Chapter 2 - The Price of Staying Alive
Emma woke to the steady beeping of a heart monitor.
For several seconds, she couldn't remember where she was. Then the pain in her side brought everything rushing back: the shattered glass, the terrified child, the dark-haired man kneeling beside her.
A nurse noticed her open eyes.
"Welcome back. Don't try to move."
"How long?"
"Almost fourteen hours."
Emma swallowed.
"My brother. I need my phone."
"Your family has been contacted."
Fear immediately replaced confusion.
"By whom?"
Before the nurse could answer, the door opened.
Damian Vescari entered carrying a paper cup of coffee he clearly hadn't touched.
He looked different without the ballroom's expensive lighting. There were shadows beneath his eyes, and his black shirt was wrinkled.
But the authority surrounding him remained unchanged.
"Your brother is safe," he said.
Emma stared at him.
"You found Daniel?"
"I sent someone to check on him. He's at home with a nurse. His medication has been delivered."
"You can't just send strangers to my apartment."
"I can when someone has tried to kill you."
She attempted to sit up.
Pain stopped her immediately.
"Who tried to kill me?"
"That's what I'm investigating."
"Then investigate. Don't take over my life."
Damian studied her with an expression she couldn't read.
"You're not afraid of me."
"I don't know you."
"Most people are afraid before they know me."
"Maybe that's your problem."
For the first time, something resembling amusement crossed his face.
Then he placed a folder on the bedside table.
Inside was a check for one million dollars.
Emma stared at it.
"What is this?"
"Compensation."
She looked up sharply.
"Compensation for what? Getting hurt while doing my job?"
"For saving my son."
"I didn't save him for money."
"I know."
"Then take it away."
Damian didn't move.
"You have medical expenses. Your brother needs treatment. I was told you've been working two jobs."
Emma's face grew hot.
"Who told you that?"
"My people."
"You investigated me?"
"I needed to know whether you were connected to the attack."
She turned her face away.
"I should have let your security guards do their jobs."
"No." His voice became unexpectedly quiet. "You did what none of my guards managed to do. You saw a child in danger, and you moved."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Emma asked the question that had been haunting her.
"Was that glass meant for Luca?"
Damian's expression hardened.
"I believe so."
"Why would anyone want to hurt a six-year-old?"
"Because some people think a child is the easiest way to destroy a father."
Emma looked at the check again.
"I won't accept your money."
"Then consider it a debt."
"I don't owe you anything."
"You owe me nothing," Damian said. "But I owe you everything."
He picked up the folder.
"Your medical bills will be covered. No conditions. No negotiations."
"Mr. Vescari—"
"Damian."
She said nothing.
He reached the door before stopping.
"Luca wants to see you. I told him he could come tomorrow if the doctors approve it."
Emma's expression softened.
"Tell him I'm okay."
"I will."
After he left, Emma stared at the ceiling.
She should have felt relieved.
Instead, she felt as if she had stepped into a world whose rules she didn't understand.
Across the city, Marco was examining security footage from Bellamy House.
At 8:43 p.m., a waiter had entered the upper service corridor.
At 8:46 p.m., the balcony door opened.
At 8:47 p.m., the glass shattered.
The waiter disappeared from every camera afterward.
Marco enlarged one frame.
The man's face was partially hidden, but a silver ring glinted on his right hand.
Marco recognized the emblem.
It belonged to the Vescari family.
He called Damian immediately.
"Boss, we have a problem."
Damian answered from the hospital elevator.
"Tell me."
"The person who threw the glass was wearing our family ring."
Damian's jaw tightened.
"Find him."
"We're trying."
"No, Marco. Find out who gave him that ring."
When Damian returned to Emma's room an hour later, she was asleep.
A folded photograph rested on her blanket.
It showed Emma as a child, standing beside a woman with dark hair.
On the back, someone had written four words.
YOUR MOTHER LIED TO YOU.
Damian recognized the handwriting.
May you like
It belonged to Anthony.
And suddenly, the attack at Bellamy House looked less like an assassination attempt and more like the beginning of a war.
