Chapter 5 - The Hunt in the Underworld
The snowstorm outside worsened into a blinding whiteout, wrapping the Marchetti estate in an isolated cocoon of howling wind and freezing temperatures. Inside, however, the atmosphere was burning hot with retaliatory fury.
Arya watched from the window of the grand study as Bruno and four armed security operatives loaded into a fleet of black SUVs parked outside. Within seconds, the vehicles disappeared into the swirling snow.
"They'll find her," Rocco said quietly, stepping up beside her. He was holding a heavy woolen jacket, which he draped over Arya's shoulders without asking.
Arya looked down at the jacket. It smelled of cedar, leather, and expensive tobacco. "And if she's already dead? Or if her handlers got to her first?"
"My men don't fail," Rocco replied, his tone absolute. He turned his dark, intense gaze towards her. "You have an analytical mind, Dr. Vance. You saw the video. You knew what to look for instantly. Why did a brilliant surgeon end up scrubbing floors in a county community center?"
Arya stiffened. The warmth of the jacket suddenly felt heavy. She pulled the lapels tighter around herself, looking away toward the roaring fireplace.
"People fall from grace, Mr. Marchetti. Usually when they trust the wrong people."
"Tell me," Rocco insisted, stepping closer. "I don't like secrets in my house."
Taking a deep breath, Arya finally decides to tell the truth—or at least, her side of it.
"Three years ago, at Johns Hopkins, I was leading a clinical trial for a revolutionary artificial heart valve," she began, her voice steady despite the painful memories clawing at her throat. "My chief of surgery, Dr. Richard Sterling, wanted to falsify the trial data to push the device through FDA approval prematurely so his venture capitalist friends could cash out."
She paused, swallowing hard. "I refused to sign off on the falsified reports. The night before I was scheduled to blow the whistle to the ethics board, one of my post-op patients coded and died. When I arrived at the ICU, my medication charts had been altered. Lethal doses of potassium chloride had been logged under my digital signature."
Rocco listening in absolute silence, his eyes never leaving her face.
"The board didn't investigate," Arya whispered, a tear finally escaping and tracking down her cheek. "They scapegoated me instantly to protect the hospital's multi-million-dollar reputation. They called me the 'Angel of Death' in the press. My license was suspended, my bank accounts were frozen, and Sterling threatened that if I ever tried to clear my name, my mother would lose her spot at the dialysis clinic."
She turned to face him, her eyes fierce. "So I ran. I hid. I became Annie the maid, because cleaning floors was the only way to keep my mother alive day by day."
The room was dead silent save for the crackling of the fire.
Rocco reached out. His large, called hand gently touched her cheek, his thumb wiping away the solitary tear. His touch was surprisingly tender for a man who ruled a criminal empire.
"Dr. Sterling," Rocco murmured, his voice sounding like a death sentence. "What is his current address?"
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"He's still in Baltimore," Arya breathed, started by the dark promise in Rocco's eyes. "Why?"
"Because nobody ruins a life like yours and gets away with it while breathing my air," Rocco replied coldly. "Once we deal with the rat who poisoned my son, we are going to take a little trip to Maryland."
