Chapter 4 - The King Awakes
The private medical wing located beneath the eastern wing of the Vance Manor smelled intensely of antiseptic, ozone, and cold steel. It was a fully equipped surgical theater built specifically for situations Dante could never bring to a public hospital without inviting federal subpoenas or rival gang assassinations.
Thirty-six hours had passed since the catastrophe on the grand staircase.
The steady, rhythmic beep of a heart monitor provided the only sound in the dimly lit recovery suite. Dante Vance lay in the center of the room, wired to multiple IV drips. His fractured ribs were tightly wrapped, his left arm was immobilized in a medical sling, and four stitches pulled together the deep gash above his brow.
Slowly, the heavy fog of surgical anesthesia began to peel away from his consciousness.
Dante groaned, his throat dry as sandpaper. He tried to move his left fingers, relieved when a sharp spike of pain confirmed his nervous system was fully intact. He wasn’t paralyzed.
“Don’t try to sit up,” a soft, exhausted voice murmured from the shadows beside his bed.
Dante turned his head slowly.
Elena sat in a worn leather armchair tucked against the wall. She was still wearing the blue cotton maid’s dress, though it was now covered by a large, oversized cashmere cardigan that belonged to Dante. A white medical bandage was wrapped neatly around her left wrist, and a pale purple bruise darkened her cheekbone.
Curled up in her lap, fast asleep, was Lily. The little girl had her arms wrapped around Elena’s waist, her small face buried in the soft knit of the sweater, sleeping peacefully for the first time in days.
Dante’s chest tightened with an emotion he hadn't felt in nearly a decade. Gratitude. Raw and overwhelming.
“Elena,” he whispered, his voice cracked and gravelly.
Elena gently shifted Lily so as not to wake her, reaching for a glass of water on the nightstand. She held the straw to his lips, supporting the back of his head with an instinctively tender touch.
“Slowly,” she advised softly. “You suffered a severe concussion, two cracked ribs, and a dislocated shoulder. Dr. Morales had to reset your clavicle. You’re lucky to be alive.”
Dante swallowed the cold water, closing his eyes for a moment to let the hydration settle the fire in his throat. When he opened them, his gaze locked onto hers.
“You didn’t leave,” he said simply.
Elena gave a faint, tired smile that barely reached her eyes. “Where would I go, Mr. Vance? Miss Lily wouldn’t let go of my hand when the paramedics came. She was terrified they were going to hurt you.”
Dante reached out his right hand, his rough, calloused fingers gently brushing against the bandage on Elena’s wrist. “Vivienne did this to you.”
“It’s just a scratch,” she lied quietly.
“It’s not just a scratch. She used an iron banister to pin you down,” Dante’s voice grew darker, the chill returning to his tone. “And Marco hit you.”
“Marco was desperate. He knew what you would do to him.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed into slits of midnight. “Where is he?”
Before Elena could answer, the heavy steel door of the medical suite clicked open. Leo Moretti stepped in, wearing a fresh suit, though dark circles under his eyes betrayed two days without sleep. He carried a leather folder under his arm.
Seeing Dante awake, Leo visibly relaxed, letting out a heavy breath.
“Boss,” Leo said, bowing his head slightly. “Thank God. The doctor said if you had struck the bottom step two inches to the left, your neck would have snapped like a dry twig.”
“Report, Leo,” Dante demanded, ignoring the doctor's prognosis entirely. “Where are they?”
Leo glanced at Elena, then down at the sleeping child. Dante caught the hesitation.
“Elena stays,” Dante ordered firmly. “She proved her allegiance in blood while the rest of my inner circle was drinking Vivienne’s poisoned champagne. Speak.”
Leo nodded grimly, stepping closer to the bed.
“Marco is in the sub-basement bunker,” Leo said. “Morales patched up his shoulder enough to keep him awake. We ran his personal phone and bank records through our tech team. What we found… it’s far worse than an inside robbery, Dante.”
“Explain,” Dante whispered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the bedsheet.
“Marco wasn’t acting alone, and he wasn’t just trying to rob Lily’s trust,” Leo opened the folder, pulling out bank transfers and encrypted email printouts. “Three months ago, Marco opened an offshore account in the Cayman Islands. A shell company deposited twelve million dollars into that account. That shell company traces directly back to the Moretti-Petrov syndicate in Chicago.”
Dante’s jaw set hard. The Chicago syndicate was his fiercest rival, a brutal coalition that had been trying to seize his shipping ports and distribution routes for three years.
“Vivienne was their plant,” Dante deduced, his mind connecting the dots with ruthless speed.
“Yes,” Leo confirmed. “Her real name isn’t Vivienne Dubois. Her real name is Valerie Petrov. She’s the younger half-sister of Viktor Petrov. She was sent here to seduce you, push you into a marriage contract with automatic survivor clauses, and then eliminate you. Marco was bought off to ensure your personal detail looked the other way during the ‘accident’.”
Elena gasped softly from the chair. The cruelty of the plot was staggering. They hadn’t just wanted Dante’s money—they wanted to obliterate his entire legacy, leaving a traumatized nine-year-old girl as a ward of the state while they plundered his empire.
“And Valerie?” Dante asked, his voice deathly quiet. “Is she captured?”
Leo looked down at the floor, a flicker of failure crossing his hardened features.
“She found the old drainage tunnel beneath the greenhouse,” Leo admitted reluctantly. “The one sealed during the winter storm. The grate was cut from the outside three days ago. Someone was waiting for her on the perimeter road. A black SUV picked her up before my perimeter sweep could reach the treeline.”
Dante didn’t shout. He didn't slam his fist against the bed. That was not how a Don operated. The fury in his eyes burned so cold it seemed to freeze the air in the room.
“She’s with Petrov,” Dante stated.
“Yes, boss,” Leo replied. “And an hour ago, our wiretaps intercepted a priority transmission from Chicago. Petrov has activated fifty of his top hitters. They know Marco failed to eliminate you cleanly, and they know the wedding contract is void.”
“So they are coming for the manor,” Dante said.
May you like
“They’re coming to finish what she started,” Leo nodded. “They want the city, Dante. And they want Lily dead so there are no legal heirs to dispute the assets.”
***
