The Mafia Boss Entered the Hospital With His New Lover—Then Saw His Abandoned Woman With Their Child

I stepped fully into the room, lowering the muzzle of my SIG toward the floor, but I did not drop it.

"Petra," I said, keeping my voice utterly level. "Put the gun down."

"Look at you," she sneered, her eyes gleaming with manic, hysterical triumph. Her gaze dropped to the slight bulge beneath my half-buttoned suit jacket, where a tiny fist peeked out against my white shirt. "You actually went and played hero. You brought the little bastard back."

"He's an innocent child," I said.

"He's a death sentence for my family!" she shrieked, pressing the steel barrel harder into Nina’s skull. Nina winced, a tear tracing down to the corner of her trembling mouth. "Did you think I was stupid, Dorian? I saw the way you looked at her when the gurney rolled past! I hired my own investigator three months ago when you started pulling cash out of the Pilsen development accounts!"

"Petra, this doesn't have to end in blood," I lied, calculating the distance between us. Twelve feet. Too far to lunge without her reflexively pulling the trigger.

"It was always going to end in blood!" Petra laughed, a shrill, unhinged sound. "My father was never going to give you the syndicate. He was using you to consolidate the union votes. As soon as we were married and the Moretti land titles were legally absorbed into our trusts, he was going to have you put down like a rabid dog!"

Nina’s eyes darted to mine. "Dorian..."

"Shut up!" Petra snapped, backhanding Nina across the face with her left hand. A welt bloomed instantly on Nina’s cheekbone. "You think you're special because you carry Moretti blood? You're a bartender! You're nothing!"

On the floor, Crane shifted his weight, coughing up a spatter of crimson. Petra didn't notice, but I did. Crane had worked his hands behind his back toward the medical supply cart beside the bed. His fingers were searching for the stainless steel scalpel dropped during the earlier struggle.

I needed to buy him five seconds.

"Petra," I said, stepping half an inch forward, drawing all of her toxic focus to me. "Your father doesn't care about you. If you pull that trigger, he won't protect you. You become a murder suspect in a public hospital. The feds will seize the Cavallo assets before breakfast."

"My father controls the state's attorney!" she snarled.

"Not anymore," I said calmly. "Who do you think has been feeding federal prosecutors the offshore wire transfers for the last six months? It wasn't an investigator, Petra. It was me."

Petra froze. The revolver wavered a fraction of an inch from Nina’s temple. "You... you rat."

"I was preparing to take your father down before Nina ever walked into that emergency room," I said, watching Crane’s fingers close around the scalpel handle. "Because men like Felix Cavallo don't retire. They have to be executed."

At that exact second, Crane moved.

With a roar of agony, ignoring his shattered shoulder, Crane drove the scalpel straight up into the back of Petra’s knee.

Petra screamed, her leg buckling beneath her.

The revolver discharged, but the bullet tore harmlessly into the ceiling, showering the room in plaster and dust.

Before she could adjust her aim, I closed the distance. With one hand protecting the newborn against my chest, I delivered a brutal palm strike to Petra’s chin.

Her head snapped back. She hit the floor like a sack of wet cement, completely unconscious.

"Crane!" I shouted, grabbing the zip-ties from Vance’s dead body in the hall.

"I'm alive, boss," Crane wheezed, struggling to stand. "We gotta move. Two more Cavallo vehicles just breached the underground garage. They're cutting the power to the building."

The fluorescent lights flickered once, twice, and died.

Emergency red backup lights clicked on, casting the room in a bloody, surreal glow.

And then, the sound of a high-powered rifle echoed from across the street.

*CRACK!*

The reinforced window shattered inward in an explosion of glass shards. A bullet slammed into the headboard inches from Nina’s ear.

Sniper on the parking deck.