Chapter 3 - The Resuscitation
Down in the servants' quarters, the defibrillator pads slapped against Clara's chest with a sickening wet snap.
"Charge to two hundred," the lead medic shouted, his forehead slick with sweat. "Clear!"
The machine whined, delivering a violent jolt that arched Clara's body off the narrow cot. The monitor flatlined with a prolonged, agonizing tone.
"Again! Charge to three hundred. Clear!"
Outside the doorway, Lorenzo stood with Lily in his arms. The little girl had buried her face in the crook of his neck, her tiny fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt so tightly her knuckles were white. She didn't make a sound, but Lorenzo could feel the rapid, terrified thumping of her heart against his ribs. It mirrored the frantic rhythm of his own.
"She's back," a medic gasped, peering at the green spikes dancing across the monitor. "We have a sinus rhythm. Weak, but stable. But boss... she's not waking up naturally. Her nervous system is completely paralyzed by neurotoxins. She was poisoned, and whatever agent was used, it's still active in her bloodstream."
Lorenzo stepped into the room, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the bed. Clara looked pale as marble, her lips tinged with a faint, unnatural blue. Yet, beneath the sickness, her features were undeniably those of Elena Vance. The woman he had spent half a decade searching for had been sleeping fifty yards from his bed every single night.
"Get her to the private underground clinic," Lorenzo ordered, his voice laced with iron. "Bring Dr. Althaus. If she dies, every man on this floor answers to me."
He looked down at Lily, who lifted her tear-stained face to look at him.
"Is Mama sleeping?" the little girl whispered, her big brown eyes searching his face for comfort.
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Lorenzo Moretti, a man who had executed traitors without blinking and built an empire on blood and fear, felt a sudden, crushing weight in his throat. He smoothed a stray lock of dark hair away from Lily's forehead.
"No, little one," Lorenzo murmured, his tone softening in a way Marco had never witnessed in thirty years of service. "Your mama is fighting. And we are going to help her win."
