Chapter 4 - The Incubator|
The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit was quiet, filled only with the rhythmic hum of oxygen pumps and monitoring chimes.
Dominic stood before a clear acrylic incubator on the third floor.
Inside lay a tiny, fragile human being. Her skin was translucent, her chest rising and falling rapidly under a tiny respirator mask. Wires glued to her chest monitored a heart that beat at one hundred and forty beats per minute.
A pink plastic band wrapped around her ankle read: BABY GIRL VESCARI.
Dominic pressed his large, calloused palm against the cold glass of the incubator. His fingers shook—the same hands that had signed land deals worth tens of millions and commanded two hundred armed men across the waterfront.
"She’s fighting, Mr. Vescari," the NICU nurse murmured, adjusting an IV line. "She has her mother's strength."
"Will she make it?" Dominic asked, his voice cracking for the first time in ten years.
"The next forty-eight hours are critical," the nurse answered gently. "She needs stability. And she needs her mother."
The heavy double doors of the NICU swung open. Rocco stepped inside, his dark suit damp from the rain outside, holding a leather file folder.
"Boss," Rocco whispered, stepping beside Dominic. "We found the mechanic in Halston."
Dominic didn't take his eyes off his daughter. "Talk."
"He was paid twenty thousand dollars in cash three hours ago to slice the brake fluid lines while Mara was in the grocery store," Rocco revealed grimly. "We tracked the wire transfer source."
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Dominic turned his head slowly. "Who?"
Rocco opened the folder, revealing a bank printout. "It didn't come from Celeste, Boss. It came from your cousin, Julian."
