Chapter 9 - THE NIGHT EVERYTHING BROKEKayla’s labor moved fast.
Too fast.
By the time Josephine examined her, she was already six centimeters.
Dr. Patel was missing.
The nearest hospital had issued a diversion notice after a multi-car accident filled the emergency department.
An ambulance was coming.
Eventually.
Kayla gripped Josephine’s hand.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.”
Outside, Roman coordinated with Boston police.
Not his men.
Police.
The distinction mattered.
Dominic stood nearby.
“You sure?”
Roman looked at him.
“No.”
“Want me to take a team to the warehouse?”
“No.”
“We could get Patel out before SWAT arrives.”
“No.”
Dominic studied him.
“You really changed.”
Roman stared through the clinic doors at Josephine helping Kayla breathe.
“No.”
He thought of Gabriel.
Elena.
Marco.
“I’m trying to.”
Police surrounded warehouse nine at 10:17 p.m.
Salvatore noticed at 10:18.
He called Roman.
“You disappoint me.”
Roman stood outside the clinic.
“You kidnapped a physician.”
“She was convenient.”
“You asked for me.”
“And you brought the state.”
“I’m done playing by your rules.”
Salvatore sighed.
“You think rules make you clean?”
“No.”
“Good. At least Josephine hasn’t made you stupid.”
Roman’s grip tightened.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
“No.”
Salvatore laughed.
“Then Dr. Patel dies.”
Roman closed his eyes.
“You won’t.”
“You sound confident.”
“You need leverage.”
“I had leverage. You brought police.”
A gunshot sounded through the phone.
Roman’s stomach dropped.
Then a woman screamed.
“Salvatore!”
“Midnight,” his uncle said. “Come alone or the next bullet isn’t going into the wall.”
The call ended.
Roman looked at Dominic.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
Roman almost laughed.
“Now you sound like Josephine.”
“Good. She’s usually right.”
“Dominic.”
“If you go, Salvatore shoots you and Patel anyway.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t get to make suicide look like sacrifice.”
Roman stared at him.
Dominic folded his arms.
“We wait for tactical.”
Inside, Kayla screamed.
Josephine checked again.
Eight centimeters.
“Okay,” she said. “Your baby has opinions.”
Kayla cried and laughed at the same time.
“My boyfriend used to say I was too weak to be a mother.”
Josephine wiped hair from her forehead.
“He was wrong.”
“How do you know?”
“Because strength isn’t not being afraid.”
Kayla breathed through another contraction.
“What is it?”
“Choosing while you’re afraid.”
Outside, Roman heard the words through the partially open door.
Choosing while you’re afraid.
His phone buzzed.
A video.
Dr. Patel tied to a chair.
Salvatore behind her.
A countdown clock visible on a warehouse tablet.
Thirty minutes.
Roman looked at the police captain.
“We need to move.”
The captain nodded.
“We are.”
At 10:43, the tactical team entered the warehouse.
At 10:44, gunfire erupted.
At 10:45, Josephine realized Kayla’s baby had a problem.
The fetal heart rate dropped.
“Kayla, roll onto your left side.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Baby’s heart rate dipped. We’re going to change position.”
The monitor recovered briefly.
Then dropped again.
Josephine’s mouth went dry.
Cord issue.
Maybe compression.
She checked.
And felt it.
Umbilical cord prolapse.
“No.”
“What?”
Josephine’s entire body sharpened.
“We need emergency transport now.”
The nurse called EMS again.
“They’re four minutes out!”
“We don’t have four minutes.”
Josephine placed a gloved hand where it needed to be to lift the presenting part off the cord.
She looked at Kayla.
“I need you to listen very carefully.”
Kayla saw her face.
“Is my baby dying?”
“No.”
Josephine refused the word.
“But we have an emergency.”
Roman entered just as Josephine shouted instructions.
“What do you need?”
She looked at him.
“Ambulance access clear. Now.”
Roman ran outside.
A delivery truck had stopped in the lane.
Roman climbed into the cab himself and moved it.
Sirens approached.
At the warehouse, police found Dr. Patel alive.
Salvatore was gone.
Again.
One officer had been wounded.
Matteo, transported from custody after offering to assist investigators, provided the tunnel route Salvatore had used.
Nobody trusted him.
They used the information anyway.
At the clinic, Kayla was loaded into an ambulance while Josephine maintained pressure to protect the cord.
Roman climbed in.
The paramedic looked at him.
“Family?”
Roman looked at Kayla.
“No.”
Josephine said, “He’s with me.”
The paramedic waved him inside.
Roman sat near Josephine.
She never moved her hand.
Never lost focus.
At the hospital, an emergency cesarean was performed within minutes.
A baby girl was born.
Blue.
Silent.
Roman watched through open doors as a neonatal team worked.
Kayla sobbed.
Josephine stood beside her.
Then a cry.
Thin.
Furious.
Alive.
Everyone exhaled.
Roman looked at Josephine.
She smiled.
He understood in that moment why people trusted her.
Not because she promised everything would be fine.
She never did.
Because she stayed when it wasn’t.
After midnight, Dr. Patel arrived.
Bruised.
Shaken.
Alive.
She hugged Josephine for nearly a full minute.
Then slapped Roman.
Hard.
The hallway went silent.
Roman blinked.
Dr. Patel pointed at him.
“That is for every armed lunatic attached to your family name.”
Dominic looked away to hide a smile.
Roman nodded.
“Fair.”
“And if one more criminal enters my clinic—”
“I’m working on it.”
“Work faster.”
She walked away.
Josephine laughed until she cried.
Roman touched his cheek.
“She hits hard.”
“She does Pilates.”
“That explains nothing.”
Josephine leaned against the wall.
For the first time in days, they allowed themselves to breathe.
Then Roman’s phone rang.
Federal prosecutor.
He answered.
The conversation lasted three minutes.
When he hung up, Josephine knew.
“What?”
Roman sat.
“They’re filing charges against me tomorrow.”
She went still.
“What charges?”
“Racketeering conspiracy. Obstruction. Financial crimes.”
Her throat tightened.
“Prison?”
“Possibly.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
Josephine sat beside him.
Roman looked at his hands.
“I knew this was coming.”
“I know.”
“I thought I’d feel relieved.”
“And?”
“I’m scared.”
She touched his hand.
He looked at her.
“Good,” she said.
He almost laughed.
“Good?”
“Means you understand it matters.”
Roman turned his palm up.
Their fingers intertwined.
“What happens to us?”
Josephine did not give him an easy answer.
“I don’t know.”
He nodded.
That hurt more than a promise would have helped.
“But,” she continued, “I’m not disappearing because consequences showed up.”
Roman’s eyes lifted.
“I won’t lie for you.”
“I know.”
“I won’t defend things you did.”
“I know.”
“I won’t turn your crimes into some tragic romance.”
His mouth curved sadly.
“Very poetic.”
“But I will show up when you’re trying to become better than them.”
Roman squeezed her hand.
Across the city, Salvatore DeLuca entered a church he had not visited in twenty years.
He sat in the last pew.
Matteo appeared from the shadows.
Salvatore looked up sharply.
“You’re supposed to be in custody.”
“I made a deal.”
Salvatore’s face twisted.
“You betrayed family.”
Matteo laughed bitterly.
“You kidnapped Elena.”
“You helped.”
“I know.”
That truth hung between them.
Matteo sat.
“They’re coming for you.”
“They always were.”
“You can run.”
Salvatore looked toward the altar.
“I’m seventy-one.”
“So?”
“I have spent fifty years teaching boys that dying for pride makes them men.”
He smiled without humor.
“Maybe it’s time I test the lesson.”
Matteo looked at him.
“You’re planning something.”
Salvatore said nothing.
Then he placed a photograph on the pew.
Roman.
Josephine.
Gabriel.
Elena.
Marco.
A family beginning to form.
Salvatore tapped Josephine’s face.
“He thinks she saved him.”
Matteo felt cold.
“What are you doing?”
Salvatore stood.
“I’m going to teach him the final rule.”
“What rule?”
May you like
Salvatore buttoned his coat.
“If you love something more than power, power will always know where to put the knife.”
