Chapter 5 - The Doctor Who Kept Him Sleeping
Dr. Evelyn Shaw didn't have a gun.
She didn't need one.
Two men stepped into the hallway behind her.
Both carried weapons.
Elena slowly moved in front of Lorenzo's bed.
“What did you give him?”
Evelyn smiled.
“You always were observant.”
“You falsified his medication records.”
“I adjusted them.”
“For seven weeks?”
“Forty-nine days.”
The number hit me.
Forty-nine nights.
Lorenzo hadn't simply failed to wake.
Someone had prevented him.
“Why?” Isabella asked.
Evelyn looked almost disappointed.
“You still think this is about killing Lorenzo?”
“What else would it be?”
“Control.”
She walked toward the bed.
“A dead Lorenzo creates chaos. An unconscious Lorenzo creates signatures.”
Isabella's face changed.
“What signatures?”
“Power of attorney. Emergency board votes. Asset transfers.”
“Victor.”
Evelyn laughed softly.
“Victor couldn't organize breakfast without instructions.”
“Then who?”
Evelyn glanced at me.
“Ask Clara.”
My heart stopped.
“I don't know anything.”
“Your mother did.”
That was impossible.
“My mother cleaned hotel rooms.”
“Rose Bennett did many things.”
“You knew her?”
“I knew of her.”
Evelyn's gaze moved toward Mia's damaged rabbit, which Isabella had carried upstairs with the flash drive removed.
“Rose was supposed to disappear quietly.”
I stepped toward her.
“What did you do to my mother?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“Cancer killed Rose. But fear kept her silent.”
I wanted to tear the answer from her.
Instead, Lorenzo's voice came from behind us.
“Evelyn.”
Everyone froze.
His eyes were open.
Clearer than before.
Evelyn turned.
For the first time, her confidence cracked.
“You should be asleep.”
Lorenzo's mouth formed the faintest smile.
“I've slept enough.”
One of Evelyn's men raised his weapon.
A shot exploded.
I grabbed the bed rail.
The armed man collapsed.
Another shot.
The second man dropped his weapon.
Three Moretti security guards appeared behind them.
Evelyn stared at Isabella.
Isabella calmly lowered her phone.
“I activated the silent alarm when you entered.”
Lorenzo looked at his mother.
“Good.”
Evelyn tried to run.
Elena blocked her.
Security restrained her within seconds.
I expected Lorenzo to order something terrible.
Instead, he said, “Police.”
Everyone looked surprised.
Lorenzo noticed.
“What?”
Isabella almost smiled.
“You used to solve problems differently.”
“I woke up to a three-year-old singing.”
His eyes moved toward me.
“Apparently I've become sentimental.”
It was the first glimpse of the man beneath the legend.
And against every sensible instinct I possessed, I almost smiled.
Evelyn was taken away.
But the danger didn't leave with her.
Because Victor had disappeared.
And the person above him remained unknown.
For the next two weeks, Lorenzo improved with astonishing speed.
He hated physical therapy.
He hated hospital food.
He especially hated being told what to do.
Mia adored him.
She began visiting for ten minutes every afternoon.
On the third day, she brought him crayons.
On the fifth, she decorated his walker with yellow ribbons.
On the sixth, she informed him that his beard made him “look grumpy.”
He shaved the next morning.
Nobody commented.
I certainly didn't.
By the eighth day, Lorenzo could walk from his bed to the window.
I was changing flowers when he said, “Clara.”
“Yes?”
“Stop pretending you're cleaning.”
“I am cleaning.”
“You've moved the same vase four times.”
I looked down.
He was right.
“What do you want?”
“To know why you're avoiding me.”
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
I put the vase down.
“You're Lorenzo Moretti.”
“So I've been told.”
“People are afraid of you.”
“Are you?”
I considered lying.
“Yes.”
Something passed through his eyes.
“Good.”
“That wasn't the answer you wanted?”
“It was the honest one.”
He sat near the window.
New York glittered beyond the glass.
“People who aren't afraid of dangerous men usually become victims of them.”
“And are you dangerous?”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
No pride.
No apology.
Just truth.
Then he added, “But not to you.”
My heartbeat changed.
I hated that he noticed.
His mouth almost curved.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Lorenzo.”
“You're my employer.”
“My mother hired you.”
“Your family owns the estate.”
“Then technically my mother is your employer.”
“That doesn't improve this conversation.”
He laughed.
It was quiet.
Rusty.
Probably his first real laugh in months.
Then Mia ran into the room carrying construction paper.
“Lorenzo!”
His entire face changed.
She climbed carefully beside him.
“I made your family.”
She showed him the picture.
There were four figures.
Mia.
Me.
Lorenzo.
And another woman floating above them with wings.
Lorenzo went still.
“Who's that?”
“The lady from Mommy's picture.”
Sofia.
Mia pointed.
“She said you shouldn't be sad anymore.”
My breath caught.
“Mia, Sofia didn't say that.”
“I know.”
She looked at Lorenzo.
“But she would.”
Lorenzo swallowed.
Then hugged her.
Over Mia's shoulder, his eyes found mine.
Something quiet passed between us.
A possibility neither of us was ready to name.
That evening, Isabella called us downstairs.
A package had arrived.
No return address.
Inside was another photograph.
It showed me taking Mia to preschool two days earlier.
Someone had drawn a red circle around Mia's face.
On the back were six words.
GIVE US THE DRIVE OR SHE DIES.
Lorenzo read it once.
Then his expression changed completely.
The gentle man Mia had awakened disappeared.
New York's most feared Moretti was back.
He looked at his security chief.
“Find my brother.”
Then he looked at me.
“And nobody touches Clara or Mia.”
May you like
His voice became dangerously quiet.
“Nobody.”
