Chapter 3 - Blood on the Marble
The sub-basement of the Moretti estate didn't feel like a panic room; it felt like a command bunker. Reinforced steel doors sealed shut with a heavy pneumatic hiss, blocking out the sound of gunfire echoing from the upper levels. Emergency LED strips clicked on, bathing the concrete room in a cold, blue glow.
Julian set me down gently on a leather sofa built into the wall. He immediately took Leo from my arms, inspecting the baby’s airway with practiced, cold efficiency before placing him into a secure, padded travel crib in the corner.
I sat there on the edge of the sofa, my hands trembling violently now that the adrenaline was burning off.
Julian turned around, staring down at me. The ambient light caught the harsh angles of his jaw, the faint scar running along his collarbone, and the absolute lack of hesitation in his dark eyes.
"You hit a federal informant in the trachea with your elbow," Julian said softly, leaning his hip against a heavy steel desk. "Where did a fake nanny learn to disarm a dirty cop in complete darkness?"
"Trauma bay three at Saint Jude's," I replied, my voice raspy. "You get used to cracked-out patients trying to stab you with dirty needles. A corrupt cop isn't much different."
"Detective Vance was on the payroll of the Marcone family," Julian said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "He didn't track you here by accident. He came specifically for you. Which means someone inside my organization told them who you were."
I looked up, meeting his stare. "Or someone inside your organization was trying to get rid of both of us."
Julian took two steps closer, dropping into a crouch in front of me so we were eye-to-eye. The scent of gunpowder, rain, and expensive cologne drifted off him. "You saved my son’s life tonight, Maya. The bead... you didn't hesitate. Even with a gun at your head."
"I took an oath," I said quietly. "I don't let children die. Not for you, not for anyone."
"That oath got you framed for medical murder two years ago," Julian countered, his tone dangerous. "You refused to sign off on an organ harvesting ring operating out of your hospital's ICU. When you threatened to blow the whistle, Vance and his handlers made sure you were blamed for a patient's cardiac arrest. Am I wrong?"
My throat tightened. I hadn't heard anyone speak the truth about my past out loud in twenty-four months. Everyone had believed the headlines. Everyone had believed the altered medical logs.
"How do you know that?" I whispered.
May you like
Julian reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a thick black leather folder, tossing it onto the table beside me.
"Because the patient who died on your floor wasn't a stranger," Julian said, his eyes darkening to a shade like midnight. "She was my sister."
