Chapter 11 - The Hospital Trap
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Julian tore his mouth from hers by an inch, his chest heaving against her palms, a dark curse rumbling in his throat before he pressed a fierce, lingering kiss to her forehead and stood up, reaching for a fresh black button-down shirt.
When Julian opened the outer door of the master suite, Dario was standing in the hallway holding an iPad and a small plastic evidence bag containing a charred burner phone.
"We caught Marcus trying to board a private charter at Midway twenty minutes ago," Dario reported grimly, keeping his eyes respectfully off Nora as she stepped out of the bathroom behind Julian, smoothing her hair. "He didn't take much convincing to talk."
"And?" Julian asked, buttoning his cuffs with his right hand.
"Morelli and Camila aren't in New York," Dario said. "They landed in Chicago yesterday afternoon. They’re here in the city right now—staying at the Waldorf under diplomatic passports provided by one of the corrupt aldermen on the Port Commission."
Nora felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach. "She came back to Chicago in person?"
"Because Monday morning is the final vote for the thirty-year shipping monopoly at the Calumet Harbor terminals," Julian said coldly. "If I’m dead—or disgraced before the Commission elders—Morelli absorbs our family’s port contracts by default."
"There’s more, Boss," Dario hesitated, glancing straight at Nora. "Before we grabbed Marcus at Midway, he had already sent Camila the itinerary he pulled from the house server before he bolted."
Nora’s heart stopped. "What itinerary?"
"The hospital admission schedule for Northwestern Memorial tomorrow morning at eight," Dario said quietly.
The room spun around Nora. She grabbed the back of a leather armchair to keep her knees from buckling. "Leo... they know Leo is supposed to check into the sixth floor tomorrow!"
"We cancel it," Nora said instantly, her voice rising in panic. "We keep him right here in the penthouse! He can miss a day—"
"No, he can't," Julian interrupted calmly, stepping beside her and placing a steady hand on her shoulder. "When we came through that fire escape window in Uptown tonight, his home dialysis cycler took three rounds through the casing. And according to the chart Dr. Shaw sent me, if Leo doesn't get filtered by noon tomorrow, his potassium levels spike into cardiac arrest territory."
Nora pressed both hands to her face. It was a checkmate. Her brother needed a clinical dialysis machine within fourteen hours, and every major hospital nephrology unit in downtown Chicago would have Camila Morelli’s hitmen watching the ambulance bays.
"We don't use the ambulance bay," Julian said, his storm-gray eyes narrowing into the cold, ruthless strategist who ruled half the Midwest. "And we don't cancel the eight o’clock admission on the sixth floor."
Dario frowned. "Boss, if Camila has eyes on the sixth-floor pediatric wing—"
"Then we give her exactly what she’s looking for on the sixth floor," Julian said silkily. "While Dr. Shaw brings a portable continuous renal replacement unit up to the private executive surgical floor on the twelfth story via the morgue service elevator at 6:00 AM."
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Nora lowered her hands, staring at Julian. "You’re going to use the sixth-floor room as bait?"
"I’ve spent three months playing defense against a ghost because I was too hollowed out by Matteo’s death to hunt her properly," Julian said, his voice dropping to a lethal purr. "Tomorrow morning, Camila thinks she’s walking in to grab the only leverage that can make me kneel. Instead, she walks into a box with no doors."
