Chapter 3 - Shadows in the Ward
The air inside the private office on the top floor of the hospital was thick with tension. Dr. Marcus Hale stood near the window, his white coat pristine, though his forehead was slick with sweat. Two of Dominic’s heavily armed enforcers stood guard by the heavy mahogany door, their arms crossed over their chests like stone statues.
Dominic sat behind the desk, his hands folded beneath his chin. The faint light of the city skyline burned behind him, but inside the room, darkness seemed to pool around his chair.
"I... I don't understand what you're implying, Dominic," Dr. Hale stammers, wiping his brow with a silk handkerchief. "I'm a physician. I've dedicated thirty years to saving infants! The child in 4B was born severely premature following a catastrophic trauma. Complications were always expected."
"I didn't ask for a lecture on prematurity, Marcus," Dominic said coldly. He didn't raise his voice, which made it infinitely more terrifying. "I asked you who authorized the security system maintenance nineteen days ago between 2:00 AM and 2:15 AM."
Dr. Hale blinked nervously. "That... that's handled by hospital administration! I don't oversee the IT department!"
Claire stood near the corner of the room, holding the duplicate chart files. She stepped forward slightly, her voice calm and precise. "Dr. Hale, as the head of the Neonatal Department, every transfer incubator logged into the floor requires your digital signature or your head nurse’s clearance. The unregistered transport unit brought in that night had a bypass code issued from your personal credentials."
Hale’s eyes darted toward Claire, a flash of resentment hidden beneath his panic. "You're a nurse, Claire! You don't understand the complexities of emergency protocols during a major trauma event! We had multiple casualties coming in from that explosion!"
"There was only one pregnant woman in that explosion," Dominic barked, leaning forward. The motion was so swift that Hale flinched violently. "My wife. And only one infant delivered. So explain to me, doctor, why my son's blood type shifted from O-positive to A-positive over the course of a single night."
Hale swallowed hard, his throat dry. "It... it could be a rare blood chimera condition! Or a lab technician's typing error—"
"Stop lying!" Dominic roared, standing up and slamming both palms onto the mahogany desk. The sharp crack echoed through the room like a gunshot. "My cousin Anthony told me this morning that some Moretti men aren't meant to survive. He knew before the doctors even gave me the prognosis. How did he know, Marcus?"
Hale dropped his gaze to the floor, his entire body trembling. "I... I have a family, Dominic. You don't know what these people are capable of..."
"I am these people!" Dominic growled, stepping around the desk until he was inches from the doctor's pale face. He reached out and grabbed Hale by the lapels of his white coat, lifting the man slightly off his feet. "You swapped my son. Where is Gabriel?"
"I don't know where he is!" Hale cried out, tears of terror finally spilling over his cheeks. "I swear to God, I don't know where they took him! I was just paid to look the other way during the transfer! I was told the baby was being moved to a specialized private care facility for his own safety!"
"Who paid you?" Dominic demanded, tightening his grip.
"Anthony!" Hale sobbed. "It was Anthony! He said you were unraveling after Lucia died! He said the baby was weak and that the family needed strong leadership, not a broken man distracted by a sick child! He paid off the security guard to loop the footage and brought in a dying infant from a clinic in West Baltimore to take Gabriel's place!"
Claire gasped, raising a hand to her mouth. The horror of the scheme was unfathomable. It wasn't just a kidnapping; it was a systematic execution of a father's hope. Anthony had intended to let the fake baby die quietly in the incubator, cementing Dominic’s grief, breaking his spirit entirely, and leaving the leadership of the Moretti crime family wide open for Anthony to seize.
Dominic’s face transformed into a mask of terrifying stillness. The wild rage vanished, replaced by an ancient, merciless coldness. He slowly lowered Dr. Hale back to the ground and smoothed down the doctor's crumpled lapels with eerie gentleness.
"Thank you, Marcus," Dominic whispered softly. "Thank you for telling me the truth."
"Dominic, please... I have children..." Hale whimpered.
"And you helped steal mine," Dominic replied softly. He looked at his enforcers. "Take Dr. Hale to the basement holding room at the docks. Keep him comfortable. He isn't to be touched until I have my son back in my arms."
"Dominic, wait!" Claire stepped forward as the guards grabbed Hale by the arms and dragged the weeping doctor toward the door. "If Anthony realizes Hale is missing, he’ll know we know!"
"Anthony already knows," Dominic said, turning to look at her. "He gave himself away the moment he spoke my wife's name this morning. But he thinks he's played a master stroke. He thinks I'm sitting in this room weeping over a dying child."
Dominic walked over to the window, looking out over the glittering lights of Baltimore. "He expects me to break. But he forgot who built this empire."
"What are you going to do?" Claire asked, her heart pounding.
May you like
Dominic turned back to her. The dark, terrifying mob boss was gone, replaced by a father driven by a singular, desperate purpose. He looked at Claire, his eyes softening just a fraction.
"I'm going to tear this city apart brick by brick," Dominic said quietly. "And you, Claire, are going to help me find out where he hid my boy."
