She Was Humiliated and Fired While Pregnant — Then the Most Feared Man in Chicago Arrived and Revealed She Was Carrying His Heir.

PART 8

Rain hammered the metal roof above rows of rusted shipping containers. A single work light illuminated Salvatore Cross, Adrian Voss, and four armed men. Dr. Reyes and her husband sat bound to chairs a few yards away.

Salvatore, silver-haired and composed, kissed Elena’s hand the way he had the two times they’d met before. “The lost bride returns.”

“I was never a bride.”

“My nephew would have made you one.”

Adrian Voss stood beside him, a scar tracing his left cheek — a souvenir of the war that followed the bombing. “Give us the ledger.”

“Release the doctor and her husband first.”

Salvatore laughed. “You’re in no position to negotiate.”

“I’m the only one who can open the files.” Elena set the laptop on a crate. “The account needs my face, my voice, and a rotating password. Kill me and everything releases automatically.”

Adrian glanced at Salvatore. “You said she had a memory card.”

“She did.”

“I still do,” Elena said. “But the information exists in more than one place now.”

Salvatore’s smile thinned. “Your little discovery caused a great deal of trouble.”

“You caused the trouble.”

“I built the empire Damian inherited. His father was weak. Damian is sentimental. I made the decisions that kept our family alive.”

“You ordered the bombing?”

Adrian’s head snapped toward him.

Salvatore’s expression didn’t change. “Adrian arranged the explosion.”

“You gave him our reservation.”

Silence swallowed the terminal. Elena looked at Adrian. “He was willing to let your men die too, that night.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed.

“I read the ledger,” Elena went on. “Three million dollars moved to the Cayman Islands two days after the bombing. You were going to let him carry the blame alone.”

Adrian reached for the laptop. Salvatore stopped him. “Is that true?”

“Of course not.”

“The transaction number starts with seven-nine-four,” Elena said. “The receiving company is Marlow Development.”

Salvatore turned to Adrian, and for one instant, doubt cracked his composure.

It was enough.

Dr. Reyes kicked over the work light.

Darkness swallowed the terminal. Federal agents surged in from two sides. “Drop your weapons!”

Gunfire ripped through the dark. Elena dropped behind the crate as a stray round shattered the laptop screen. Someone seized her hair and hauled her upright — Adrian, gun pressed beneath her jaw.

“Tell them to back away!”

Agents surrounded the light’s edge, none with a clear shot. Salvatore tried to slip between two containers; Silas tackled him before he reached the door.

Adrian dragged Elena backward. “Where’s the original card?”

“Somewhere you’ll never find.”

“I’ll cut your child out of you before I leave this building.”

A cold voice answered from the dark. “You will not touch either of them.”

Damian stepped into the light, hands visible, unarmed.

Adrian’s gun swung toward him. “You came without a weapon?”

“I came to trade.”

“Damian, no,” Elena said.

“You always did have one weakness,” Adrian said, smiling.

Damian kept walking. “Let her go. Take me instead.”

“You destroyed everything I built.”

“You destroyed it the moment you attacked innocent people.”

“I attacked what mattered to you.”

Damian stopped six feet away. “You were right about one thing. She is what matters to me.”

Adrian raised the gun toward Damian. Elena felt his grip loosen for half a second — long enough to drive her heel into his foot and drop.

He fired.

Damian threw himself in front of her. The bullet caught his side.

Federal agents fired almost in the same instant. Adrian collapsed, wounded in the shoulder and leg.

Elena crawled to Damian, blood already spreading across his shirt. “No. No, no, no.”

“You were supposed to stay behind the crate,” he managed.

“You were supposed to wait for the agents.”

“Never been good at waiting.”

His face went gray. Elena screamed for a medic. Dr. Reyes, freed and running, pressed both hands to the wound.

“It might have missed the artery. Keep him talking.”

Elena held his face in both hands. “Look at me.”

His eyes struggled to focus. “Is the baby safe?”

“She’s safe.”

“Good.” A faint, terrible smile. “I had a much more romantic proposal planned.”

“This is not funny.”

“There was a museum involved. A dinner. No armed criminals.”

“Stay awake and you can try again.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a command.”

Sirens flooded the terminal. Damian smiled once more before he lost consciousness.