Chapter 9 - THE LAST FIRE
The old Northline warehouse burned orange against the Chicago night.
Fire crews had not yet arrived.
Rebecca’s federal team reached the property seconds after Dominic’s vehicles.
Smoke poured through broken windows in the eastern structure.
Clare stared at the building.
Somewhere beneath it was the archive her mother had died trying to expose.
Dominic grabbed her arm.
“You stay outside.”
She almost argued.
Then she saw his expression.
Not control.
Reason.
For once, she agreed.
Federal agents entered through two access points.
Dominic stayed with Clare.
That surprised her.
“Why aren’t you going in?”
“Because professionals are already doing it.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Growth.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
The first explosion came three minutes later.
Not enormous.
But powerful enough to shatter two upper windows.
Clare flinched.
Dominic pulled her behind a vehicle.
Agents shouted.
Fire crews arrived.
Then Rebecca’s voice came through Nico’s radio.
“Archive located. Fire suppression system is active below ground.”
Nico grinned.
“Documents might survive.”
Dominic exhaled.
Then gunfire sounded.
Clare’s stomach dropped.
A black SUV burst through a side gate.
It came directly toward them.
Dominic shoved Clare behind the armored vehicle.
Nico drew his weapon.
The SUV skidded to a stop.
Kathryn Davis stepped out holding a handgun.
Clare saw her clearly through smoke.
Hair disheveled.
Face streaked with soot.
Nothing remained of the calm HR director.
“Clare!”
Dominic moved in front of her.
Kathryn laughed.
“Of course.”
Federal agents began moving toward the yard.
Kathryn raised the gun toward Dominic.
“Stay back!”
Everyone stopped.
Clare’s heart hammered.
Kathryn looked at her.
“Your mother ruined everything.”
“No,” Clare said.
Dominic glanced backward.
“Do not engage her.”
Clare ignored him.
“My mother exposed you.”
“She was a nurse.”
“So am I.”
“You’re nothing.”
Clare looked at the burning warehouse.
Then back at Kathryn.
“For somebody who thinks I’m nothing, you’ve spent a lot of effort trying to destroy me.”
Kathryn’s gun trembled.
Dominic saw it.
Clare did too.
“You should have let Bell die,” Kathryn snapped.
“That’s why you fired me.”
“Yes.”
“You ordered Weber to stop treatment.”
“Yes.”
“And when I didn’t?”
“I removed the problem.”
The words carried across the yard.
Rebecca Sloan was recording everything.
Clare knew it.
Kathryn apparently didn’t care anymore.
“Did you kill my mother?”
Dominic whispered, “Clare.”
She kept her eyes on Kathryn.
“Answer me.”
Kathryn smiled.
“She made one phone call too many.”
Pain hit Clare harder than she expected.
Six years of questions ended in one sentence.
Dominic took half a step forward.
Kathryn swung the gun toward him.
“No!”
Clare moved before anyone else.
Not toward Kathryn.
Toward Dominic.
The shot cracked.
Dominic jerked.
For one impossible second, nobody moved.
Then he went down.
Clare screamed his name.
Federal agents fired.
Kathryn dropped the weapon and collapsed, wounded in the shoulder.
Clare didn’t look again.
She was already beside Dominic.
Blood spread across his shirt.
“No.”
His eyes opened.
“Clare.”
“Don’t talk.”
“You tell everyone that.”
“Because everyone keeps getting shot around me.”
His mouth twitched.
She pressed both hands over the wound while Nico dropped beside them.
“Ambulance!”
Clare assessed what she could.
The bullet had entered high in Dominic’s side.
He was conscious.
Breathing.
That was something.
Not enough.
But something.
Dominic looked at her.
“You’re crying.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“Shut up.”
“Very professional.”
“Dominic.”
His eyes began to close.
She grabbed his face.
“No.”
He opened them again.
“You stay with me.”
“Bossy.”
“Yes.”
He breathed through the pain.
“I like that about you.”
“Tell me when you’re not bleeding.”
“I like you.”
Clare froze.
Nico looked away with exaggerated politeness.
“Dominic.”
“I thought I should mention it.”
“Now?”
“Timing has never been my strength.”
“You surrounded me with five cars.”
“Exactly.”
Despite the tears on her face, Clare laughed.
Then the ambulance arrived.
The next two hours became the longest of her life.
Dominic was taken to Northwestern under federal protection.
For once, Clare didn’t treat him.
She wasn’t allowed.
She sat in the waiting room wearing his blood.
Tommy arrived in a wheelchair against every medical recommendation.
Dr. Price threatened to personally drag him back to bed.
Tommy ignored him.
Nico paced.
Victor sat in federal custody downstairs while continuing to cooperate.
At 3:18 a.m., the surgeon appeared.
Clare stood so quickly her chair fell backward.
“He’s stable.”
Her knees nearly gave out.
“The bullet missed the lung and major vessels,” the surgeon continued. “He’ll be in pain, but he’s going to recover.”
Tommy covered his face.
Nico looked at the ceiling.
Clare closed her eyes.
“He’s alive?”
“Yes.”
Those words changed everything.
By sunrise, Kathryn Davis was under federal guard.
Dr. Weber was arrested at O’Hare trying to board a flight to Canada.
Frank Keller was captured two hours later.
The Northline archive survived.
Inside were nearly eighteen years of records.
Payments.
Shipments.
Names.
Evidence connecting the operation to counterfeit medication, fraud, bribery, patient deaths, Margaret Bennett’s murder, and Michael Romano’s bombing.
Lakeview’s chief administrator resigned before lunch.
The hospital board announced an independent investigation.
Clare’s name disappeared from the theft accusation.
By evening, news networks were calling her a whistleblower.
She hated the word.
She had never tried to become one.
She had only tried to keep people alive.
When Dominic finally woke properly, Clare was sitting beside his bed.
He looked at her.
“You stayed.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Tommy?”
“Alive.”
“Nico?”
“Annoying.”
“Victor?”
“Cooperating.”
“Kathryn?”
“Alive and arrested.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Good.”
Clare studied him.
“How do you feel?”
“Like someone shot me.”
“Insightful.”
His eyes opened again.
“What happens now?”
She knew he wasn’t asking about his injury.
Dominic Romano’s empire had been built partly on truths that turned out to be lies.
His father had been a criminal.
Then an informant.
Then a murder victim.
His uncle had protected him and deceived him.
The family companies were tangled in investigations.
“What do you want to happen?” Clare asked.
Dominic stared at the ceiling.
“I don’t know.”
“That might be a good place to start.”
He looked at her.
“And you?”
“My nursing license is still mine.”
“Lakeview will beg you to return.”
“I’m not going back.”
“You love nursing.”
“I do.”
“Then where?”
Clare thought about nine years under fluorescent lights.
Broken systems.
Administrators deciding numbers mattered more than people.
Then she thought about the night Dominic found her walking home in the rain.
A nurse with no job.
No car.
No umbrella.
Still a nurse the moment somebody needed help.
“I think I want to build something.”
Dominic watched her.
“What?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He reached for her hand.
Clare let him take it.
“I know someone with construction companies.”
She smiled.
“Are they legitimate?”
A pause.
“They’re going to be.”
May you like
That was the moment Clare understood the story wasn’t ending.
It was finally becoming theirs.
