Chapter 10 - THE EXPERIMENT WAKES
The wail of the approaching police sirens grew louder, shattering the stillness of the Lake Forest night.
I stared at the small silver flash drive resting in the velvet jewelry box in Adrian’s hand.
The other half is waking up.
The words hung in the grand foyer like a toxic gas.
“What does that mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I instinctively pulled Ellie closer to me, terrified that the nightmare hadn't actually ended on the front porch. “What other half?”
Adrian’s jaw clenched. The pain from the gunshot wound in his shoulder seemed to vanish, replaced entirely by a cold, calculating fury. He snapped the velvet box shut and shoved it deep into his pocket.
“Daniel,” Adrian ordered, his voice sharp and authoritative. “The police are two minutes out. Clear the property. Get Isabella out the back access road to the safe house in the city. Tell the responding officers Ryan Mitchell breached the property armed and I defended myself under the Castle Doctrine.”
“What about them?” Daniel asked, gesturing to me and Ellie.
“They come with me,” Adrian said, pushing himself off the marble wall.
He didn't wait for a response. Adrian grabbed his heavy black coat from my shoulders, wincing slightly as he threw it over his bleeding arm to conceal the wound.
“Come on,” Adrian told me, his eyes fierce. “We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?” I stammered, holding Ellie tight. “But the police are coming! We can give them the medical file! We can explain everything!”
Adrian stopped and looked at me. His expression wasn't angry, but it was incredibly sad.
“Melissa, listen to me,” Adrian said softly, placing his uninjured hand on my shoulder. “Dr. Aris wasn't just a rogue dentist. He was conducting illegal genetic experiments using stolen mafia funds. If you give that file to the Chicago Police, Ellie becomes federal evidence. She’ll be dragged into a media circus, tested by government doctors, and tied up in custody battles for the rest of her life.”
I looked down at my twelve-year-old daughter. She was exhausted, terrified, and clinging to me like a lifeline. The thought of her being paraded in front of cameras and prodded by federal scientists made me physically sick.
“You’re right,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes again. “I won't let them take her.”
“Then we go,” Adrian said.
We slipped out the back entrance of the mansion just as the red and blue flashing lights of the police cruisers illuminated the front gates. We hurried through the manicured gardens, climbing into a second, nondescript black sedan parked near the service exit.
Adrian drove with one hand, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. He didn't speak. He just stared intensely at the road ahead, his mind clearly racing.
I sat in the back seat with Ellie, holding her tightly until exhaustion finally claimed her and she fell asleep against my chest.
“Where are we going?” I asked quietly, not wanting to wake her.
“To a private clinic,” Adrian replied, his voice strained from the pain in his shoulder. “A doctor I trust. He needs to patch this bullet hole, and we need to see what’s on that flash drive.”
Forty-five minutes later, we arrived at an unmarked brick building in the industrial district of the city.
A quiet, efficient man named Dr. Vance met us at the back door. He didn't ask questions. He led Adrian into a sterile trauma room and immediately went to work cleaning and suturing the gunshot wound.
I sat in a small waiting area down the hall, Ellie still sleeping soundly on a leather couch. I paced the floor, the anxiety gnawing at my stomach.
An hour later, Adrian walked out. His left arm was in a sling, and he looked pale, but the lethal intensity in his eyes remained undiminished.
He was holding a sleek, silver laptop.
“Dr. Vance provided an air-gapped computer,” Adrian said, setting the laptop on a small coffee table. “No internet connection. If there’s a tracking program on the drive, it won't broadcast.”
He sat down heavily on the couch opposite Ellie, motioning for me to join him.
I sat beside him, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Adrian pulled the small silver flash drive from his pocket and inserted it into the laptop.
A single, encrypted folder popped up on the screen.
Adrian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing the rudimentary security with surprising ease. He clicked the folder open.
Inside were dozens of video files.
Adrian clicked the first one.
The screen flickered, showing a grainy, black-and-white security feed of a sterile medical laboratory. The date stamp in the corner read sixteen years ago.
Dr. Aris—looking younger, wearing surgical scrubs—stood in front of the camera. He wasn't smiling. He looked manic.
“Log entry 42,” Dr. Aris’s voice crackled through the laptop speakers. “The Castellano embryo implantation in the surrogate, Melissa Mitchell, was a complete success. The female subject is developing normally.”
I flinched, hearing him talk about my pregnancy like a science fair project.
“However,” Dr. Aris continued on the video, leaning closer to the camera, “the syndicate funds provided by Ryan Mitchell allow for an expansion of the trial. The Castellano DNA is remarkably resilient. But it is only half the equation.”
Adrian leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “What is he talking about?”
Dr. Aris turned the camera slightly, pointing it toward a row of cryogenic incubation tanks in the background of the lab.
“To truly create the perfect heir,” Aris said, his voice dropping to an obsessive whisper, “I have combined the stolen Castellano embryo with the genetic material of Chicago’s most violent, uncompromising bloodline. The Moroni family.”
Adrian’s good hand clenched into a fist.
The Moroni family. The Castellanos’ oldest, most bitter rivals. The syndicate that had murdered Adrian’s uncle twenty years ago.
“The hybrid embryo was successfully implanted in a secondary surrogate,” Aris concluded on the video, an arrogant smirk twisting his lips. “A male child. Raised in the shadows. Conditioned for absolute loyalty. When he comes of age, he will be the ultimate weapon against both families.”
The video feed cut to black.
The waiting room plunged into absolute silence.
I stared at the black screen, feeling the blood drain completely from my face.
“He made two,” I whispered, looking at Adrian in horror. “There’s another child. A boy. A genetic hybrid between your family and your worst enemies.”
Adrian didn't answer. He stared at the laptop, his mind calculating the catastrophic implications. If the Moroni family found out a child existed with their DNA and Castellano DNA, it would start a bloodbath that would burn Chicago to the ground.
“Where is he?” Adrian finally asked, his voice a low, terrifying rumble.
He clicked the next video file.
The date stamp jumped forward. This video was recorded only three days ago.
Dr. Aris was sitting at a desk, looking exhausted, terrified, and much older.
“He found out,” Aris stammered to the camera, wiping sweat from his forehead. “The boy found out what he is. He broke into my servers. He knows about the Mitchell girl. He knows about the Castellanos.”
Aris looked frantically over his shoulder.
“He’s not a weapon anymore,” Aris sobbed, absolute terror shining in his eyes. “He’s a monster. He’s coming for me. And then, he’s coming for his sister.”
The video feed didn't cut to black this time.
The door behind Dr. Aris violently burst open.
A tall, broad-shouldered teenager stepped into the frame. He wore a dark hoodie pulled low over his face. He moved with a terrifying, calculated grace.
He raised a suppressed pistol.
“No, please!” Aris screamed.
The teenager didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger twice.
Dr. Aris slumped forward onto the desk, dead.
The teenager slowly walked up to the camera. He reached up and pulled the hood back, revealing his face.
He had dark, piercing eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a cold, emotionless expression that chilled me to the bone.
He stared directly into the camera lens.
“I’ll see you soon, little sister,” the boy said softly.
Then, he reached out and turned the camera off.
Adrian slowly closed the laptop.
He looked at me, the terrifying reality settling over us like a shroud.
Ryan hadn't murdered Dr. Aris.
May you like
The experiment had.
And now, he was hunting Ellie.
