Chapter 8 - THE SCAR BENEATH NICO’S RIBS
Dr. Patel examined Nico at the Lake Forest house.
A pale scar rested beneath his left rib cage. Lorenzo had been told it came from an emergency line placed when Nico struggled to breathe after delivery.
Ultrasound revealed a small foreign object beneath the skin.
It had no legitimate medical purpose.
Crane had implanted a slow-release reservoir inside Nico’s body shortly after birth.
The bottle poison created the violent midnight spikes, but the implant maintained lower exposure throughout the day, ensuring the baby never fully recovered.
Dr. Patel arranged emergency surgery at a secured children’s hospital.
Lorenzo carried Nico into the operating suite himself.
When a nurse asked him to surrender the baby at the sterile doors, he froze.
I stood beside him.
“They know what to do.”
“I trusted Crane because he knew what to do.”
“You are not trusting a name this time. You reviewed the team, evidence, and plan.”
Nico reached for Lorenzo’s collar.
His father kissed his forehead.
Then he placed him in the nurse’s arms.
The procedure lasted seventy-three minutes.
Surgeons removed a polymer reservoir containing the same synthetic compound found inside the bottle.
It was almost empty.
If I had not discovered the collar, the conspirators might have administered one final concentrated feed, causing a fatal event investigators would blame on Nico’s supposed disorder.
Dr. Patel emerged from surgery.
“He tolerated the procedure well.”
Lorenzo sat down in the hallway.
For several seconds, he could not speak.
Then he looked at me.
“You saved him twice.”
“The team saved him.”
“You noticed.”
“Yes.”
“No one else did.”
I understood what he was trying to say.
Gratitude frightened him because it created a debt he could not repay with money or force.
“You don’t owe me your empire,” I said.
“I was considering a hospital wing.”
“That would be excessive.”
“A floor?”
“Still excessive.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“What do you want?”
“Nico healthy.”
“That cannot be all.”
“It can.”
Lorenzo looked toward the operating doors.
“Teresa used to say that. I thought it meant she wanted something she was afraid to ask for.”
“Sometimes people tell the truth.”
He turned toward me.
The distance between us felt suddenly smaller.
Then Luca entered carrying evidence from the Mercer clinic.
Crane had left behind research files describing Teresa and Nico as Phase One and Phase Two.
The project’s financial sponsor was not Salvatore.
It was a shell company controlled by Aldo Ricci, the leader of a rival Chicago organization.
Salvatore wanted Bolaro Meridian.
Ricci wanted Lorenzo’s entire underworld network.
If Nico died and Lorenzo appeared emotionally unstable, Salvatore would weaken the legitimate holdings while Ricci attacked the criminal side.
Crane intended to profit from both.
“He isn’t running,” Luca said. “He’s finishing the plan.”
Security intercepted a communication between Crane and Ricci.
They had scheduled a meeting at a decommissioned clinic near the Indiana state line.
Crane would exchange Nico’s medical records and Teresa’s remaining blood samples for safe passage.
Lorenzo wanted to raid it.
Cho insisted federal agents lead.
“You are still under investigation for the operations in Teresa’s ledgers,” she reminded him.
“I gave you Salvatore.”
“And now you need to give us Ricci.”
Lorenzo’s position had changed.
Before Nico’s poisoning, he would have handled Ricci privately and left bodies where warnings could be understood.
Now every act of revenge threatened the future Teresa asked him to build.
He signed a cooperation agreement.
In exchange for disclosing Bolaro’s remaining illegal operations, prosecutors agreed to consider reduced charges for past financial conduct and protect employees who had not committed violent crimes.
Luca looked shaken.
“Your father spent his life building this.”
“My father built something men used to reach my son’s crib.”
“What happens to us?”
“We make the legitimate companies legitimate.”
“And the rest?”
“Ends.”
The decision would create enemies.
It would also remove the secret routes, corrupt officials, and inherited loyalties Crane had exploited.
That night, Nico woke after surgery.
His eyes focused on Lorenzo.
Then he smiled.
It was the first time I had seen him smile without exhaustion behind it.
Lorenzo covered his mouth.
I placed Nico in his arms.
“He knows you.”
“I was gone during his first hours.”
“You were arranging Teresa’s funeral.”
“I let Evelyn hold him because I could not.”
“You came back.”
“After eight months.”
“He is eight months old.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
“You make forgiveness sound easy.”
“I didn’t mention forgiveness. I said you came back.”
Nico rested against his chest.
The baby’s breathing was steady.
Lorenzo reached for my hand.
He stopped before touching it.
“May I?”
The question surprised me.
“Yes.”
His fingers closed gently around mine.
For one quiet minute, the three of us remained beside the hospital window while snow moved across Chicago.
Then every alarm on the ward activated.
The lights failed.
A nurse shouted from the corridor.
A man wearing an orderly’s uniform entered Nico’s room and locked the door.
Dr. Crane removed his mask.
May you like
In his hand was a syringe.
“You should have let the clock finish its work,” he said.
