Chapter 4 - The Hunt in the Dark
The next three days were a quiet, luxurious torture.
Ava was moved to a private suite on the top floor of the Cicero facility. It was beautiful—hardwood floors, a plush velvet sofa, a refrigerator stocked with fresh fruit and artisan water, and a desk covered in the latest edition of her nursing textbooks.
Sophie spent most of her time in Ava's room. The little girl had become Ava's shadow, holding her hand while she read, sitting quietly beside her while she studied the complex mechanisms of drug interactions. To Sophie, Ava was not the waitress from the diner; she was the magic lady who had kept her father from going to heaven.
But Ava could not sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard the wail of the sirens, saw the red pool spreading across the cream rug, and felt the heavy, terrifying weight of Roman's hand on her wrist.
On the fourth night, she couldn't take it anymore.
She slipped out of her room, her bare feet silent on the cold marble of the hallway. She wanted to see him. She wanted to look the monster in the eye and demand her freedom back.
She found Roman in his study.
The room was dark, lit only by the green glow of a desk lamp and the soft, orange embers of a cigar resting in a crystal ashtray. He was sitting in a high-backed leather chair, his shirt open to expose the fresh, clean bandages across his ribs. He was looking at a series of security feeds on his laptop.
"You're awake," Roman said, without looking up.
"How did you know it was me?" Ava asked, standing in the doorway.
"You walk like a nurse," he said, his voice low and rich. "Quiet. Efficient. You don't drag your feet like my men do."
He turned his head, his amber eyes locking onto hers in the darkness. "Why aren't you sleeping, Ava?"
"Because I'm a hostage," she said, taking a step into the room. "You bought my debts, Mr. Black. You bought my tuition. But you also bought my silence. I want to know who stabbed you. I want to know why my life had to be ruined because I answered a phone call at two in the morning."
Roman was silent for a long moment. He reached down, picking up the cigar and taking a slow, meditative drag, the smoke curling around his sharp features.
"It was my brother," he said.
Ava stopped, the air leaving her lungs. "Your brother?"
"Julian," Roman said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "He wanted the docks. The Petrovs offered him three million dollars and a seat at the high table if he cleared me out of the way. He was the only one who had the security bypass codes for the Hawthorne Ridge house. He was the one who drugged the housekeeper."
He leaned forward, the green light of the monitor accentuating the hard, cruel lines of his face.
"He didn't realize Sophie was home," Roman whispered. "He thought she was with her grandmother in Naples. He would have killed her too, Ava. To cover his tracks."
Ava felt a cold wave of sickness wash over her. "And where is Julian now?"
"He's running," Roman said. "But my men are patient. We have the ports blocked. We have the highways monitored. He won't make it to the border."
He stood up, slowly, his muscles groaning under the strain of his recovery. He walked over to her, his massive frame towering over her in the small study. He smelled of tobacco, expensive cologne, and the faint, sweet scent of antiseptic.
"You think I am a monster, Ava," Roman said, reaching out to touch a strand of her dark hair, his fingers surprisingly gentle. "And you are right. I have done things that would make your blood run cold. But I have one rule. One boundary that cannot be crossed."
He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear.
"I protect my own," he whispered. "And the moment you saved my daughter... you became mine."
May you like
Before Ava could answer, the red light on the desk began to flash.
Silas’s voice crackled through the intercom, sharp and urgent. "Boss. We have a breach at the eastern gate. It’s the Petrovs. They’re not waiting for Julian. They’ve found the clinic."
