Chapter 5 - Following the Money
Dr. Sloan fell to his knees, his hands held high in the air, trembling violently. "It wasn't my idea, Roman! I swear on my life, I had no choice!"
"You have five seconds before I put a bullet in your knee," Roman said smoothly, stepping closer. "Give me a name."
"Moretti!" Sloan screamed, tears cutting tracks through the dust on his cheeks. "Julian Moretti! He approached me two months before your wife's accident! He paid me two million dollars into an offshore account, and he held my daughter's medical debts over my head!"
Elena looked up from the baby, her heart sinking. Julian Moretti was the head of the rival syndicate that had been waging a quiet, vicious war against the Bolaro empire for over a year.
"Moretti wanted your heir dead," Sloan sobbed. "But he didn't want you to burn the city down looking for a stolen child. He ordered me to swap the baby at birth with an unclaimed infant from the public ward, then slowly let the proxy baby die of an 'undiagnosed metabolic illness.' That way, you'd believe nature took your son, you'd grieve, and you wouldn't go to war!"
"And what were you going to do with Nico?" Roman asked, his voice shaking with restrained rage.
"Moretti was going to raise him," Sloan stammered. "As a bargaining chip... or a weapon against your family years later if he ever needed leverage. I kept him alive here until Moretti's team could transport him out of the state tomorrow morning!"
Roman looked down at the pathetic doctor. The logic was insidious, cold, and calculated. Moretti had planned to break Roman's heart, destroy his spirit, and keep his lineage as a silent hostage in the dark.
"Vince," Roman said softly without taking his eyes off Sloan.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Take Dr. Sloan and this nurse to the basement. Keep them alive until I decide what to do with them. And get our private medical team up here immediately."
"Right away, sir."
Roman walked slowly over to the incubator. The gun in his hand disappeared back into his suit coat. With trembling, calloused fingers, he reached through the rubber ports of the incubator and touched his son's tiny hand.
The baby's fingers instinctively curled around Roman's thumb.
May you like
Roman closed his eyes, a single silent tear escaping down his bruised cheek. Elena stood beside him, placing a gentle hand on his broad shoulder.
"He's strong, Roman," she whispered. "He survived nineteen days in the dark. He's your son."
