Chapter 4 - THE SERRANO BLOODLINEAdrian found Emily trying to climb out of bed.
“Under the bed.”
Emily stared at him.
“I can barely move.”
“Then I’m moving you.”
Before she could protest, he disconnected only the lines that could safely move with the bed and released the brakes.
Gabriel positioned himself beside the door.
“Security teams are coming from the west stairwell.”
“How many attackers?”
“At least four. Possibly six.”
Emily gripped the blanket.
“People are attacking a hospital because of me?”
Adrian pushed the bed toward the adjoining surgical recovery room.
“They’re attacking because somebody wants you dead.”
“That distinction isn’t helping.”
Another burst of gunfire echoed.
Adrian pushed faster.
Despite everything, Emily noticed how controlled he remained.
Not fearless.
Controlled.
There was a difference.
She had spent years serving drunk businessmen who pretended aggression made them powerful.
Adrian’s power looked different.
Quiet.
Calculated.
Terrifying.
They entered an empty recovery suite.
Adrian pushed her behind a thick interior wall.
“Stay here.”
Emily caught his wrist.
He looked down.
“Don’t leave me.”
She hated the fear in her own voice.
His expression softened.
“I’m standing ten feet away.”
“That counts as leaving when people are shooting.”
“I won’t let them reach you.”
“How can you promise that?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Because they’ll reach me first.”
He turned away.
Emily stared after him.
For the first time since waking, she understood something disturbing.
Whatever else Adrian Vale was, he meant that promise.
The attackers never reached the sixth floor.
Vale security intercepted three near the elevators.
Police captured another two.
One escaped.
Two hospital guards were wounded.
No civilians were killed.
But the message was unmistakable.
Someone was willing to launch a military-style assault inside a Manhattan hospital to reach Emily Carter.
By sunrise, Adrian made a decision.
“She leaves today.”
Dr. Marcus Klein nearly exploded.
“She had seven gunshot wounds forty-eight hours ago!”
“I have medical facilities at my estate.”
“You have a mansion.”
“I have a private surgical suite.”
The doctor blinked.
Adrian continued.
“Two trauma nurses, a cardiothoracic specialist, and a physician will remain on-site.”
“Who keeps a surgical suite inside their home?”
Emily spoke from the bed.
“Apparently my fake husband.”
Both men looked at her.
She had heard the entire argument.
“You aren’t moving me anywhere without asking.”
Adrian folded his arms.
“I’m asking.”
“No.”
“Someone attacked the hospital.”
“I noticed.”
“This location is compromised.”
“And your mansion isn’t?”
“It’s safer.”
“How safe?”
“Bullet-resistant windows, independent power, twenty-four-hour security, underground access tunnels, and enough surveillance equipment to disappoint anyone who enjoys privacy.”
Emily considered this.
“Do you have coffee?”
“Excellent coffee.”
“Real food?”
“When your doctor allows it.”
“Guest rooms?”
“Forty-two.”
She stared.
“That’s not a house. That’s an insecurity problem.”
Dr. Klein covered a smile.
Adrian ignored him.
Emily sighed.
“Fine.”
Vale House stood on fourteen private acres north of the city.
Emily arrived in an ambulance accompanied by medical staff and enough armed SUVs to invade a small country.
She expected marble everywhere.
Instead, the estate surprised her.
Old stone.
Dark oak.
Gardens.
Large windows overlooking the Hudson.
It felt less like a gangster fortress and more like a European manor someone had hidden inside New York.
Her room overlooked the river.
Adrian had already converted it into a private recovery suite.
Emily looked around.
“This was planned fast.”
“I have efficient staff.”
“People say that when they terrify everyone.”
Adrian moved toward the door.
“Rest.”
“Wait.”
He stopped.
Emily looked at the ring.
“We’re getting this annulled.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“When you’re safe.”
“That wasn’t a condition.”
“It is now.”
She glared.
He left before she could throw anything.
Two floors below, Gabriel waited inside Adrian’s office.
Benjamin Holt sat tied to a chair.
The accountant was sweating.
Adrian entered.
Holt immediately began talking.
“I didn’t know they were going to shoot anyone.”
Adrian shut the door.
“You met a Ferra operative.”
“They paid me for information.”
“What information?”
“Guest lists. Schedules. Security rotations.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“Why Emily?”
Holt swallowed.
“I didn’t know her name.”
Adrian placed Emily’s gala photograph on the desk.
Holt looked away.
“You recognize her.”
“No.”
Adrian did not raise his voice.
“You’re lying.”
Holt began shaking.
Gabriel placed another photograph beside the first.
Helena Vale.
Taken twenty-eight years earlier.
The resemblance was undeniable.
Holt whispered, “Jesus.”
Adrian noticed.
“You know Helena.”
“No.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I swear.”
Adrian leaned against the desk.
“Benjamin, you’ve worked for me eight years. You know I don’t enjoy unnecessary violence.”
Holt stared.
“That sentence is supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
Adrian slid a third photograph forward.
Dominic Ferra.
“Tell me why Dominic wants my niece.”
Holt’s lips trembled.
“He doesn’t.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“What?”
“Dominic Ferra doesn’t want her dead.”
“His nephew fired the gun.”
“Louis went rogue.”
“Why?”
Holt closed his eyes.
“Because someone paid him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Gabriel slammed his palm onto the desk.
“Who?”
Holt flinched.
“There’s another family.”
Adrian went still.
“What family?”
“The Serranos.”
Gabriel glanced at Adrian.
The Serrano family had vanished from New York organized crime nearly twenty years ago after a devastating war.
Their leader, Raphael Serrano, was believed dead.
Holt continued.
“They’re back.”
Adrian’s voice lowered.
“Why Emily?”
Holt breathed deeply.
“Because Helena Vale didn’t disappear to escape your father.”
“She disappeared because of the Serranos?”
“No.”
Holt looked directly at Adrian.
“She disappeared with one.”
Upstairs, Emily woke from a nightmare.
A woman was standing beside her bed.
Emily nearly screamed.
Then she recognized the uniform.
One of the estate housekeepers.
Older woman.
Silver hair.
Kind face.
“I’m sorry, Miss Carter.”
“It’s okay.”
The woman held a tray.
“Mr. Vale asked that you eat something.”
Emily looked at the soup.
“Does he issue orders to vegetables too?”
The woman smiled.
“Only when necessary.”
She turned to leave.
Emily noticed a small pendant around her neck.
A silver rose.
Her heart stopped.
“Where did you get that?”
The woman froze.
Emily struggled upright.
“That necklace.”
The housekeeper touched it instinctively.
“My sister gave it to me.”
Emily stared.
“My mother had one exactly like it.”
Silence.
The woman’s face drained of color.
“What was your mother’s name?”
“Rose Carter.”
The tray slipped from the woman’s hands.
It crashed onto the floor.
Emily jumped.
The woman backed away.
“No.”
“What?”
“Your name.”
“Emily.”
The woman stared as if she had seen a ghost.
Then tears filled her eyes.
“Emily Rose?”
Emily’s breath caught.
“Yes.”
The woman covered her mouth.
“Oh, Helena.”
Emily grabbed the bed rail.
“You knew her?”
The woman did not answer.
She rushed toward the door.
Emily shouted.
“WAIT!”
But she was already gone.
Emily reached for the call button.
Then she noticed something.
The woman had dropped a small folded photograph beside the soup tray.
Emily stretched painfully and picked it up.
Two young women stood together in the picture.
One was Rose Carter.
The other looked almost exactly like Emily.
May you like
On the back, written in faded ink, were five words.
Helena, before everything went wrong.
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