At 11:42 p.m., Nora Sullivan walked barefoot into St. Jude’s Medical Center with one hand over her pregnant belly and blood staining the front of her white coat.
“Help,” she whispered.
Nurse Sarah Jenkins barely caught her before she collapsed.
“Trauma One! Now!”
The emergency room exploded into motion.
Dr. Harrison Boyd leaned over Nora as nurses connected monitors and started IVs.
“Name?”
“Nora,” Sarah answered. “Nora Sullivan.”
Boyd looked up.
“The district attorney’s wife?”
“Apparently.”
A fetal heartbeat raced through the monitor.
Nora opened her eyes.
“My baby?”
“Still with us,” Sarah said. “Stay with me.”
Nora grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t call Arthur.”
Sarah froze.
“What?”
“My husband.” Nora struggled for air. “Don’t let him know I’m here.”
Then she lost consciousness.
Across the hall, Brenda Miles searched Nora’s ruined handbag for identification.
She found Nora’s license.
Then, inside a hidden pocket, she found a matte-black card.
One word was embossed across the front.
Dante.
On the back:
If you ever need me, no matter what.
Brenda dialed.
A man answered immediately.
“Speak.”
“This is St. Jude’s Medical Center. We have Nora Sullivan in trauma. Your card was in her purse.”
Silence.
Then:
“I’ll be there in eight minutes.”
Nine minutes later, Dante Corvino entered the hospital.
Three black SUVs waited outside. Several men followed him through the lobby.
Hospital administrator Richard Blaine intercepted him.
“Mr. Corvino, you’re not listed as family.”
Dante stopped.
“Where is she?”
“I can’t allow—”
“I asked where she is.”
Richard swallowed.
“Trauma One.”
Dante headed down the corridor.
Dr. Boyd emerged before he reached the doors.
“You’re Corvino?”
“Yes.”
“She’s alive. So is the baby. But she’s unstable.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“Can I see her?”
“Briefly.”
Dante entered alone.
For the first time that night, the feared man everyone in Chicago whispered about looked uncertain.
Nora lay beneath white blankets, bruised and exhausted, surrounded by machines.
Her eyes slowly opened.
She stared at him.
“Dante?”
“I’m here.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“You kept the card.”
“You kept your promise.”
He moved closer.
“Who did this?”
Nora looked toward the door.
“My husband.”
Dante became completely still.
“Arthur?”
She nodded.
“He knows.”
“Knows what?”
Nora’s hand moved protectively across her stomach.
“That the baby isn’t his.”
Dante stared at her.
Then at her belly.
Nora whispered the words that changed everything.
“He’s yours.”
For several seconds, even the machines seemed too loud.
Dante pulled a chair beside her bed.
“How long have you known?”
“Since the beginning.”
“And you never told me?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
His eyes flashed.
“From Arthur Sullivan?”
“From a war.”
Dante leaned closer.
“Nora, you disappeared eleven months ago. You married the man who has spent five years trying to put me in prison.”
“I didn’t marry him because I loved him.”
“Then why?”
Her eyes filled again.
“Because Arthur had evidence against my father. Tax records. Offshore accounts. Enough to destroy my family.”
“Your father died eight months ago.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you leave?”
Nora looked terrified.
“Because by then I’d found something worse.”
“What?”
Before she could answer, voices erupted outside.
Richard Blaine appeared at the door.
“Mr. Corvino?”
“What?”
“The district attorney is downstairs.”
Nora’s monitor began racing.
“No.”
Dante looked at her.
“Nora?”
She gripped his hand.
“Do not let Arthur into this room.”
Dante stood.
The fear disappeared from his face.
Something colder replaced it.
“He won’t get within fifty feet of you.”
Nora caught his sleeve.
“Dante.”
He turned.
“Arthur didn’t hurt me because he discovered the baby.”
“Then why?”
“Because I stole his ledger.”
Dante stared at her.
“What ledger?”
“The one that proves Arthur Sullivan has been working with the people trying to destroy you.”
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