Chapter 8 - The Viper in White
The estate went into complete lockdown within sixty seconds. Heavy steel blast shutters descended over all the glass windows, security guards armed with assault rifles lined every hallway, and all communication lines were intercepted by Roman's private intelligence team.
I spent the next three hours monitoring Julian's recovery in the ICU wing. The toxin was a rare chemical compound known as VX-3, a synthetic nerve agent designed to mimic a sudden stroke or heart attack.
"Nora," Kyle whispered, coming into the ICU room with a secure tablet. "The lab report came back on the food samples from the executive dining room. Julian's salad was clean. His water was clean. But his routine daily vitamin injection... was laced with the agent."
I stood up slowly, my stomach dropping into a dark abyss. "Who administered his daily vitamin injection?"
Kyle looked at the tablet, his face turning pale. "Dr. Harrison."
My blood ran cold.
Before I could call Roman, the glass door to the ICU slid open. Dr. Harrison stepped into the room, holding a stainless-steel syringe tray. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and his expression was completely void of emotion—cold, hollow, and detached.
"Dr. Harrison," I said calmly, stepping between him and Julian's bed. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to finish the treatment, Nurse Whitaker," Harrison said softly, reaching into his coat pocket.
"The treatment is complete," I countered, keeping my voice level, my hand sliding slowly toward the emergency alarm button under the counter. "Kyle, step out of the room."
"Kyle stays where he is," Harrison said, pulling a compact, suppressed pistol from his coat and aiming it directly at my chest.
Kyle gasped, taking a terrified step backward.
"You're working for Vance," I said, holding Harrison's cold gaze, buying time. "They bought you."
"They paid me five million dollars, Nora," Harrison sneered, his finger tightening slightly on the trigger. "Do you really think I wanted to spend the rest of my life playing assistant to a disgraced nurse from Oregon? Roman DeLuca thinks he can buy loyalty with fear, but Vance offered me a real retirement."
He raised the weapon toward my head.
"You're very smart, Nora. But you should have stayed in Tacoma."
BANG!
A deafening shot echoed through the room.
Glass shattered into a million pieces.
Dr. Harrison let out a choked gasp, dropping the gun as a dark red hole opened in the center of his chest. He stumbled backward, crashing onto the marble floor, his eyes rolling back as life drained from his body.
Standing outside the shattered glass partition was Roman DeLuca, holding a smoking heavy-caliber pistol, his face dark as judgment day.
Behind him stood Owen, his weapon drawn, clearing the hallway.
Roman stepped through the broken frame, stepping over Harrison's body without giving it a second glance. He walked straight up to me, grabbed my face in his large, trembling hands, and pulled me against his chest in a ferocious, desperate embrace.
"Are you hurt?" Roman whispered into my hair, his chest heaving violently. "Nora, answer me!"
"I'm fine," I breathed, wrapping my arms around his waist, burying my face in his shoulder. "I'm fine, Roman."
"He was the inside threat," Roman growled, his voice thick with raw emotion. "He was the one who leaked our location in Tacoma. He was the one who tried to tear my world apart."
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He pulled back slightly, looking down into my eyes with a fierce, burning passion that took my breath away.
"I almost lost you," Roman murmured softly, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. "I built this fortress to keep the world away, and I almost let the devil kill the only light I've found in five years."
