Chapter 4 - The Hospital Trap
Before the fake nurse could raise the syringe in her hand, Dante moved with terrifying, predatory speed.
In less than a second, he intercepted her arm, twisting it upward with enough force to send the heavy medical syringe clattering across the sterile floor tiles. The woman let out a harsh gasp, trying to reach inside her oversized coat pocket for a concealed weapon, but Dante slammed her against the wall with absolute, controlled violence.
“Luca! Code Red in room 412!” Dante roared into his lapel microphone, pinning the intruder effortlessly with one arm while shielding my hospital bed with his body.
Within three seconds, the heavy oak door burst open and two of Dante’s private tactical guards swarmed into the room, subduing the fake nurse instantly and stripping a heavy-caliber silenced pistol from her waistband.
“She’s one of Marcus’s clean-up crew,” Dante said coldly, staring down at the struggling woman as she was hauled to her feet. “He knew the moment the police report filed that you survived the alley. He sent her to finish the job before you could talk to investigators.”
My chest heaved as panic threatened to overwhelm my battered body. They weren’t just sending messages anymore. They were hunting me inside a supposedly secure hospital.
“Harper,” Dante said, turning back to me, his hands gently resting on the edges of my bed to ground me. “Listen to me very carefully. The game is over. Marcus thinks he’s holding all the cards, but he just played his hand too early.”
The door opened again, and Luca strode in, looking grim as he handed a small, fireproof document pouch to Dante.
“Mr. Moretti, we cleared Miss Hayes’s apartment just in time,” Luca reported crisply. “Marcus’s men had already broken in and trashed the place. But we found what they were looking for.”
Dante unzipped the pouch and pulled out the crisp, original manila envelope containing the Vanguard Holdings audit records, along with a secondary flash drive containing high-resolution scans of every fraudulent wire transfer.
“Good work, Luca. Secure the perimeter around the hospital and prep the armored transport. We’re moving Harper to the estate right now, under heavy guard,” Dante ordered.
“Right away, sir.”
An hour later, I was discharged against standard protocol, wrapped in a heavy wool blanket, and ushered into the back of a bulletproof Maybach. Dante sat beside me the entire ride, his posture rigid, his eyes fixed on the tablet displaying real-time corporate surveillance feeds of Moretti Global headquarters downtown.
“What’s the plan, Dante?” I asked quietly, watching the Chicago skyline blur past the tinted windows.
“Marcus has an emergency board meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning at ten to vote on the Northbridge acquisition,” Dante said, a cold, predatory smile touching the corners of his lips. “He thinks he’s about to seize control of the company’s logistics network and bury his embezzlement trails forever.”
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He turned his head to look at me, his gaze fierce and unwavering.
“Instead, we’re going to walk through those glass doors together. And we are going to bury him.”
