavy hand slammed the hospital room door wide open.
Santino—Nico’s personal, most loyal bodyguard, a built-like-a-house veteran with a scarred neck—stepped into the doorway. Behind him stood four heavy-set men clad in black tactical jackets bearing the silver Alfieri crest.
Camille spun around, her face turning pale. “Santino? What are you doing here?!”
Santino didn't look at her. He stepped into the room, placing his bulk firmly between Camille’s men and Wes’s bed. He pulled a satellite phone from his coat and held it out to Camille.
“The boss wants to speak to you, Miss Ashcroft,” Santino said, his voice like grinding gravel.
Camille snatched the phone angrily, pressing it to her ear. “Nico! What is the meaning of this?! Your goons just interrupted—"
“If you ever step within fifty feet of Adeline Marsh or her brother again,” Nico’s voice growled through the speaker, so cold and loud that even Adeline could hear every word, “I will cancel the Ashcroft logistics merger before sunset, ruin your father’s political campaign by morning, and put a price on your head that no amount of Ashcroft money can lift.”
Camille gasped, taking an involuntary step back. “Nico... you... you wouldn't—”
“Try me, Camille,” Nico hissed. “Get out of that hospital. Now.”
The line went dead.
Camille lowered the phone, her hands trembling violently with rage and humiliation. She glared at Adeline with pure, unadulterated hatred.
“You’ll regret this,” Camille spat through her teeth.
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her two bodyguards rushing after her like beaten dogs.
Santino bowed his head respectfully to Adeline. “Mr. Alfieri has ordered two of our permanent guards to be posted outside this room twenty-four hours a day, Miss Marsh. No one enters without your personal approval.”
May you like
Adeline let out a long, shaky breath, sinking back into her chair. She looked at the tablet on the bedside table, then out the window toward the stormy sky.
Nico wasn't just fighting for his empire anymore. He was protecting her family with everything he had. And for the first time in her life, Adeline realized she was falling hopelessly, dangerously in love with a mafia boss.
