Chapter 12 - THE HOSPITAL
The abandoned hospital still had emergency power.
That alone told Vincent how long Anthony had prepared.
Hallways smelled of dust, mold, and old disinfectant.
Vincent entered through the main doors alone.
At least that was what Anthony was supposed to believe.
Rafael and Sofia entered through the lower service tunnels.
Dominic circled around the ambulance bay.
Isabella stayed at the estate with Emily.
Vincent carried the pocket watch.
“Anthony!”
His voice echoed.
A speaker crackled.
“Third floor.”
Vincent climbed.
Every door seemed to hold a memory.
Hospitals had always made him uneasy.
His father.
Sofia’s disappearance.
Funerals.
Now Grace.
The third-floor operating theater had been transformed into a command room.
Computer monitors.
Security feeds.
Boxes of records.
And Grace.
She sat tied to a chair.
Anthony Moretti stood behind her.
He was thinner than Vincent remembered.
Older.
But very much alive.
“You look disappointed,” Anthony said.
Vincent looked at Grace.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
Anthony smiled.
“Always the protector.”
Vincent held up the watch.
“Let her go.”
“First, give me that.”
Vincent tossed the watch onto the floor between them.
Anthony stared.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“You asked for it.”
Anthony laughed.
“You really did become soft.”
“No. I learned patience.”
Anthony’s smile faded.
Vincent looked at Grace.
“Are you Elena?”
Grace’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
The word landed hard.
Vincent swallowed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Your father made my adoptive parents promise.”
“My father knew you were alive?”
“Yes.”
“Why send you away?”
“To protect me from Anthony.”
Anthony laughed.
“Lorenzo always loved drama.”
Grace stared at him.
“You tried to kill a baby.”
“I tried to remove a future legal problem.”
Vincent lunged.
Anthony raised a gun to Grace’s head.
“Careful.”
Vincent stopped.
Anthony looked almost amused.
“Your father discovered too late that blood makes poor men sentimental.”
“You murdered Michael.”
“Yes.”
“You kidnapped Sofia.”
“Yes.”
“You spent years inside my companies.”
“Yes.”
Vincent stared.
“Why?”
Anthony looked offended by the question.
“Because you took my family from me.”
Vincent shook his head.
“No. You lost control because people stopped being afraid of you.”
Anthony’s face darkened.
“You think restaurants and construction contracts made us respectable?”
“No.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“But it made fewer children bury their fathers.”
Anthony’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Then another voice came from the doorway.
“And some of us are tired of burying people.”
Sofia stood there.
Anthony spun.
Vincent moved.
A shot exploded.
Grace screamed.
Vincent hit Anthony.
The gun slid across the floor.
Sofia kicked it away.
Then someone fired from behind her.
She jerked.
Vincent shouted her name.
Sofia fell.
Behind her stood Charles Bellamy.
May you like
Gun raised.
And smiling.
