Chapter 12 - The Reckoning|
The armored ambulance tore through the storm-drenched streets of the city, flanked by six black SUVs with flashing emergency lights.
Inside, paramedics worked frantically to stabilize Nelia’s soaring blood pressure while Diego held her hand in an unbreakable grip.
Every time a contraction hit her, she squeezed his fingers until his bones creaked, but he didn't pull away for a single second.
“Breathe, my heart,” Diego whispered repeatedly, brushing wet strands of hair from her sweat-drenched forehead.
“You are strong. You can do this.”
While the sirens screamed through the rainy night, Diego’s phone buzzed incessantly against his belt.
He answered with one hand, keeping the other locked tightly around Nelia’s trembling fingers.
“Tell me it’s done, Luca,” Diego demanded into the receiver.
“It’s finished, boss,” Luca reported, the sound of federal sirens echoing in the background of the call.
“The FBI and State Police raided District Attorney Vance’s penthouse twenty minutes ago.”
“We delivered the complete offshore account records, the phone recordings, and the cartel shipping manifests directly to the Attorney General.”
“Vance tried to run out the service elevator,” Luca added with satisfaction.
“He was arrested in handcuffs in the lobby with forty television cameras filming his disgrace.”
Diego listened with cold satisfaction, his jaw clenching tight.
“And Julianna?”
“She was booked as an unindicted co-conspirator for corporate espionage and treason,” Luca answered smoothly.
“Her bail was set at fifty million dollars, and her family assets have been completely frozen by the federal government.”
“She is weeping in a holding cell downtown, begging to speak with you.”
“Let her rot there,” Diego ordered coldly.
“Tell the warden she receives no visitors, no special treatment, and no phone calls.”
He hung up the phone and threw it onto the ambulance floor, banishing the outside world from his existence forever.
The mafia war was over.
The corrupt politicians were behind bars.
His enemies had been completely dismantled in a single night of absolute reckoning.
None of it mattered compared to the woman writhing in pain on the stretcher before him.
The ambulance skidded to a halt outside the emergency entrance of St. Jude’s Medical Pavilion.
The doors flew open, and a team of doctors and nurses immediately swarmed the vehicle, pulling Nelia’s gurney out into the hospital corridor.
“Maternal heart rate is one-forty! Contractions are two minutes apart!” a nurse shouted as they sprinted down the hallway.
Diego ran alongside the gurney, his hand never leaving Nelia’s for a fraction of a second.
“Sir, you can’t enter the sterile delivery room without scrubs!” an orderly shouted, trying to block his path.
Diego grabbed the man by the collar of his scrubs with one hand, lifting him off his feet with terrifying fury.
“That is my wife and my child,” Diego growled with lethal authority.
“I am walking into that room, or I will tear this hospital down brick by brick.”
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The orderly went pale and immediately pointed toward the scrub station.
“Right this way, sir.”
