Chapter 7 - The Operating Theater
The ninth floor of St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital in downtown Chicago was quiet, sterile, and bathed in bright sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
It was Monday morning, 8:00 a.m.
Dr. Ragavan—a world-renowned pediatric cardiologist with thirty years of experience—stood outside Operating Suite 4, adjusting his surgical cap. Standing beside him was a team of six specialized nurses, two anesthesiologists, and the chief of pediatric surgery.
In the private waiting lobby at the end of the hall, Delaney sat on a leather sofa.
She wore a soft, navy-blue knit sweater—one that Alessio’s staff had delivered to her suite that morning. For the first time in six years, her sleeves were resting comfortably at her wrists, not pulled down over her knuckles, because no one in this building looked at her with judgment or pity.
Alessio stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the Chicago skyline. He wore a crisp dark suit, his hands resting lightly in his pockets. He hadn't spoken in an hour, allowing Delaney the quiet space she needed as the surgical team prepped Juny for the four-hour procedure.
The heavy double doors of the operating wing pushed open, and a nurse stepped out, holding a small clipboard.
“Miss Shaw?” the nurse called out gently.
Delaney stood up instantly, her heart slamming against her ribs. “Yes?”
“Juny is fully prepared,” the nurse smiled warmly. “She requested to see her sister for thirty seconds before we begin the anesthesia.”
Delaney took a quick, shuddering breath and walked toward the doors. As she passed Alessio, she paused, her grey eyes looking up into his dark, steady gaze.
“Will you... will you stay here?” Delaney asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Alessio looked down at her, his expression softening with a tenderness that no one in the Chicago underworld would have believed existed.
“I am not moving from this spot until she walks out of that room, Delaney,” Alessio promised softly. “Go see your sister.”
Inside the prep room, Juny lay on a mobile gurney, covered in a warm fleece blanket. She wore a blue surgical cap over her dark hair, but her face was bright, relaxed, and devoid of fear.
“Hey, Peanut,” Delaney whispered, stepping up to the side of the bed and taking Juny’s small hand in hers.
“Hey, face-maker,” Juny grinned, squeezing Delaney’s fingers. “Did you see the TV in my room? It has every anime channel in the world! And the doctor said I can have chocolate ice cream as soon as I wake up!”
Delaney let out a wet, breathless laugh, tears spilling down her cheeks. “You eat as much ice cream as you want. Just promise me you’ll listen to Dr. Ragavan.”
“I promise,” Juny said softly. She looked past Delaney toward the glass window, where Alessio’s tall silhouette stood silently against the morning light. “Is that him? The guy from table 7?”
Delaney turned her head slightly, then nodded. “Yes. That’s Alessio.”
Juny smiled, a sweet, knowing fourteen-year-old smile. “I like him. He looks like a prince from one of my comic books. Tell him I said thanks for the pastry basket.”
“I will,” Delaney kissed Juny’s forehead, lingering there for five long seconds, soaking in the warmth of her sister’s skin. “I love you, Juny.”
“Love you more, Delaney. See you in four hours.”
The orderlies gently wheeled the gurney through the double doors into the operating suite. The heavy surgical lights flickered on, and the doors clicked shut.
Delaney walked back out into the lobby, her legs feeling like lead. She stood in the middle of the room, looking at the shut doors, feeling the terrifying, agonizing void of waiting.
Alessio walked over to her. Without saying a word, he pulled out his silk handkerchief, reached out, and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“Sit down, Delaney,” he said softly, leading her back to the leather sofa.
May you like
He sat down beside her—not crowding her, but close enough that she could feel the steady, immovable warmth of his presence.
For the next four hours, while the finest surgeons in the country repaired her sister’s heart, Delaney Shaw didn't sit alone in the dark. She sat beside the king of Chicago, holding his hand, while the world outside continued to spin.
