Chapter 2 - The Black Fleet
""Move,"" Luca said, his casual demeanor evaporating into lethally controlled speed.
He didn't wait for her permission. Stripping off his heavy wool overcoat with a single fluid motion, he draped it over Elena’s shoulders. The fabric swallowed her tiny frame completely, trapping the warmth and the scent of expensive sandalwood and gun oil.
A sharp curse sounded behind them as Mateo scrambled to his feet, shouting down the intersecting corridor. ""In the east wing! Shoot the bastard, but keep the baby alive!""
Two men in dark windbreakers turned the corner, weapons raised. Luca didn't draw a gun; he didn't have to. From the service stairwell behind him, two behemoths dressed in tailored black surged forward like rabid hounds. Gunfire shattered the hospital’s silence—muffled, suppressed pops that punched through plaster and flesh with horrifying efficiency.
Elena screamed, throwing her body over the baby, but Luca’s heavy, tattooed hand caught her by the nape of the neck, forcefully guiding her into an elevator marked Authorized Personnel Only.
The doors slid shut just as Mateo’s face appeared in the narrow glass slit, contorted in helpless rage.
""Breathe,"" Luca commanded as the car plummeted toward the basement parking structure. His voice was steady, grounding the frantic pulse pounding in her temples. ""Hysteria will only wake the boy.""
""Who are you to him?"" Elena whispered, tears blurring her vision as she looked down at the tiny bundle in her arms. ""Why would you pay Mateo's debts? Mateo owes millions!""
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The elevator chimed, the hydraulic doors parting to reveal a desolate underground bay where three armored obsidian SUVs idled silently.
""Mateo owes fifty million,"" Luca said quietly, steering her toward the center vehicle. ""And I don't pay debts for strangers, Elena. I only collect what should have been mine twenty years ago.""
