Chapter 4 - Blood in the Boardroom
Within ten minutes, Sophie had been gently transferred onto a motorized medical gurney and wheeled up to the penthouse-level private wing of St. Vincent Medical Center, surrounded by a phalanx of my most trusted men.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the luxurious private suite, watching the distant skyline of Chicago sparkle through the gathering dusk, while Dr. Evans nervously reviewed her charts by the bedside.
"She is stable for the moment, Mr. Moretti," the doctor reported, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "The surgery was successful, but her immune system is severely compromised from prolonged stress and malnourishment. She needs absolute rest, blood transfusions, and continuous monitoring for at least two weeks."
"Do whatever is necessary," I commanded without turning around. "Spare no expense. Import specialists from Johns Hopkins if you have to. If she doesn't recover completely, you answer directly to me."
The doctor nodded frantically and practically tripped over his own shoes rushing out of the room.
The soft, even sound of Sophie's breathing filled the quiet suite, grounding me in a way nothing else ever could.
Suddenly, the heavy oak door creaked open, and Marcus slipped into the room, his face carved from stone.
"Boss, we have a situation down at the downtown docks," Marcus whispered urgently, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Sophie. "Salerno’s men are moving cargo through our restricted warehouse without authorization. They think you're distracted because of personal matters."
A dark, venomous coldness settled deep into my bones.
For months, I had allowed myself to drift into complacency, and now local jackals thought they could test the strength of the Moretti name while I sat by a hospital bed.
"Pack up a clean suit from the car," I murmured, turning around to cast one last lingering look at Sophie, who was sleeping peacefully under the heavy white duvet. "Double the guard detail outside this door. Nobody—not the hospital board, not federal agents, not even the mayor—gets within fifty feet of her without my direct authorization."
"Understood, Boss," Marcus replied, his eyes sharp. "What about Salerno?"
I walked over to the bedside, gently pulling the blanket higher over Sophie's shoulder before leaning down to brush a stray lock of chestnut hair from her forehead.
"Tell the boys we are going to pay Vincent Salerno a little visit," I said, a dangerous, razor-thin smile touching the corner of my lips. "It's time to remind everyone in Chicago why my father built this empire in blood, and why I intend to keep it that way."
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By the time I stepped out of the hospital elevator and into the damp Chicago night air, the sorrow in my chest had hardened into pure, unadulterated steel.
The men who thought they could take advantage of my vulnerability were about to discover a monster they could never bargain with.
