Chapter 4
4
The next evening, Dante sent someone to deliver a message as if nothing had happened.
[Come to Harbor Club. Isabella’s pre-engagement party needs a doctor on standby.]
I did not want to go.
Then Enzo sent me a photo.
My surgical case was sitting on the bar at Harbor Club.
Inside were my field hospital exit papers, a copy of my medical license, and the old pocket watch my grandmother left me.
I did not hesitate. I took a cab there.
Harbor Club was brightly lit. The most polished people in New York’s underworld had all come. Isabella stood in the center in a silver-white gown while Dante lowered his head and adjusted the shawl over her shoulders, as careful as if he might bruise a flower.
When she saw me, she lifted her hand with a smile.
“Doctor girl, you finally came.”
A waiter beside her brought over a tray with wine glasses and a medical kit.
“Dante says you’re good at taking care of people,” Isabella said with a blink. “So tonight, please stay behind me and make sure nothing happens to me.”
A few low laughs sounded around us.
Dante glanced at me and said flatly, “Ava, don’t make the scene ugly.”
I said nothing. I only reached for my surgical case.
Isabella pressed her hand on the clasp first.
“This is pretty.” Her fingertip slid over the old silver clasp. “It doesn’t look like something you could afford.”
It was the old case my grandmother left me. A faint M was engraved on the back of the silver clasp.
I looked up.
“Let go.”
Isabella acted frightened and immediately hid behind Dante.
Dante’s face darkened.
“Ava.”
It was only my name, but it carried a warning.
I looked at him.
“Give me my case, and I’ll leave now.”
He gave a cold laugh, as if I had said something ridiculous.
“Leave?” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Where do you think you can go? Hospitals, clinics, private rescue lines in New York. With one word from me, no one will take you.”
Isabella laughed softly.
“Don’t be like that, Dante. She’s just jealous.”
She picked up a glass of red wine. When she passed me, her wrist tilted.
Wine splashed across my body.
Dark red ran down my white shirt like an ugly wound.
“Oh.” Isabella covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You won’t mind, right? You’re so good at enduring things.”
Someone in the hall finally laughed out loud.
I looked down at the wine stain on my clothes. Somehow, the pain and shame felt far away.
Dante did not blame her.
He only handed my surgical case to Enzo and ordered coldly, “Lock it up. Give it back when she learns the rules.”
I turned and walked toward the door.
Behind me, Dante’s voice turned completely cold.
“Stop her.”
Two guards blocked the entrance. I tried to go around them, but someone kicked the back of my knee.
Pain burst through me, and I dropped hard to the floor.
The room went quiet for a second.
Dante walked up to me and looked down.
“Sleep outside tonight and cool off.” He bent down, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “When you understand who you belong to, come back for your case.”
The next second, the guards dragged me up and threw me out of Harbor Club.
The rain was heavy.
I fell at the bottom of the steps. My palms were scraped open, and my knee hurt so badly I could barely stand. Through the glass doors, I saw Dante return to Isabella and fix the silver shawl around her shoulders.
Then Enzo hurried to Dante’s side.
He leaned in and said something in Dante’s ear.
Dante’s face changed at once.
I caught a few words from the shape of his mouth.
The old don.
Pier 9.
Gunshot.
Near the heart.
Dante shoved aside the wine glass beside him.
“Contact Ghost Surgeon. I don’t care how much it costs. Bring her in.”
At the same time, my phone vibrated.
An encrypted surgery request appeared.
[Emergency Case Request]
[Patient Salvatore Marcelli]
[Condition Gunshot wound near the aortic arch. Remote surgical guidance required immediately.]
[Offer Open price.]
Salvatore Marcelli was Dante’s father, the true old don of the Marcelli family.
I pressed decline without hesitation.
[Request declined.]
Then I slowly sat up and took another phone from the inside pocket of my soaked coat.
It was not a number Dante knew.
The screen lit up with one encrypted contact.
I called.
It rang once.
The person on the other end was silent for two seconds. Then his voice dropped.
“Aviana.”
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and looked up at the bright glass doors of Harbor Club.
“The game is over. In the name of Aviana Moretti, freeze all Moretti support for Marcelli.”
“I want his port shut down before sunrise.”
Inside the glass doors, Dante must have learned that Ghost Surgeon had refused the case. His face was turning worse by the second.
I smiled and continued speaking into the phone.
“Also, send a car for me.”
“I still owe Isabella a greeting gift.”