Chapter 4 - The Unseen Shadow
By 6:00 a.m., Wyatt had been settled into a glass-walled room in the PICU. Through the glass, Josephine could see her ten-year-old brother hooked up to monitors, a ventilator tube assisting his breathing, but his cheeks bore a soft, pink color they hadn't seen in months.
She sat in the armchair beside his bed, holding his small, cool hand in hers.
Raphael stood outside the room, leaning against the hallway wall. He had refused a chair, maintaining an alert, motionless guard that made passing nurses glance at him with a mix of awe and anxiety. He looked out of place—a man whose bespoke suit cost more than the hospital room’s daily rate, carrying an aura of lethal authority that no sterile environment could mask.
Gideon arrived at 6:45 a.m., carrying two warm travel mugs of espresso and a sealed leather envelope.
“The surgeon spoke to me outside,” Gideon murmured, handing Raphael a cup. “The boy will survive. But the hospital bills... they’re already upwards of eighty thousand dollars. Her aunt has no insurance.”
“Pay it,” Raphael said without hesitation. “Anonymously. Under the Orsini Medical Trust.”
“Consider it done,” Gideon replied. He lowered his voice, stepping closer. “There’s another matter. Luca Moretti knows you skipped the council meeting last night. He had men tracking your car when you crossed into Massachusetts.”
Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “Where are they?”
“Two scouts in an unmarked sedan were spotted in the hospital parking garage thirty minutes ago,” Gideon said grimly. “They think you’re vulnerable out here without your perimeter team. They think you’re visiting a mistress.”
A dark, dangerous coldness washed over Raphael’s features. He glanced through the glass at Josephine, who was softly humming a lullaby to her sleeping brother, completely oblivious to the war breathing down her neck.
“Tell Tomas and the boys to clear the garage,” Raphael instructed softly, his tone flat and unyielding. “Quietly. No police. No noise that reaches this floor.”
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“And Moretti?”
“Moretti thinks he can strike at my weakness,” Raphael whispered, his knuckles turning white around his mug. “He doesn't realize he’s just given me a reason to tear his empire down to the ground.”
