Chapter 5 - The Nurse’s Burden
The master suite of the penthouse was larger than the entire apartment Sarah rented in the east end of the city.
A king-sized bed covered in dark Egyptian cotton sat near a floor-to-ceiling glass wall looking out over the rain-swept harbor. A gas fireplace crackled softly in the corner, throwing warm orange light across the plush velvet sofas and polished hardwood floor.
Dr. Evans, a gray-haired, meticulous man who had been the Torino family’s private physician for two decades, sat beside Emma, gently wrapping a soft bandage around her wrist where the dark bruises were already beginning to fade under a cooling salve.
"She’s suffering from mild dehydration and exhaustion, Miss Chen," Dr. Evans said quietly, standing up and packing his medical bag. "No broken bones, thankfully. A few superficial contusions. I’ve given her an oral liquid sedative—very mild. She should sleep for eight to ten hours."
"Thank you, Doctor," Sarah whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking Emma’s dark hair as the child’s eyelids grew heavy.
Within five minutes, Emma’s breathing smoothed into the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep.
The heavy oak door of the suite clicked open softly.
Vincent walked in. He had stripped off his suit jacket, rolling the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt up to his elbows, revealing thick, muscular forearms laced with old silver scars. He carried a silver tray with two porcelain cups of tea and a small plate of warm broth.
"Doctor," Vincent nodded to Evans.
"She’s stable, Vincent," the doctor replied, bowing his head respectfully before slipping out the door, closing it silently behind him.
Vincent set the tray on the nightstand near the fireplace. He picked up one of the tea cups and handed it to Sarah.
"You haven't stopped shaking since you got here," Vincent said softly.
Sarah looked down at the steaming cup in her hands. The scent of chamomile and honey drifted up, soothing her raw nerves slightly. "I’m not used to this world, Mr. Torino."
"Call me Vincent," he said, taking a seat in the leather armchair opposite her. "And nobody is used to this world, Sarah. That’s why people build walls."
She took a slow sip of the warm tea, feeling the heat spread through her chest. "Leo told me you were a bad man. He said you’d killed people."
Vincent didn't blink. "Leo didn't lie to you."
"Then why did he send me here?" Sarah looked straight into his gray eyes—eyes that looked like polished steel under the firelight. "Why did he trust a killer with his daughter?"
Vincent looked toward the sleeping child on the bed. His expression hardened into something old and heavy.
"Because in our world," Vincent said quietly, "there are killers who live by a code, and there are monsters who burn everything simply because they like the smell of ash. My cousin Victor is a monster. He believes power is measured by how many people you can force to kneel."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"My father taught me that power is measured by how many people you can keep safe behind your back," Vincent continued. "Leo knew that. He knew that as long as I breathed, nobody would lay a finger on that little girl."
Sarah stared at him. She had spent her entire adult life working in the emergency room, seeing the bloody aftermath of the war Vincent and his family waged on the streets. She had judged men like him from afar, seeing them as cancer on the city. But sitting here, in the quiet luxury of his private sanctuary, watching the fierce, terrifying warmth in his eyes as he looked at the orphaned girl, she felt her judgment begin to crack.
"There's something else," Sarah said suddenly, setting her cup down on the tray.
Vincent looked up. "What?"
Sarah reached into the deep pocket of her scrubs, pulling out a small, rectangular object wrapped in a plastic specimen bag. Inside was a sleek, black USB flash drive marked with a silver corporate seal.
"Leo gave me this before he died," Sarah whispered. "He told me not to show it to anyone except you. He said... he said this is why Victor killed his wife."
Vincent’s jaw locked. His hand reached out and took the bag.
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"Do you know what's on this, Sarah?"
"No," she said softly. "He just said it was the key to everything."
