Chapter 3 - Mount Sinai After Dark
The convoy pulled up to the main entrance of Mount Sinai Hospital at 4:18 A.M., ignoring every parking restriction on the street. Armed guards stepped out first, securing the perimeter with chilling efficiency, while Kieran led me through the sliding glass doors.
A tall, silver-haired man in a white lab coat was pacing near the reception desk, looking pale and thoroughly rattled.
"Mr. Blackwood," Dr. Vance stammered, extending a shaky hand. Kieran barely touched it before leaning in with an icy, authoritative glare.
"Vance," Kieran said without preamble. "This is Saraphina Torres. Her brother, Leo, is currently on the fourth floor. I want him moved to the private executive suite immediately. Round-the-clock private nursing, top-tier pain management, and every experimental therapy that holds promise."
Dr. Vance adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, clearly intimidated by the hulking mafia kingpin standing in his reception hall. "Mr. Blackwood, Leo Torres is on our clinical trial standby, but the private suites are reserved, and the procedure requires an extensive deposit—"
"Marco," Kieran barked softly.
Marco stepped forward, opened a sleek black leather briefcase, and placed a certified cashier's check on the reception counter.
Dr. Vance glanced down at the check, and his jaw practically dropped onto his chest. "One... one point two million dollars?"
"That covers his current arrears, the private suite, the donor search, and whatever gold-plated machinery you need to pull him through," Kieran stated, unbuttoning his overcoat. "If the bill runs higher, bill my family office directly. If my little brother doesn't make a full recovery because your staff cut corners, I won't just pull your funding, Vance. I will personally buy this entire hospital and fire you into the Hudson River. Do we understand each other?"
"Crystal clear, sir," Dr. Vance stammered, signaling two senior charge nurses immediately. "Right this way. We will initiate the transfer immediately."
We rode the elevator up to the pediatric floor. My heart felt like a trapped bird beating against a cage. When the elevator doors opened, the harsh smell of disinfectant washed over me, a familiar scent that had haunted my nightmares for months.
I rushed ahead down the dim hallway toward room 412. Through the glass window, I saw my little brother. Leo looked so frail beneath the white hospital blankets, his little head bald from recent rounds of aggressive chemo, an IV drip quietly humming beside his narrow bed.
Tears sprang to my eyes as I cracked the door open.
"Sari?" a tiny, weak voice called out from the pillows.
"Hey, my brave little captain," I choked out, rushing to his bedside and pressing my face against his cool, paper-thin forehead. "I'm here, Leo. Sari is right here."
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Leo blinked sleepily, his huge brown eyes scanning past me toward the tall silhouette standing framed in the doorway. Kieran was standing there, removing his leather gloves, watching the little boy with an expression so vulnerable, so tender, that it completely unmade the feared monster the tabloids wrote about.
"Sari..." Leo whispered, pointing a small finger toward Kieran. "Who is the giant superhero?"
