Chapter 3 - DUST AND SHADOWSThe cold was a living creature. It wrapped around my ribs, squeezing the air out of my lungs until every breath felt like inhaling ground glass.
2:10 a.m.
My muscles were locked in violent spasms. I couldn't reach the call button for the guards. I couldn't even lift my hand to knock over the lamp. Vanessa’s poison was doing its final, horrifying work—shutting down my central nervous system piece by piece.
2:14 a.m.
My heart monitor began to beep in a erratic, panicked rhythm.
BEEP... BEEP... BEEP-BEEP... BEEP...
I was going into cardiac arrest. The young boss of Chicago was going to die alone in his silk pyjamas, murdered by a woman he brought into his inner sanctum.
Suddenly, the terrace doors creaked open.
A blast of freezing July rain swept into the room, swirling the sheer curtains. Through my dimming vision, I saw a small shadow slip through the rain, followed by a larger one.
Elena. And Lily.
Elena rushed to the side of the bed, her face pale with terror. She wasn't wearing her housemaid uniform anymore; she had on a heavy dark jacket, and her eyes were filled with an fierce, desperate determination.
"Julian!" she whispered, grabbing my icy hands. "Can you hear me?"
I couldn't speak. My mouth was frozen shut.
"Mom, hurry!" Lily said, guarding the bedroom door with her small back pressed against it, listening for the guards outside. "The bad lady is downstairs talking to the security guys!"
Elena pulled a small glass vial and a syringe from her jacket pocket. "I worked at the shelter’s free clinic for three years, Julian. I’ve seen nerve agents. I’ve seen heavy metal poisoning from the street drugs."
She wiped my arm with an alcohol pad from her pocket, her hands shaking violently. "Your doctor is an idiot. He’s looking for rare blood diseases because he can't imagine someone high-class doing this to you. But I recognized the symptoms the first week I worked here. Cold agglutinin response triggered by synthetic plant alkaloids."
She plunged the syringe into the IV line connected to my vein.
"It’s Atropine and high-dose epinephrine," she whispered, her eyes shining with tears. "It’s going to jumpstart your heart and counteract the nerve blockade. It’s going to hurt like hell."
She slammed the plunger down.
For three seconds, nothing happened. The world stayed black, silent, and cold.
Then, my chest exploded.
It felt like a lightning bolt struck me directly in the sternum. My eyes flew open, my back arched off the mattress, and a raw, guttural scream tore from my throat.
AAAARRRRGGGHHH!
Blood rushed back into my capillaries with the force of a tidal wave. The icy paralysis snapped. Heat flooded my veins—not the pleasant warmth of recovery, but the burning rage of a man who had just crawled back from the edge of the grave.
I collapsed back onto the mattress, gasping for air, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped beast.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The monitor went wild.
"Julian," Elena gasped, clutching my hand. "We have to go. Now. Marco isn't loyal to you anymore. I heard him on the phone downstairs. Vanessa promised him twenty percent of the Gold Coast real estate empire."
I sat up, ripping the IV lines out of my arms. Blood trickled down my skin, but I didn't feel it. The weakness was gone, replaced by pure, unadulterated adrenaline.
I looked at Elena, then down at Lily, who was watching me with her steady, fearless eyes.
"Why are you saving me?" I asked, my voice raw and deep. "Nine years ago... I left you."
Elena looked at me, a mixture of pain and fierce pride in her eyes. "You left me a tip on the nightstand, Julian. But you also left me a daughter. And no matter what kind of monster the city thinks you are... she has your blood. I won't let them kill her father."
Footsteps echoed down the long marble hallway outside. Shouting voices.
"They're coming," Lily warned calmly.
May you like
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet hitting the cold floor. I stood up, swaying slightly before planting my weight firmly on the floorboards. The Chicago king was back on his feet.
"Elena," I said, reaching into the hidden compartment behind the carved wooden headboard and pulling out a heavy, black Sig Sauer 9mm pistol. "Get behind me."
