Chapter 5 - What Teresa Left Behind
For one terrifying second Elena believed the blood was hers.
Then Marcus collapsed.
Anthony had fired before falling.
The bullet had struck Marcus beneath the shoulder.
His gun dropped.
Vincent reached Elena first.
"Where are you hit?"
"I'm not."
He grabbed her shoulders.
She didn't pull away.
"Elena."
"It's his blood."
Vincent stared at her uniform.
Then he looked at Marcus.
Luca kicked the gun away.
Anthony lay against a concrete pillar, holding his side.
Miriam rushed toward him.
"Through-and-through," she said. "I think."
Anthony grimaced.
"Comforting."
Luca's men finally stormed the garage from the eastern entrance.
The attackers surrendered quickly once Marcus was down.
Within minutes, the garage transformed into a secured medical zone.
Elena should have been treating Anthony.
Instead, Vincent nearly collapsed in front of her.
"Sit."
"I'm fine."
She stared at him.
He sat.
"Good choice."
Despite the chaos, Luca laughed.
Vincent looked at him.
"Careful."
Elena opened Vincent's shirt further.
The wound had reopened badly.
"We need blood now."
Luca nodded.
"Delivery team is coming."
"How long?"
"Eight minutes."
"We don't have eight."
A voice came from behind Elena.
"I can donate."
Anthony.
Miriam tried to stop him.
"You've been shot."
"I'm stable."
Elena looked between the brothers.
"Same blood type?"
"O-negative," Vincent said.
Anthony nodded.
Elena almost laughed at the absurdity.
Two wounded mafia brothers trying to donate blood to each other in an underground garage after discovering one had been secretly alive for eleven years.
Her nursing instructors had not covered this.
"Fine," she said. "But small volume until the unit arrives."
Anthony looked at Vincent.
"You always hated needles."
Vincent looked back.
"You always talked too much."
Anthony smiled.
There it was.
Brotherhood.
Buried but alive.
Elena prepared the equipment.
Vincent watched her hands.
"You okay?"
She knew he wasn't asking medically.
Her mother's necklace lay on a table nearby.
Broken.
The capsule removed.
Luca had recovered it from Marcus.
"I'm angry."
"At me?"
"At everyone."
"Fair."
"My mother knew your family."
"Yes."
"She hid evidence."
"Apparently."
"Someone may have killed her for it."
Vincent looked down.
"I'll find out."
Elena stopped.
"No."
He looked at her.
"You won't find out."
"What?"
"We will."
Something changed in his expression.
Elena continued.
"I'm not another person you put somewhere safe while you handle everything."
Vincent's gaze softened.
"You're right."
She hadn't expected agreement.
He looked at the IV line.
"I'm learning."
"So am I."
Their eyes met.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Anthony cleared his throat.
"I'm literally bleeding beside you."
Elena turned.
"Thank you for the reminder."
Vincent almost smiled.
The blood unit arrived.
Elena stabilized both brothers while Luca secured the penthouse.
Marcus remained under armed guard in a private room.
By sunrise, Dr. Klein finally performed surgery on Vincent with Elena assisting.
This time Vincent allowed the medical team near him.
Not comfortably.
But he allowed it.
Before anesthesia, he looked at Elena.
"Stay."
"I'm assisting."
"No."
His eyes held hers.
"Stay."
Elena understood.
She placed her hand over his.
"I'll be here when you wake up."
His fingers closed around hers.
Then the medication took him.
Four hours later, Vincent opened his eyes.
Elena sat in a chair beside the bed.
"You lied," he whispered.
She looked up.
"About what?"
"You said you'd be here when I woke."
"I am."
"You weren't holding my hand."
She stared at him.
Then realized he was joking.
"You're impossible."
"So I've been told."
She checked his monitor.
Stable.
Anthony was recovering in the room next door.
Marcus was conscious.
And the capsule Teresa Rossi had hidden for seven years was being examined.
Luca entered.
"We got something."
Vincent's humor disappeared.
"The capsule?"
"Microfilm. Old-fashioned because digital records could be traced."
Elena stood.
"What's on it?"
"Account numbers. Names. Dates."
"Marcus?"
"Everywhere."
Vincent's face hardened.
"Police?"
"Several."
"Judges?"
"Five."
"Politicians?"
Luca hesitated.
"Yes."
Elena looked at him.
"What else?"
Luca seemed reluctant.
Vincent noticed.
"Say it."
"Teresa's name."
Elena's breath caught.
"Why?"
"There's a payment beside it."
She went cold.
"You think my mother took money?"
"No."
Luca turned the tablet.
The record showed:
TERESA ROSSI — $250,000 — AUTHORIZED BY V. CASSANO.
Elena stared.
"She refused his money."
Anthony appeared in the doorway, supported by Miriam.
"She did."
Elena looked at him.
"Then what is this?"
Anthony's face tightened.
"It wasn't paid to her."
"Then why her name?"
"It was paid for her."
Elena felt sick.
"What does that mean?"
Anthony looked at Vincent.
Vincent shook his head.
"I don't know."
Anthony stepped inside.
"Victor offered two hundred fifty thousand dollars to anyone who could recover Teresa's documents."
Elena's knees felt weak.
"A bounty."
"Yes."
"After she died?"
"Before."
The room went silent.
Her mother's stroke suddenly looked very different.
"Who collected it?"
Luca scrolled.
"Initials only."
E.P.
Elena stared at the screen.
Those initials meant nothing to her.
Then Miriam whispered.
"Oh, no."
Everyone turned.
"You know who it is?" Elena asked.
Miriam looked frightened.
"Maybe."
"Who?"
Before Miriam could answer, Elena's phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice spoke.
"Ms. Rossi."
She froze.
"Who is this?"
"You don't know me."
Vincent sat up despite Elena's warning.
The man continued.
"But I knew your mother."
Elena looked at Luca.
He activated recording.
"What do you want?"
The caller laughed softly.
"Teresa left one final mistake."
"What mistake?"
"You."
Vincent's expression changed.
"Trace it," he told Luca.
The caller heard.
"Vincent Mercer is listening, isn't he?"
Elena said nothing.
"Good."
The voice became colder.
"Tell him Marcus Vale was never in charge."
Vincent looked at Anthony.
Anthony went pale.
Elena tightened her grip on the phone.
"Who are you?"
The man ignored her.
"Your mother died because she opened the wrong door. If you want to know who closed it, come to Rosemont."
The line clicked.
Elena stared at the phone.
Then a text arrived.
A photograph.
Her mother.
Alive.
Taken inside the old Rosemont facility seven years earlier.
Beside her stood a man Elena recognized instantly.
Her hospital chief.
May you like
Dr. Edward Pike.
And in his hand was the syringe that had been used the night Teresa Rossi died.
