Chapter 7 - The Crimson Perimeter
Within ten minutes of Gabriel’s call, Saint Jude’s Children's Hospital was transformed into a fortress.
Dominic walked into the private room, his face dark, his tactical vest fastened beneath his open coat. "The Moretti penthouse is cleared, boss. Vincent slipped through a service tunnel before the team could breach. He’s running scared, which makes him desperate."
"Desperate men make mistakes," Gabriel said, adjusting his sleeves. "He knows he can't win in the streets. He’ll try to strike where he thinks I am vulnerable. Right here."
"The hospital administration is asking questions about the armed men in the lobby," Dominic noted.
"Buy the hospital," Gabriel replied without hesitation. "Wire twenty million to the board of directors from the Caymans account within five minutes. If they complain, wire another ten. No one questions my men on this floor."
"Understood." Dominic turned to leave, but Gabriel caught his shoulder.
"Dominic."
"Sir?"
"If a single round is fired on this floor while she is asleep, I will hold you personally responsible. Use suppressors. Keep the noise below forty decibels."
"Consider it done."
Gabriel returned to Elsie’s side. The child moved slightly, her eyelashes fluttering. A tiny, raspy breath hitched in her throat, and she let out a soft groan.
Gabriel immediately leaned down, his broad hand cradling her small head, supporting the pillow. "Elsie. I’m here. You’re safe."
Her eyes slowly opened. They were still heavy with fever, glazed with medication, but when she focused on Gabriel’s face, the tension melted from her tiny frame. She looked up at him through the clear plastic of the oxygen mask.
"Mr... Gabriel..." she whispered, her voice muffled behind the plastic.
"Don't speak, little star," Gabriel said gently, using his thumb to wipe away a bead of sweat from her forehead. "Just rest. The doctors took the bad air out of your lungs."
Elsie looked around the strange white room, her eyes widening with a flicker of childish fear as she saw the IV lines running into the back of her small hand. Her lower lip began to tremble.
"Where... where are we?" she asked, her chest hitching dangerously. "Is Mama here?"
Gabriel’s heart—a heart that had remained frozen and untouched by empathy for over three decades—felt a sharp, agonizing twist. He leaned closer, pressing his forehead gently against her hair.
"Your mama is resting where the storm can't touch her," Gabriel said, his voice thick with a tenderness he had never known he possessed. "She asked me to watch over you. You are in a hospital, Elsie. And nobody—nobody in this entire world—is going to hurt you while I am breathing."
Elsie looked down at her hand. She felt the crumpled paper in her fingers. She lifted the blue star up toward Gabriel, her hazel eyes searching his dark ones.
"You kept it," she whispered.
"I will keep it forever," Gabriel answered, closing his large hand gently over hers, enclosing the star between their palms. "Now close your eyes. Sleep."
Elsie nodded weakly, her eyelids fluttering shut again under the heavy pull of the sedatives. Within a minute, her breathing stabilized into a deep, healing slumber.
May you like
Gabriel didn't move. He kept his hand over hers. But his eyes darted toward the shadow moving silently beneath the crack of the hospital door.
***