Chapter 4 - THE CITY WATCHES
Victor moved before Sadi had finished reading the message. The ballroom transformed in
seconds. One moment, donors were lifting champagne beneath chandeliers; the next, Victor’s
security team had closed around them with practiced precision. He took Sadi by the elbow—not
dragging, not commanding, simply making sure she moved with him—and guided her toward a
service corridor while cameras followed.
“Why would Declan go back?” Sadi demanded. “To force me to choose between you and the
evidence.” “What evidence?” “The files I showed Mick.” “You have them?” “Copies.” The
elevator doors opened. Nico stood inside, already on the phone.
“Hospital security locked the oncology floor,” he reported. “Declan’s car is moving east on
Mercer. If he continues, he reaches St. Jude’s in seven minutes.” “Police?” “Alerted
anonymously.”
Sadi looked at Victor. “Anonymously?” “I prefer not to explain why my people are tracking
cars in real time.” “Good point.” The elevator dropped forty floors. Sadi’s ears popped. Her
hands felt numb inside the gloves.
Victor watched her. “Sam is guarded.” “So was he last night.” “Tonight we know they’re
coming.” “What if there are more?” “There are always more.” The doors opened into the
underground garage. A vehicle was waiting with the engine running.
As they drove, Sadi’s phone rang. Not the burner. Her regular phone. The screen showed St.
Jude’s. She answered with shaking fingers. “Hello?” A nurse spoke quickly. “Ms. Hayes? Your
brother is stable, but he’s extremely anxious. There was a security alert, and we need—”
A sound cracked through the background. Not a gunshot. A metal door slamming. Then voices.
The call cut out. Sadi made a sound that was barely human. Victor took out his phone.
“Nico.” “I’m still on the line with our men,” Nico answered. “Someone triggered the fire
alarm on the east wing. Hospital protocol is unlocking certain service doors.”
Victor swore softly. Traffic jammed two blocks ahead. “Take the tunnel,” he told the driver.
“There’s construction.” “Take it.” The sedan turned sharply down a service ramp and entered
a half-finished transit corridor beneath the hospital district. Bare concrete walls flashed
past. Water sprayed from tires. Sadi gripped the seat while Victor made three calls in less
than a minute, moving personnel with frightening efficiency.
When they emerged, police vehicles were already converging on the hospital. Victor did not
wait for the car to stop completely. They entered through the ambulance bay. The fire alarm
screamed through the building. Nurses moved patients away from smoke doors that had never
seen smoke. Security guards shouted into radios. In the confusion, Sadi spotted one of
Victor’s men near the stairwell with blood on his forehead.
“Where’s Sam?” “Room secure,” he said. “Declan never reached him. But we lost sight of him
on level four.” Victor’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not after Sam anymore.” Sadi looked at him.
“Then what?”
A voice behind them answered. “You.” Declan O’Shea stood at the far end of the corridor in
blue hospital scrubs stolen from someone’s locker. He held no gun. He did not need one. In
his left hand was a small remote.
In his right, Sadi’s burner phone. He smiled. “Fire doors are useful,” he said. “So are
oxygen systems.” Victor stepped in front of Sadi. Declan lifted the remote. “Don’t.”
Everyone froze. Sadi could hear the alarm, the rush of nurses, the distant crying of a
child. Her mind tried to understand what the remote controlled.
Declan saw the question on her face. “Nothing dramatic. I’m not a monster.” Victor’s
expression said he disagreed. “I wired a little surprise to the generator switchboard,”
Declan continued. “Enough to kill backup power to this wing for maybe four minutes. Long
time if you’re depending on machines.”
Sadi’s stomach turned. “Give me the files,” Declan said. “All of them.” Victor did not move.
“Now.” Sadi stepped around him. Victor’s hand closed around her wrist. “No.” She looked at
him. Declan’s thumb hovered over the button.
Sadi whispered, “There are children on this floor.” “I know.” “Then give him what he wants.”
Victor’s eyes held hers. Something passed through them—calculation, anger, fear, and another
emotion she did not have time to name.
He released her wrist. “Nico,” Victor said. Nico took a flash drive from his pocket. Declan
laughed. “Toss it.” Nico did. The drive skittered across the polished floor and stopped
several feet from Declan.
He bent to pick it up. Victor moved. Not toward Declan. Toward the wall. He slammed his palm
against a red emergency switch. Metal fire shutters crashed down between corridor sections.
Declan jumped backward as one descended, separating him from Sadi—but also cutting his line
of sight to the electrical room.
Nico lunged through the narrowing gap. The shutter slammed shut. For three seconds, the
hallway became nothing but alarms and uncertainty. Then Sadi heard a struggle on the other
side. A body hit the floor.
Someone shouted. The fire alarm stopped. Silence fell so suddenly her ears rang. Victor
pressed his hand against the shutter. “Nico?” A moment later, Nico’s voice came through the
metal. “Got him.”
Sadi almost collapsed. Victor caught her. This time she did not pull away. Police arrested
Declan ten minutes later. The remote had been real, but the device attached to the generator
had been crude and incomplete. It might not have worked. That fact did not make Sadi feel
better.
At Sam’s bedside, she discovered him furious. “You left me out of the exciting part.” She
hugged him hard enough that he complained about his IV. Victor stayed near the window while
detectives took statements. He should have looked victorious.
He did not. Sadi noticed a dark stain spreading beneath the cuff of his white shirt.
“Victor.” He glanced down. There was blood on his side. “You’re hurt.” “Not seriously.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“So are you.” Her gloves had split at two fingers. For one absurd second, they stared at
each other as though comparing wounds. Then Victor swayed. Sadi caught his arm. A nurse
rushed forward.
He had been cut by a piece of metal when the emergency shutter mechanism broke loose. The
wound needed stitches but had missed anything vital. While the nurse treated him in an empty
examination room, Sadi stood at the doorway.
“You risked everyone,” she said. “I calculated.” “You could have died.” “So could your
brother.” “That doesn’t answer me.” Victor looked up. Under the harsh hospital lights,
without the tuxedo jacket, without the city watching, he seemed suddenly less like a legend
and more like a tired man carrying too many decisions.
“I made a promise,” he said. “To who?” He looked toward Sam’s room. Then at her. “To myself.
A long time ago.” Sadi waited. Victor’s jaw tightened. “My younger sister died because
someone used her to reach me.”
The words landed with quiet force. “I thought keeping distance would keep people safe. It
didn’t. It only made sure she faced danger without understanding why.” Sadi’s anger faded.
Victor continued. “I will not repeat that mistake.”
She stepped into the room. Outside, reporters had already gathered beneath the hospital
awning. The city had watched Victor Costello publicly protect a maid, then race from a gala
to a locked-down cancer ward.
By sunrise, everyone would have a theory. Only Sadi knew the truth was more complicated.
Victor had not protected her because she belonged to him. He had protected her because
someone had once belonged to his heart, and he had failed to save her.
Sadi reached for his hand. For the first time, Victor looked surprised. Then his phone rang.
He ignored it. It rang again. Nico appeared at the door, grim. “You need to take this.”
Victor answered.
He listened. His expression hardened. “What happened?” Sadi asked. Victor ended the call.
“Mick disappeared.” “Where?” “No one knows.” Then Nico added the part that changed
May you like
everything. “And someone emptied his accounts two hours before the gala.”
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