Part 2: A Crime Boss Followed His Housekeeper to the Hospital and Discovered She Was Paying for His Worst Sin

Before Claire could answer, the heavy oak door of the study swung open.

Wesley strode in, his overcoat damp from the morning mist. He stopped dead when he saw Claire sitting in the leather armchair. His eyes darted from Claire to Roman, reading the dangerous tension in the room instantly.

"Boss," Wesley said, his voice clipped. "Doran’s people just hit the warehouse on 4th Street. We need to move."

Claire immediately rose to her feet, ducking her head. "Excuse me, sir. I’ll finish the guest rooms."

She slipped out of the room like a ghost, closing the heavy doors behind her with a barely audible click.

Roman didn't look at Wesley. His eyes remained fixed on the door through which Claire had vanished. "What happened at 4th Street?"

"Doran sent five guys with bats and crowbars," Wesley said, stepping to the desk. "They didn't steal product. They just smashed the place up and left a message for you. Doran says he knows you’ve been distracted. He says he knows your car was spotted parked near Bellweather Children’s Hospital last night."

Roman’s head snapped toward Wesley. The air in the room suddenly turned suffocating. "What did you say?"

"Doran had a spotter near the bridge," Wesley admitted, his face grim. "They saw your sedan pull into the hospital parking garage around 11:00 p.m. Doran thinks you’re sick, Roman. He thinks you’ve got cancer or you’re seeing a specialist in secret, and he smells blood in the water. He thinks the empire’s king is dying."

A terrifying smile touched Roman’s lips—the cold, dead smile that usually preceded a massacre.

"Let him think I’m sick," Roman whispered.

"Boss, if Doran digs into that hospital, he’s going to find out you were on the pediatric floor," Wesley warned. "If he connects you to whatever you went there to see—"

"He won't connect me to anything," Roman said, rising slowly from behind his desk. "Because Doran isn't going to live long enough to finish his investigation."

Roman walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the manicured lawn. Down below, by the perimeter hedges, Claire was carrying a basket of hedge trimmers, her slight frame battling against the biting wind.

If Patrick Doran discovered Mateo Reyes, the child wouldn't just be an innocent bystander anymore. Doran was a hyena who used children and women as bargaining chips. He would take that boy from his bed, strip off his braces, and dangle him over a meat grinder just to make Roman sign over the harbor docks.

Roman turned back to Wesley. "Double the guard on the estate. Put four unmarked cars around Bellweather Hospital starting right now. Nobody wearing colors, nobody showing iron. If a fly lands on the fourth floor of that hospital without hospital scrubs, put a bullet in its head."

Wesley nodded once, recognizing the absolute finality in the command. "And what about Claire?"