Chapter 3 - The Shadow in the Corridor
Two days passed. Under Iris’s diligent care, Orion made a remarkable recovery. Though blind, he began using his keen sense of smell and hearing to navigate the clinic layout, following Iris everywhere like a nine-pound shadow.
Enzo visited every single evening at 7:00 p.m. without fail. He never brought his armed entourage inside; he left them at the door, stepping into the clinic alone.
During those evening visits, Iris saw a side of Enzo Valenti that the criminal world never saw. He brought her dinner from the finest Italian restaurants in the city, sat in her quiet office, and listened to her talk about her veterinary work, her love for animals, and her quiet life in the county. In turn, Enzo spoke of his late wife, his desire to clean up his syndicate’s legal operations, and the rising tide of treachery within his ranks.
A deep, unspoken warmth began to grow between them—a quiet understanding forged in the late hours of the night.
On the third night, around 11:00 p.m., after Enzo had just left for an urgent meeting at his downtown headquarters, Iris stayed late in her laboratory analyzing Orion’s blood work.
The clinic was quiet, save for the howling wind outside.
Suddenly, Orion—who was sleeping on his blanket in her office—stood up. His ears twitched forward, and a low, terrifying rumble began deep within his chest.
Iris paused, holding a glass beaker. "Orion? What is it, boy?"
The dog didn't bark. He stepped out of the office, his head held low, stepping silently toward the back supply room.
Iris followed him cautiously, picking up a heavy steel flashlight from her desk.
The lock on the back emergency door had been cleanly picked. The heavy door swung open an inch, letting in a cold draft of winter air.
Inside the dark supply room, a figure was standing over the shelf where Orion’s medical records and blood samples were stored.
"Who's there?!" Iris shouted, shining the flashlight beam straight into the darkness.
The intruder spun around. He wore a dark ski mask, but the bright flashlight beam reflected off a distinctive gold ring on his right hand—the Valenti family signet ring, featuring a carved falcon.
It was Julian.
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Before Iris could scream, the intruder lunged at her, knocking the flashlight from her hand. It hit the floor, rolling under a table, casting frantic, wildly swinging shadows across the room.
He grabbed Iris by her shoulders, slamming her hard against the brick wall. "You should have kept your nose out of Valenti business, Doc," a masked voice hissed into her ear.
