Chapter 4 - The Dragon’s Lair
Hope’s mind raced through the blur of blood, dust, and screaming metal from three years ago.
The day the tent collapsed. The heat. The frantic attempt to stop a man’s chest from leaking air. She remembered ripping off her bloody apron, grabbing her personal kit, and being dragged into an evacuation chopper by two Marines.
"I don't have a micro-drive," Hope said, her voice rising in genuine panic. "I lost everything in that tent! My gear, my uniform, my dog tags—"
She stopped.
Her eyes drifted to her right hand.
Luca noticed the sudden pause. "What is it?"
"My dog tags," Hope whispered, her fingers going to her throat where a silver chain usually hung under her shirt. She pulled it out. Attached to the chain were two military ID tags, battered and scratched, alongside a small, heavy silver crucifix her grandmother had given her.
"The crucifix," Hope breathed. "It isn't silver."
She unhooked the chain with trembling hands. The small crucifix was heavy, far too heavy for solid silver, and the base had a tiny, almost invisible seam along the bottom edge.
"I found it in my medic bag when I woke up at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany," Hope said, her voice shaking. "I thought... I thought one of the nurses packed my personal effects. I never looked at it closely. I’ve been wearing it for three years."
Luca stepped close to her. Without asking, he reached out, taking the crucifix gently from her hand. He pulled a small tactical knife from his pocket, used the tip of the blade to press a micro-latch near the top, and twisted.
The bottom of the cross slid off with a faint click.
Inside lay a tiny, black silicon chip no bigger than a fingernail.
Silence descended on the office, heavy and suffocating.
"Jesus," Hope whispered, sinking into a leather chair. "It was in my bag the whole time. That’s why they’ve been watching me. That’s why my apartment was broken into last month."
"They weren't sure until three weeks ago when the military records leaked," Luca said, closing the crucifix back up and handing it to her. "The Morello family paid off an analyst in the Pentagon to get the casualty log. They realized the medic who survived Vance’s death was living right here in Boston."
"Take it," Hope said immediately, thrusting the chip toward him. "Take it, sell it, burn it, give it to the FBI! I don't want it!"
"If I take it now, they will still kill you," Luca said coldly. "The Morellos don't leave witnesses. They know you’ve held it for three years. They assume you know what’s on it."
Hope buried her face in her hands. The exhaustion of three years of surviving, working double shifts, fighting off collection agencies, and hiding her scars finally caught up to her. Her shoulders shook with silent, frustrated sobs.
Suddenly, she felt a warm, heavy hand on her shoulder.
Luca knelt beside her chair. The ruthless mob boss, feared across three states, lowered his head until he was at eye level with her.
"Look at me, Hope," he commanded gently.
She pulled her hands away, her eyes red, her breathing ragged.
"You stayed with my brother when everyone else fled," Luca whispered, his dark eyes shining with an absolute, unbreakable resolve. "You held his hand while he drew his last breath. You brought his last words back to me."
May you like
He took her cold hands in his broad, scarred palms.
"I swore an oath over Elias’s grave that I would protect anyone who brought him peace," Luca said. "You are under the protection of the Ferretti house now. No one touches you. No one threatens you. If the Morellos want this chip, they will have to go through me, my army, and every gun I control in this city."
