The cathedral doors slammed open three seconds before Arthur Romano was supposed to say, “I do.” Every head turned

The doors of Mercy Hospital’s emergency wing burst open as Arthur Romano carried Chloe through the lobby.

"I need a doctor!" Arthur bellowed, his voice echoing off the sterile white walls. "NOW!"

Two nurses and an emergency room physician rushed forward with a gurney. Arthur gently laid Chloe onto the narrow bed, refusing to let go of her hand as they began pushing her down the long corridor toward the trauma bay.

"Sir, you need to step back!" the doctor shouted, cutting open the bottom of Chloe’s dress to assess the bleeding.

"I am not leaving her!" Arthur snarled, his hand gripping Chloe’s tightly.

"She’s in premature labor! Six and a half months!" the doctor yelled back, checking her vital signs. "Her blood pressure is dangerously high, she’s severely dehydrated, and there’s signs of placental distress! We need to perform an emergency C-section right now or we will lose both her and the baby!"

The words hit Arthur like a physical blow. Lose both her and the baby.

Chloe looked up at Arthur through tear-filled eyes, her face terrified. "Arthur... save the baby... please... don't let anything happen to our baby..."

"No!" Arthur cried out, bending over her, kissing her lips wildly. "You listen to me, Chloe Henderson! You fight! You fight to stay with me! Do you hear me? I am not living in a world without you! You stay!"

"Sir! You have to let us work!" The nurses forcefully pushed Arthur back as they wheeled Chloe through the double doors of the operating room.

The heavy steel doors slammed shut in his face.

Arthur stood in the quiet, sterile hallway, covered in rain, grease, and the blood of the woman he loved. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. He fell back against the wall, sliding down until his knees hit the cold linoleum floor.

The powerful boss of the Chicago Romano family sat on the floor of a hospital hallway, burying his face in his blood-stained hands, praying to a God he hadn't spoken to in fifteen years.

Ten minutes later, the elevator doors at the end of the hall chimed.

Leo walked out, flanked by six armed Romano soldiers. His face was hard, covered in rain and soot.

He walked up to Arthur, standing over his boss.

"How is she?" Leo asked quietly.

"They're taking the baby out," Arthur whispered, not lifting his head. "She's bleeding, Leo. She might die."

Leo took a heavy breath, placing a firm, supportive hand on Arthur’s shoulder. "She's tough, Arthur. I watched her run through three miles of storm. She's stronger than any of us."

Arthur slowly raised his head. The sorrow in his eyes had hardened into something cold, dark, and utterly ruthless. "What happened at the cathedral?"

Leo pulled a small glass vial from his pocket, sealed in a plastic evidence bag. "Our lab guy ran a quick test on the ceremonial wine. Strychnine and digitalis mixture. Enough to stop a horse's heart in thirty seconds. Malcolm and Vivien tried to clear out during the panic, but my guys blocked the parking lot."

Arthur stood up slowly. His height, his broad shoulders, his lethal aura returning tenfold. "Where are they?"

"We locked Malcolm, Vivien, and their top four lieutenants in the cathedral basement," Leo replied, a dark smile touching his lips. "The cathedral Father was more than happy to lend us the keys once he saw the poison results. What do you want to do with them?"

Arthur looked at his watch. Then he looked at the steel doors of the operating room.

"Keep them locked in the dark," Arthur said, his voice flat and terrifying. "Don't feed them. Don't give them water. I will deal with the Crofts personally the moment I know my family is safe."

"Understood," Leo nodded.

Suddenly, the doors to the operating room clicked open.

A pediatrician wrapped in surgical scrubs stepped out into the hallway, pulling off his mask. He looked tired, but his eyes were gentle.

Arthur took three fast strides toward him. "Where is she? Is she alive?"

"Miss Henderson survived the surgery, Mr. Romano," the doctor said. "Her blood pressure has stabilized, and she is resting in recovery."

Arthur let out a ragged, shaking breath, stumbling back a step as a massive weight lifted off his chest. "And... and the baby?"

The doctor smiled softly. "He's very small—just under three pounds—and his lungs are underdeveloped, so we have him in an incubator in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. But he's a fighter, Mr. Romano. He's breathing on his own."