Chapter 3 - Siren in the Night
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The flashing red and blue lights of the emergency vehicles painted the frosted windowpanes of the Moretti estate in violent shades of crimson and sapphire.
Four paramedics burst through the heavy mahogany front doors with a collapsible gurney and emergency trauma kits.
"The patient is in acute respiratory depression," Dr. Whitmore called out, immediately briefing the lead paramedic with clinical urgency.
"He is running a sustained fever of 104 degrees, presenting with severe bradycardia and suspected deliberate neuro-depressant toxicity."
Benjamin convulsed weakly in my arms, his small hands clutching the lapels of my apron as if letting go would cause him to drown.
"Claire, stay with me," the boy cried, his voice trembling violently as the paramedics carefully transferred his burning body onto the gurney.
"I am right here, sweetheart, and I am not leaving your side for a single second," I promised, gently kissing his sweaty forehead.
Luca stepped up to the gurney, his large, scarred hand enveloping Benjamin’s small, shivering fingers.
"Daddy has to follow in the car, Benny, but Claire is riding in the back with you," Luca whispered with unprecedented gentleness.
As the paramedics wheeled Benjamin toward the open rear doors of the ambulance, Vanessa attempted to rush past the line of guards.
"I am his legal stepmother, and it looks terrible if the press sees the nanny riding with him instead of me!" Vanessa protested shrilly, clutching her designer coat around her shoulders.
Luca grabbed her arm with a grip that made her gasp in pain, spinning her around until she was staring directly into his venomous eyes.
"You are not his mother, you are not his family, and as of this exact second, you are nothing in this house," Luca said with glacial calm.
"Marco, confiscate her phone, her passport, her car keys, and every piece of identification she possesses."
"Lock her in the guest quarters with two armed men outside the door."
"If she attempts to approach a window, touch a computer, or speak to any outside contact, put her in zip-ties."
Vanessa's jaw dropped as Marco stepped between her and the courtyard, stripping her diamond-encrusted purse straight from her hands.
I climbed into the narrow cabin of the ambulance, sitting on the metal bench beside Benjamin’s gurney as the paramedics slammed the doors shut.
The siren screamed into the darkness as the heavy vehicle accelerated down the winding driveway, tires screeching against the wet asphalt.
Inside, the lead medic immediately fitted an oxygen mask over Benjamin’s tiny nose and mouth, monitoring the erratic rhythm on the portable heart monitor.
"His blood pressure is plummeting," the paramedic shouted over the engine's roar, rapidly inserting an intravenous line into Benjamin’s small forearm.
Benjamin cried out in pain, his glazed blue eyes searching desperately through the harsh fluorescent lights until they found mine.
I squeezed his cold, clammy hand with both of mine, singing the soft Italian lullaby his late mother used to hum to him when he was a toddler.
Behind our speeding ambulance, four black armored SUVs led by Luca’s custom Escalade flanked our vehicle, running through red lights and clearing traffic like a military convoy.
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Outside the reinforced tinted windows, the Chicago skyline loomed against the stormy sky, a cold empire ruled by a father who would tear the entire world apart to keep his son alive.
By the time the ambulance skidded into the emergency bay of Chicago Children's Mercy Hospital, Benjamin had slipped completely into unconsciousness.
