Chapter 3 - THE VAULT BENEATH THE FLOORBOARDSThe panic room was less of a shelter and more of a subterranean bunker carved out of solid limestone. Massive steel reinforced doors hissed shut behind us, sealing out the echoes of gunfire and shattering glass from above.
Emergency red strip-lighting flickered to life, casting long, crimson shadows across rows of server racks, weapon lockers, and a medical cot in the corner.
Matteo set a crying Leo into a padded crib, then finally turned to face me. The mask of absolute coldness was gone, replaced by a raw, exhausted desperation that terrified me more than his anger.
"Are you bleeding?" he demanded, his hand reaching out instinctively toward my neck before he stopped himself, pulling his fingers back as if burned.
I touched my throat. My fingertips came away smeared with a thin streak of crimson. "It’s a scratch. Julian said... he said I was the bait."
Matteo turned away, walking over to a mahogany desk, pouring a heavy measure of scotch into a glass, though he didn't drink it. He just stared at the amber liquid.
"Julian wasn't entirely wrong," Matteo said quietly, his voice hollow. "Someone leaked my son’s medical file three weeks ago. Someone knew Leo had a dangerous allergy to small plastics, and someone bribed the previous nanny to leave that bead on the rug."
My breath hitched. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying the attempt on my son’s life wasn't an accident, Elena. It was an audition." Matteo turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine with terrifying clarity. "And you walked right into the casting call. Only... you saved him instead of letting him choke. That threw off the entire timeline."
"Who?" I demanded, stepping forward, forgetting for a moment that this man was a syndicate leader who killed without blinking. "Who set me up?"
Before Matteo could answer, the security monitors on the far wall flickered to life.
Static hissed across twelve screens. Then, the camera feed from the main foyer cleared. A group of masked men in tactical black gear stood in the center of the marble floor. At their head stood a man holding a familiar silver pocket watch—a watch I hadn't seen since the night my hospital career was destroyed in a fire two years ago.
My blood turned to ice water.
"Do you know him?" Matteo asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched me sway on my feet.
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"He's not mafia," I whispered, the horror choking off my breath. "That’s Agent Vance... Julian’s brother. Federal anti-corruption division."
Matteo’s expression darkened into an abyss. "Wrong, Elena. He’s not federal anymore. He’s the man who bought your old hospital."
