Chapter 3 - The King of the Underworld
I gasped for air, staring straight into eyes that were coal-black, ruthless, and terrifyingly sharp even through a haze of agony.
"Daddy, no!" Sophie cried out, rushing forward. "She saved you! The diner lady saved you!"
Roman Blackwell blinked, the intense predatory instinct fading slightly as the reality of his surroundings crashed back into his consciousness. He looked down at his chest—heavily bandaged, stable—then down at my face, where his fingers were still pressed against my windpipe.
Slowly, his grip loosened. He slumped back against the pillows, groaning as pain ripped through his core.
"Who..." his voice was a low, gravelly rasp. "Who sent you?"
"Nobody sent me," I breathed, touching my throat as I sat up. "Your daughter called the Starlight Diner at two in the morning because you were dying on your rug."
Roman turned his head slowly, looking at Sophie, then back at me. He saw my blood-stained diner uniform, the stethoscope around my neck, and the empty IV bags hanging above him.
For a man who ruled Chicago’s underground empire with an iron fist—a man whose very name made politicians and cartel bosses tremble—seeing a defenseless, exhausted waitress kneeling in his blood was a puzzle he couldn't immediately process.
"You... didn't call the police?" he muttered, scanning my eyes for deceit. "Or an ambulance?"
"Sophie said you weren't breathing right," I said quietly, adjusting his IV drip. "An ambulance to Kensington Heights takes twenty minutes. You had maybe five. If I waited, you’d be dead. I lost someone because an ambulance was late once. I wasn't going to let it happen to her."
Roman stared at me in complete silence. For the first time in his life, Roman Blackwell was looking at a person who wanted absolutely nothing from him.
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Before he could speak again, the panic room's external comms chimed. A man’s urgent voice came through the speaker: "Boss! It’s Marcus. We secured the perimeter. The Moretti family sent a hit squad—we wiped them out, but we need to know if you're alive!"
Roman pressed a button on the wall panel, his voice turning ice-cold and instantly commanding despite his mortal injury. "I'm alive, Marcus. Seal the property. And bring the doctor up. But touch no one in this room, or I'll skin you myself."
