Chapter 11 - The Breach
The private clinic on St. Paul Street had been entirely secured for my appointment. Because of Dominic’s influence and resources, the third floor of the maternal-fetal medicine center had been closed to the public for the morning. Four of Dominic’s armed men were stationed in plain clothes in the lobby, while Matteo and another guard stood vigil just outside the examination room door.
The sonogram room was dim and quiet. Dominic sat in the armchair beside the examination table, holding my left hand tightly in his as the technician applied warm gel to my belly.
"There’s the spine," the technician said cheerfully, pointing to the monitor. "Strong, healthy bones. Fluid levels look exceptional, Mrs. Varela. Would you like to know the sex today?"
Dominic looked at me, a question in his eyes.
"Yes," I breathed, my heart fluttering with anticipation. "We want to know."
"Well, looking right here..." The technician smiled, leaning closer to the screen. "You are going to have a—"
*CLACK.*
The lights in the room suddenly flickered and died.
Instantly, the ultrasound monitor cut to black. The hum of the medical equipment vanished, replaced by an eerie, heavy silence. A second later, the dull red emergency back-up lights sputtered on, casting long, bloody shadows across the walls.
"What happened?" the technician gasped, standing up in confusion. "The main power grid never fails here—"
Before she could finish her sentence, the sharp, muffled *crack-crack* of suppressed gunfire echoed from down the hallway.
Dominic was on his feet before the sound had even faded. In one fluid, practiced motion, his hand went beneath his suit jacket, drawing a black semiautomatic pistol with cold, deadly precision.
"Dominic!" I cried out, my hands clutching my stomach as panic seized my throat.
"Stay down, Clara. Behind the table, now!" he commanded, his voice dropping into the terrifying, absolute register of a predator under attack.
A heavy body slammed against the outside of our examination room door, followed by a wet groan and the distinct thud of someone collapsing to the linoleum floor.
"Matteo!" Dominic called out sharply toward the closed door.
No answer.
Only the heavy, dragging sound of footsteps approaching down the hallway.
Suddenly, the fire alarm began to wail, a deafening, pulsing siren accompanied by strobe lights that strove to blind and disorient anyone in the room. Then came the crackle of Dominic’s encrypted radio on his hip.
"Boss!" a voice shouted through static over the radio. "It's an ambush! Explosives took out the transformer in the alley! We’re cut off on the ground floor—they’ve compromised the medical elevators—"
The radio hissed into dead silence.
"Dominic, please," I sobbed, shrinking into the corner behind the exam table, clutching the sheet to my chest, the cold gel still wet against my exposed stomach.
Dominic stepped between me and the door, his weapon raised, his eyes narrowed with lethal focus. "I won't let them touch you, Clara. Not while I live."
From the ceiling ventilation grate above the far corner of the room, a metal canister dropped with a clatter, hissing thick, white smoke into the air—tear gas.
"Cover your mouth!" Dominic roared, moving toward the vent to kick the canister away.
At that exact second, the heavy steel door to the examination room didn't get kicked down.
Instead, the lock clicked with a clean, smooth turn of a master key.
The door swung slowly open through the billowing white fog.
Standing in the doorway was not a masked mercenary or a syndicate hitman.
It was Ethan.
He was dressed in a pristine doctor’s white lab coat, his face eerily calm, his eyes bloodshot and dilated with an unhinged, manic obsession. In his right hand, he held a heavy, silenced pistol. In his left, he held a surgical syringe filled with clear liquid.
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He looked past Dominic, his wild, deranged gaze locking directly onto me cowering in the corner.
"Hello, Clara," Ethan whispered over the shriek of the fire alarm. "I told you that you'd regret leaving me. Now come here... we're taking our baby home."
