Chapter 2 - The Silent Perimeter
Within eight minutes, the faint screech of tires announced the arrival of Dr. Vance. The physician rushed into the room carrying two heavy medical bags, his face pale with anxiety.
"Don Adrien," Vance panted, looking around the humble maid's quarters in confusion. "Where is the patient?"
"There," Adrien gestured toward the bed where Grace lay unconscious, her breathing becoming increasingly labored. "Fix her. I don't care what medication it takes, what specialist you have to call, or how much it costs. If her condition worsens by even a fraction, you will answer to me personally."
Vance immediately set to work, pulling out a thermometer, an IV bag, and broad-spectrum antibiotics. "It looks like severe double pneumonia brought on by acute exhaustion, Boss. Her fever is nearly 104. If we hadn't started treatment tonight, she might not have made it to the morning."
Adrien’s jaw tightened so hard his teeth clicked. Double pneumonia. She had been dragging her sick, broken body through twelve-hour shifts of washing floors, ironing linens, and polishing shoes because she was terrified of being thrown out into the Chicago winter with her child.
"She will not work another day in this house as a servant," Adrien said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "She is under my personal protection now."
He turned to his chief lieutenant, Mateo—a shadow of a man who had entered the room behind the doctor without making a sound. Mateo was Adrien’s most trusted enforcer, a lethal veteran who had served the Romano family for twenty years.
"Mateo," Adrien said, stepping out into the hallway.
"Don Adrien," Mateo bowed his head. "We swept the perimeter as you ordered. Captain Marcus is currently stationed at the east gate house. He believes you are still in New York."
Adrien handed Mateo the crayon drawing.
Mateo looked down at the crude lines, his sharp eyes instantly deciphering the child's drawing. His face darkened into a dangerous, lethal scowl. "The gate bypass. He installed a receiver on the secondary relay."
"How many men on the night shift belong to Marcus?" Adrien asked softly.
"Four," Mateo replied. "Out of twelve. The rest are loyal to you, but they are posted on the north and west sectors. If Marcus triggers the gate at midnight, a Moretti strike team can enter the east woods and reach the main house in less than two minutes."
Adrien walked to the window at the end of the hall, looking out into the swirling snow that was beginning to fall over the vast lawns of the Greystone estate. The wind howled against the heavy glass, casting distorted shadows across the gardens.
"They want a night of blood," Adrien said softly, his voice devoid of all warmth. "We will give them a lesson in absolute silence."
"Should I execute Marcus now, Don Adrien?" Mateo asked, reaching for the suppressed weapon beneath his coat.
"No," Adrien commanded. "If Marcus misses his check-in, the Moretti team will cancel the breach and fall back into the city. I want the entire snake cut off at its head. Let Marcus trigger the gate. Let them enter the property."
He turned back to Mateo, his dark eyes flashing with a cold, predatory light.
"Set the trap in the east woods. Isolate Marcus's four men quietly before midnight. When the Moretti hit squad steps through that iron gate, I want every single one of them taken alive or dead—preferably alive enough to talk."
"And the girl and her mother?" Mateo asked.
Adrien looked back toward the open door of room four. Inside, Dr. Vance was hanging an IV bag while little Zoe sat beside her mother's pillow, holding Grace's limp hand in her own tiny, clean fingers.
"Move them to my private quarters in the west wing," Adrien ordered. "The master suite. It has reinforced steel doors and bulletproof glass. Station two of your best men inside the room. If a single stray bullet so much as scratches the paint on that door, I will hold you responsible."
Mateo bowed deeply. "It will be done, Boss."
Ten minutes later, Adrien carried a sleeping Zoe up the grand marble staircase toward the master suite—a floor of the mansion no servant had ever been permitted to step foot on.
Grace was carried up on a gurney by Dr. Vance and two trusted guards, placed gently onto the king-sized bed lined with Egyptian cotton sheets.
As the IV fluid began to pump antibiotics into Grace's system, her feverish tossing slowly settled. Her breathing became deeper, more regular.
Zoe was tucked into a soft armchair beside the bed, wrapped in a cashmere throw blanket. Her small hands were wrapped tightly around her brown teddy bear, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion.
Before Adrien stepped out of the room to lead his men into the dark, he stopped beside the armchair. He reached down, tucking the edge of the blanket around the child's shoulders.
Zoe blinked open her big, dark eyes, looking up at the towering mob boss in the dim room.
"Mr. Boss?" she whispered sleepily.
"Call me Adrien, little one," he said softly, kneeling beside her chair.
"Are you going to fix the bad men at the gate?" she asked.
Adrien’s lips pulled into a slow, dark, lethal smile. "Yes, Zoe. I am going to fix them so they never bother your mother again."
"Thank you, Adrien," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep finally claimed her. "Don't ruin your shoes in the snow."
May you like
Adrien felt a strange, unfamiliar warmth bloom in his cold chest. He stood up, drew his custom suppressed P226 pistol from his shoulder holster, and racked the slide with a clean, sharp clack.
"Watch the door," Adrien commanded the two guards standing outside the suite. "Tonight, the Romano house cleans its own floors."
