Chapter 4 - The Fire and the Vow
Panic, pure and terrifying, tore through Nora’s veins like liquid ice.
“My dad!” she shrieked, running toward the penthouse exit, her black silk robe fluttering around her ankles. “Victor! My dad is in that hospital!”
Before she could reach the private elevator doors, Victor’s massive arm caught her around her waist, pulling her back against his broad chest, holding her securely as she burst into frantic tears.
“Listen to me, Nora! Look at me!” Victor commanded, his deep voice booming over her panic as he turned her around to face him.
Nora looked up through a blur of hot tears, clutching his shirt collar with trembling hands. “Please, Victor! They’re going to hurt him! He’s sick! He can't run!”
“Nobody is going to hurt your father, Nora,” Victor swore, his dark eyes flashing with a terrifying, apocalyptic rage. “My private tactical team is stationed on every floor of that hospital. I placed a six-man security detail on your father’s room the day you started working for me.”
Nora stared at him, her mind spinning in complete chaos. “You... you put security on my dad?”
“Of course I did,” Victor said fiercely, framing her face in his broad hands. “I know who my enemies are. I would never leave the woman I care about exposed to their retaliation. Leo!” he spoke sharply into his wrist communicator. “Execute Protocol Omega at the medical center. Clear the floor. Kill anyone who steps near Arthur Hastings’s room.”
“Understood, Don Romano! Tactical team engaging right now!” Leo’s voice barked over the speaker, followed immediately by the faint, muffled sound of heavy gunfire over the line.
Victor grabbed a dark suit jacket from the back of the sofa, pulled a sleek black handgun from his hidden shoulder holster, checked the magazine with terrifying, practiced speed, and clicked the safety off.
He reached into his cedar wardrobe, pulled out a thick, heavy wool coat, and wrapped it securely over Nora’s silk robe.
“We’re going to the hospital,” Victor said, his voice dropping into a register so dark, so dripping with absolute murder that the air in the penthouse seemed to freeze. “And tonight, the Davenport family learns what happens when they touch the only thing in this world that belongs to me.”
Twenty minutes later, three heavy black armored SUVs tore through the rainy streets of Chicago, skidding to a halt outside the emergency entrance of Northwestern Memorial Hospital.
The second-floor oncology wing was completely sealed off by broad-shouldered men in dark suits carrying suppressed automatic weapons.
Nora ran down the long, sterile corridor, her heart in her throat, until she reached Room 214.
The door was wide open. Inside, sitting up in his hospital bed, looking completely untouched and calmly sipping a cup of chamomile tea, was her father, Arthur Hastings.
Standing near the window were three of Victor’s private security guards, while on the floor near the doorway lay four armed mercenaries in handcuffs, surrounded by city police officers and federal agents.
“Dad!” Nora cried out, rushing into the room and throwing her arms around her father’s frail shoulders, weeping hysterically against his hospital gown.
Arthur blinked in surprise, gently patting his daughter’s back. “Nora? Sweetheart, what on earth is going on? These nice gentlemen in the dark suits said there was a minor building malfunction and insisted on standing guard.”
Nora pulled back, wiping her tears, looking at her father’s peaceful face. He had no idea how close death had come to his door. He had no idea that a war had just been fought in the hallway outside his room.
Victor stepped smoothly into the doorway of the hospital room. He looked towering, immaculate, and utterly commanding, stepping past the federal agents as if he owned the entire building.
Arthur Hastings looked past his daughter’s shoulder, his eyes locking onto the formidable man standing in the doorway.
“And who might you be, young man?” Arthur asked, adjusting his reading glasses.
Victor walked over to the side of the bed, stopping beside Nora. He bowed his head slightly toward the elderly man with deep, profound respect.
“I am Victor Romano, Mr. Hastings,” Victor introduced himself softly, his gravelly voice filled with genuine warmth. “I am Nora’s employer... and the man who intends to spend the rest of his life ensuring that your daughter and your family are completely protected from every danger in this world.”
Arthur looked at Victor’s intense eyes, then looked at Nora’s tear-stained face, seeing the profound, unshakeable love shining between the two of them.
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A gentle, knowing smile touched the old man’s face. “Well... it’s about time she brought home a man who knows how to keep a promise.”
Victor reached down, taking Nora’s trembling hand into his broad, warm grip, pulling her gently against his side. He looked down into her dark eyes, a vow hanging silently between them that no storm, no syndicate, and no empire could ever break.
