Chapter 8
Dr. Mercer administered a fast-acting painkiller directly into my shoulder, dulling the agonizing fire in my arm.
Two paramedics carefully lifted me onto a heavy carbon-fiber stretcher, securing my neck and arm.
As they rolled me toward the private elevator, I looked back over my shoulder at Ethan.
Ethan was pinned to the floor under a guard’s heavy combat boot, his face twisted in pure terror.
“Vincent Moretti?” Ethan gasped, finally recognizing the legendary mob boss’s face from dark news reports.
“You... you can’t be her father! She worked in a diner!”
Vincent stood up slowly, wiping a speck of dust from his black overcoat with terrifying composure.
He turned to face Ethan, leaning heavily on his gold lion walking stick.
“She worked in a diner because she wanted an honest life away from my dark world,” Vincent explained softly.
“And you treated her like trash because you thought she had no protection.”
Vanessa began to weep hysterically against the counter. “Please! I didn't do anything! It was all Ethan!”
Vincent didn't even turn his head toward her screeching voice.
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“Take the girl to the dock facility,” Vincent ordered his tactical commander coldly.
“And leave the husband with me.”
