Chapter 11 - The Hospital WingThe Moretti estate had a hospital wing.
Of course it did.
By then, nothing about that house should have surprised me, but the sight of a private medical suite behind carved double doors still made me stop. It looked less like a clinic and more like a luxury hotel room pretending not to be full of machines.
Dr. Mercer arrived with the ambulances and took command in a way no armed man questioned.
“Out,” he barked at Nico.
Nico did not move.
Dr. Mercer pointed to the blood dripping from Alessandro’s sleeve.
“Unless you can suture arterial damage with your loyalty, get out of my way.”
Nico stepped aside.
Alessandro was lifted from his chair to the bed with practiced care. He came to once during it, jaw clenched, eyes wild for half a second.
“Emma?”
I froze.
Dr. Mercer pressed him down.
“She’s safe.”
His eyes found me near the door.
“Safe?”
“Yes,” I said. “She’s right here.”
Emma stood behind my leg, thumb in her mouth, Mr. Rabbit tucked beneath her arm.
Alessandro looked at her until his panic faded.
Then he passed out again.
Dr. Mercer glanced at me.
“You too.”
“What?”
“Sit. You’re bleeding.”
I looked down.
My sleeve was torn. Both elbows were scraped raw. My ankle had swollen where Valentina grabbed me. Dust streaked my face and hair. I looked like someone who had crawled out of a collapsed building.
Maybe I had.
“I’m fine.”
Dr. Mercer snorted.
“Every mother says that right before falling over.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Emma tugged my hand.
“Mama, sit.”
Betrayed by my own child.
I sat.
A nurse cleaned my elbows while Dr. Mercer worked on Alessandro. Through the open door, I could see federal agents moving through the hall. Real ones. Jackets with letters. Phones. Evidence bags. Hard faces.
Luca and Valentina had been taken alive.
Neither went quietly.
Valentina screamed about lawyers.
Luca screamed about blood.
Alessandro, unconscious, said nothing at all.
That silence frightened me more than their shouting.
Mrs. Bellini came in with a bandage on her temple and tea on a tray.
I stared at her.
“You should be lying down.”
“So should you.”
She poured tea into a china cup with hands steadier than mine.
Emma leaned against her.
“You got owie.”
Mrs. Bellini touched her bandage.
“A small one.”
“You need Rabbit?”
Mrs. Bellini’s eyes softened.
“Perhaps later, cara.”
I looked at the older woman.
“How are you so calm?”
“I am not calm. I am old. There is a difference.”
A laugh escaped me before turning into a sob.
I covered my mouth.
Mrs. Bellini set the cup down and placed a hand on my shoulder.
That small kindness nearly undid me.
“I brought her here,” I whispered.
“Who?”
“Emma. I brought her into this house.”
“You brought her to work because you had no choice.”
“I should have called in.”
“And lost your job?”
“Better than this.”
Mrs. Bellini looked toward the bed where Dr. Mercer was stitching Alessandro’s arm.
“Perhaps.”
That was not the answer I wanted.
She continued softly.
“But if Emma had not wandered into that office, Mr. Alessandro would have been slowly poisoned until no one questioned his decline. Valentina would have controlled his medication. Luca would have controlled the family. And one day soon, this house would have held a funeral.”
I looked at my sleeping child.
After all the fear, she had finally given up and curled into a chair, Mr. Rabbit beneath her cheek.
“She’s three,” I said.
“Yes.”
“She should be watching cartoons.”
“Yes.”
“Not exposing murder attempts.”
Mrs. Bellini sighed.
“Children should never have to save adults. But sometimes God sends truth in small shoes.”
Across the room, Alessandro stirred.
Dr. Mercer finished wrapping his arm.
“He’ll live,” the doctor said before anyone asked. “Blood loss, exhaustion, minor concussion risk, laceration. He pushed his body too hard.”
Nico, standing in the hall, looked stricken.
Dr. Mercer pointed at him.
“Do not start blaming yourself in my doorway. I charge extra for guilt.”
Nico looked away.
Alessandro opened his eyes.
For a moment, he seemed disoriented.
Then memory returned.
“Luca?”
“In custody,” Nico said.
“Valentina?”
“In custody.”
“The report?”
Dr. Mercer held up a tablet.
“Copied to federal investigators, state police, and three attorneys who owe you enough to stay awake for the next week.”
Alessandro exhaled.
His gaze shifted to me.
“Sophia.”
I stood despite the nurse’s protest.
He looked at my bandaged arms.
His face tightened.
“I failed to keep you safe.”
I almost laughed.
“You had an armed coup in your mansion. I’m not sure safe was on the menu.”
His mouth moved faintly.
“Emma?”
“Asleep.”
He closed his eyes.
“Good.”
I stepped closer.
“Why did you ask for her when you woke up?”
He opened his eyes again.
For the first time, he looked embarrassed.
A ridiculous expression on that face.
“She made me promise.”
“That’s all?”
“No.”
I waited.
He looked toward the chair where Emma slept.
“When Valentina said I lived wrong, I believed her for one second.”
My throat tightened.
He continued.
“Then I remembered Emma telling me to come back. She did not ask if I was useful. Or whole. Or powerful. She simply expected me to keep breathing.”
I had no answer.
Some truths are too tender to touch.
Nico cleared his throat.
“Boss, federal agents want a statement.”
“No.”
“Tomorrow?”
“No.”
Dr. Mercer crossed his arms.
“For once, I agree. He needs rest.”
Alessandro looked at me again.
“You should go home.”
The words landed strangely.
All day I had wanted nothing else.
Now home felt far away and unsafe and too quiet.
“What about Valentina’s people?”
“Nico will place protection outside your apartment.”
I stiffened.
“No.”
“Sophia—”
“No men outside my apartment scaring my neighbors.”
“Then inside.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then where will you go?”
I looked at Emma.
My apartment had one lock, thin walls, and a landlord who pretended not to know when men loitered outside.
Alessandro saw the answer before I said it.
Mrs. Bellini did too.
“There are staff apartments in the east carriage house,” she said gently. “Private entrance. Good locks. Far from the west wing.”
I looked at her.
“I don’t work here anymore.”
Alessandro’s voice was quiet.
“You do if you want to.”
I stared at him.
“After today?”
“Especially after today.”
“I brought chaos into your office.”
“No,” he said. “You brought Emma.”
I swallowed.
“I can’t owe you.”
“You don’t.”
“People always say that when they know you already do.”
His eyes held mine.
“Then make it employment. Salary. Contract. Terms reviewed by a lawyer who does not work for me.”
That surprised me.
Again.
He looked exhausted, pale, wounded, and still somehow impossible to dismiss.
“What job?” I asked.
“Household staff.”
“Cleaning?”
“If that is what you want.”
Mrs. Bellini made a small sound.
Alessandro glanced at her.
“What?”
She lifted one eyebrow.
“You do not need another cleaner. You need someone in this house who says no to you without trembling.”
Nico looked at the ceiling.
Dr. Mercer suddenly found his bag very interesting.
Alessandro looked back at me.
“Apparently, the position is evolving.”
I shook my head.
“This is insane.”
“Yes,” Alessandro said. “Most true things here are.”
Emma stirred in the chair.
Without opening her eyes, she mumbled, “Cookie.”
Everyone looked at her.
Then at Alessandro.
The feared man of Chicago, stitched and pale in a hospital bed, sighed.
“I am beginning to understand that cookies are not optional.”
And for the first time that day, every person in the room laughed.
Not loudly.
May you like
Not freely.
But enough to prove we were all still alive.
