Chapter 7 - The Ghost of Mercy Hospital
The next morning, Marco entered the penthouse with a thick leather bound ledger. Matteo was sitting at the kitchen island, drinking black coffee, having spent the night sleeping on the armchair in the living room to ensure Arya felt safe. Arya was still asleep in the master bedroom.
“We found something, boss,” Marco said, dropping the ledger onto the marble counter. “It took some digging through sealed medical board records, but we found the pattern.”
Matteo opened the ledger. “Tell me.”
“Four years ago, when Adrien Vale was a resident at Mercy Hospital, he was engaged to a pediatric nurse named Elena Vance. Six months into the engagement, she abruptly resigned, moved to Seattle, and changed her name. The official record says she left due to stress.” Marco leaned in, his voice dropping. “Our guys in Seattle tracked her down last night. She was terrified, but when we told her we were protecting Arya, she talked. Adrien broke her jaw, Matteo. His father used his judicial power to seal the hospital records, threaten the board, and pay Elena a two-million-dollar settlement out of an offshore trust to sign an NDA.”
Matteo’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous heat filling his chest. “We have a pattern of physical abuse and a judicial cover-up. That’s enough to ruin the father’s career, but it doesn't give us immediate leverage over the son. Adrien is a sociopath; he won't care about his father's reputation if he’s consumed by rage.”
“There’s more,” Marco smiled, a grim, humorless baring of his teeth. “Adrien has a gambling problem. He’s been betting heavily on underground high-stakes poker games run by the Russian syndicate in North Chicago. He owes them four million dollars. He’s been skimming expensive, restricted pharmaceuticals from St. Catherine’s hospital pharmacy—fentanyl, liquid sedatives—and selling them to the Russians to pay off his interest.”
Matteo slowly closed the ledger. A cold smile spread across his face. “Skimming narcotics from a children's hospital to pay off an illegal gambling debt to a foreign syndicate. Now that is an indictment even his father can't dismiss.”
The door to the bedroom opened softly, and Arya stepped out, wearing one of Matteo's oversized white linen shirts. Her hair was messy, and she looked vulnerable, but the fear in her eyes had been replaced by a quiet, determined clarity.
“I heard everything,” she said, walking toward the kitchen island. “If you use that information, Matteo, you can’t just leak it to the press. The Vale family will buy the media outlets or claim the evidence was fabricated by a mafia organization.”
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Matteo looked at her, admire flashing in his dark eyes. “What do you suggest, my brilliant secretary?”
Arya leaned against the counter, her eyes locked onto the ledger. “We don't go to the press. We invite Chief Justice Vale to a private meeting. We let him see that his son’s crimes will not just ruin his legacy—they will put his entire family in a federal penitentiary. We force the father to strip Adrien of his protection. We make Adrien untouchable to no one.”
