Chapter 5
The assassin swung a heavy left hook, but Ethan blocked it easily, grabbing the killer’s wrist and slamming it against the steel handrail until the gun clattered down the stairs.
Ethan drove his elbow into the man's jaw, pinning him against the wall with a forearm crushed against his throat.
"Who sent you?" Ethan growled, his eyes cold and lifeless like frozen steel.
The assassin choked for air, blood spilling from his lip, but he sneered in defiance.
"You're already dead, Cross," the killer wheezed out. "The Vance family owns this city... you can't protect her..."
Ethan reached into the assassin's pocket, pulling out an empty syringe labeled with a lethal dose of potassium chloride.
"You tried to stop her heart," Ethan whispered, his voice dropping into a chilling whisper.
Ethan twisted the man's arm behind his back with brutal efficiency, forcing him down onto the concrete landing.
"Give me a name, or you will spend the rest of your short life learning what real pain feels like," Ethan warned.
The killer panicked under the sheer weight of Ethan's terrifying presence.
"Julian! Julian Vance!" the killer shrieked. "He paid me fifty grand to finish her off in the ICU!"
Julian Vance was the youngest son of Marcus Vance—a ruthless playboy who managed the family’s underground operations in South Chicago.
Ethan pulled a pair of heavy zip-ties from the killer's own tactical belt, binding his hands and feet tightly to the steel stair railing.
"Tell Julian I'm coming for him," Ethan said coldly, retrieving the fallen suppressed pistol from the floor.
Ethan hurried back up the stairs into Clara's ICU room.
Doctor Evans was standing over Clara, wiping sweat from his forehead as the heart monitor stabilized into a slow, steady rhythm.
"We got her back," Doctor Evans breathed out a sigh of relief. "Her blood pressure spiked mysteriously, but she's stable now."
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Ethan walked to Clara's bedside, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"I'm going to finish this, my love," Ethan whispered softly into her ear. "Rest now."
