Chapter 7 - The Underground Clinic
We ignored the radio and burst into the hidden medical suite on the second floor.
Roman laid Titan gently on a stainless steel surgical table under bright surgical lights.
I grabbed a trauma kit from the glass cabinets, relying on my old veterinary technician training.
Roman stood back, his powerful chest heaving as he watched me work.
I quickly sterilized the wound and confirmed the bullet had simply grazed the muscle.
I administered a local anesthetic, stitched the torn skin, and wrapped the shoulder in thick white bandages.
Titan rested his heavy chin on my arm, his breathing finally returning to a steady, calm rhythm.
Roman handed me a clean towel to wipe the blood from my hands.
He looked at me with a profound intensity that made my stomach flutter nervously.
He told me that I was the bravest civilian he had ever met in his entire life.
I looked away, embarrassed by the sudden vulnerability in the terrifying crime boss.
I reminded him that Detective Vance was waiting for a confirmation on the radio.
Roman’s expression instantly hardened back into the ruthless billionaire everyone feared.
He stated that Vance wanted to meet at the docks because Julian’s private cargo ship was arriving tonight.
Julian was coming to Boston to personally oversee the hostile takeover of the empire.
Roman grabbed an assault rifle from a hidden weapon rack behind the medical supplies.
He told me to stay in the locked clinic with Titan while he handled the execution.
I shook my head and stood up straight, crossing my arms over my chest.
I told him that Vance had ruined my life, framed me for murder, and blown up my store.
I demanded to go with him to clear my name and confront the man who destroyed my future.
Roman tried to argue, but Titan suddenly sat up on the table and let out a low growl of agreement.
Roman sighed, realizing he could not argue with both of us.
He handed me a lightweight bulletproof vest and a compact pistol.
We left the mansion and drove a heavily armored sedan toward the Boston harbor.
The docks were completely abandoned, cloaked in thick fog and freezing rain.
We crept silently toward Pier 44, using the stacked shipping containers for cover.
We found Detective Vance standing under a flickering street lamp, smoking a cigarette.
Roman raised his rifle, prepared to end the detective’s life right there in the rain.
But before Roman could pull the trigger, Vance tossed his cigarette into a puddle and smiled.
Vance shouted into the darkness that he knew we were watching him.
Then Vance opened the trunk of his police cruiser.
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My heart stopped completely.
Lying inside the trunk, gagged and bound with zip-ties, was my younger sister.
