Chapter 5 - WHEN THE GATES OPENED
Adrian locked the door.
“Get behind the bed,” he ordered.
I stared at him.
“I cannot crawl behind a bed.”
“Then stay low.”
Gabriel removed a second pistol from an ankle holster and handed it to Adrian.
“You have two magazines.”
“What about you?”
Gabriel drew another weapon from beneath his jacket.
“I planned ahead.”
Even in darkness, Adrian gave him an irritated look.
The monitor continued beeping beside me.
My daughter’s heartbeat was steady, but every gunshot made my body tighten.
Footsteps thundered through the corridor.
Someone shouted.
A burst of automatic fire followed.
Dr. Levin’s voice came through a small speaker near the ceiling.
“Medical wing, this is Levin. The main generator is disabled. Backup power is not responding.”
Adrian pressed the communication button.
“Where are you?”
“Operating room two with Sloan and two nurses.”
“Lock the door.”
“What do you think I did?”
The speaker went silent.
Gabriel checked his phone.
“No signal.”
“This facility blocks outside transmissions,” Adrian said.
“Internal security network is down.”
“Then someone reached the control room.”
Gabriel nodded.
“The attack is coming from inside.”
The words settled over us.
The property had armed guards at every gate.
Security cameras covered every hallway.
The underground medical wing could only be reached by an elevator requiring biometric authorization.
Someone had opened the doors.
A violent cramp seized my stomach.
I doubled forward.
Adrian was beside me instantly.
“What happened?”
“Contraction.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
Another tightening followed.
The monitor changed.
My daughter’s heartbeat accelerated.
Adrian looked toward the door as though he could shoot the pain itself.
“We need Sloan.”
“She’s across the corridor,” Gabriel said.
“I’ll get her.”
“No.”
Adrian’s answer was immediate.
Gabriel frowned.
“She needs a doctor.”
“You stay here.”
“Your priority is Elena.”
“My priority is knowing who stands behind me.”
The two men looked at each other.
Something passed between them that I could not name.
Nine years of loyalty.
Or nine years of suspicion.
A heavy impact struck the outer door at the end of the corridor.
Voices followed.
“Moretti security! Identify yourself!”
No one answered.
Another impact.
Then gunfire.
Gabriel touched the handle of our room.
“I’m bringing Sloan.”
Adrian stepped in front of him.
“Give me your access card.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever entered this wing used an authorized identity.”
“You think it was mine?”
“I think it could have been anyone’s.”
Gabriel slowly removed the card from his pocket.
Adrian examined it.
The edge was scratched.
“You used this tonight?”
“At the garage entrance.”
“After that?”
“No.”
Adrian held it toward the pale monitor light.
A thin transparent film covered the back.
He peeled it away.
Beneath it was a duplicate biometric strip.
Gabriel’s face changed.
“That is not mine.”
“Someone copied your access.”
“When?”
“Perhaps when the nurse cut your arm,” I said.
They both looked at me.
“She grabbed him near the doorway. She could have pressed something against his pocket.”
Gabriel swore under his breath.
The woman at the clinic had not expected to survive.
Perhaps her real purpose had never been the syringe.
Perhaps she had needed Gabriel’s access card.
The speaker crackled again.
“Elena?” Dr. Sloan’s voice called.
I pressed the button.
“I’m here.”
“Are you contracting?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“I don’t know. Two close together.”
“Any fluid?”
“No.”
“Bleeding?”
I checked the sheet.
A dark red stain spread beneath me.
My heart stopped.
“Yes.”
Adrian saw it.
The weapon in his hand lowered.
For one second, fear completely stripped him of power.
Dr. Sloan’s voice sharpened.
“I need to reach her now.”
Gunfire sounded outside the operating room.
Someone screamed.
The speaker went dead.
Adrian turned to Gabriel.
“Open the door.”
“You told me to stay.”
“I changed my mind.”
Gabriel unlocked the room and slipped into the hallway.
Adrian remained beside me, pistol aimed toward the entrance.
The pain returned.
This time, it did not fade.
“My water,” I gasped.
Warm fluid spread across the bed.
Adrian looked down.
“Elena?”
“My water broke.”
He pressed the wall speaker repeatedly.
“Sloan!”
No answer.
The baby’s heartbeat fell.
One hundred and fifteen.
One hundred and six.
Ninety-nine.
“Adrian.”
“I see it.”
“What do we do?”
He had faced armed men without blinking.
Now his hand shook.
“I don’t know.”
The door opened.
He raised the pistol.
Bianca stood in the hallway holding a rifle.
Blood covered one side of her coat.
“Don’t shoot me.”
“Where is Gabriel?”
“Trying to reach Sloan.”
“How did you get out?”
“The guard outside my room was one of them.”
“Did you kill him?”
“He tried to kill me first.”
She entered and locked the door.
“The attackers are wearing Moretti security uniforms.”
“How many?”
“At least eight.”
“Who opened the gates?”
“I don’t know.”
“You always know more than you admit.”
“And you always ask questions when there isn’t time for answers.”
Bianca saw the blood beneath me.
Her face changed.
“Oh, God.”
“She needs Sloan.”
“I can reach the operating room through the service passage.”
Adrian looked at her.
“What service passage?”
“Father built an escape corridor between the suites.”
“I have the plans. There is no corridor.”
“Then Father did not trust you with all his secrets.”
Bianca moved toward a cabinet and pressed the lower edge.
Nothing happened.
“The electronic release is dead.”
She used the rifle stock to break the panel.
Behind it was a manual lever.
When she pulled it, part of the wall shifted inward.
A narrow passage appeared.
Adrian stared at her.
“How long have you known about this?”
“Since I was sixteen.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
“Because Father needed one child who could leave the house without permission.”
Another contraction tore through me.
I screamed.
Bianca disappeared into the passage.
Adrian placed his gun on the table and held my shoulders.
“Look at me.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“She’s too early.”
“She is a Moretti.”
“That does not make her bulletproof.”
“No,” he said. “It makes her stubborn.”
Despite the pain, a broken laugh escaped me.
He pressed his forehead against mine.
“I am sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
The door handle moved.
Adrian grabbed his pistol.
A voice came from the hallway.
“Mr. Moretti, it’s Russo. We have the wing secured.”
Russo was one of Adrian’s oldest guards.
I had known him since our wedding.
Adrian did not unlock the door.
“Security phrase.”
Silence.
Then Russo answered.
“Lake ice never breaks.”
Adrian’s expression became cold.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered.
“The phrase was changed yesterday.”
The first bullets struck the door.
Adrian pushed the bed onto its side and pulled me down behind it.
The mattress blocked part of the entrance.
Gunfire tore through the wooden door.
Metal instruments crashed to the floor.
The monitor alarm screamed.
Adrian fired twice through the damaged panels.
A body fell outside.
More shots answered.
He shielded me with his body.
“Stay down.”
“You’ll be hit.”
“Then stay beneath me.”
The hidden wall opened.
Bianca emerged with Dr. Sloan and Dr. Levin.
“Move!” Dr. Sloan shouted.
They pulled me through the passage on a narrow evacuation board.
Adrian fired toward the doorway before following us.
The hidden panel closed behind him.
The service corridor was barely wide enough for the board. Red battery lights glowed near the floor.
“Where does this lead?” Adrian asked.
“To the old chapel,” Bianca answered.
“The chapel is half a mile from the house.”
“There’s a tunnel.”
“Of course there is.”
Dr. Sloan checked my pulse while Dr. Levin watched the portable fetal monitor.
“We need to deliver,” he said.
“Not in a tunnel,” I gasped.
“The baby’s heart rate is falling.”
“We have a surgical room beneath the chapel,” Bianca said.
Adrian stared at her.
“What else did Father build without telling me?”
“A confession room. A weapons vault. Two escape tunnels.”
“Anything useful?”
“The chapel room was stocked as a field hospital.”
“When?”
“Nine years ago.”
Dr. Levin frowned.
“Then none of the equipment will be reliable.”
“The oxygen tanks were replaced last month,” Bianca said.
Everyone looked at her.
“Why?”
She tightened her grip on the rifle.
“Because I knew this night was coming.”
The tunnel shook as an explosion sounded behind us.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Adrian grabbed Bianca’s arm.
“What did you know?”
She pulled free.
“That Carlo planned to take the house.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“You knew and said nothing?”
“I tried to warn you six months ago.”
“You sent me false photographs of Elena.”
“I sent them because I needed you to push her away.”
“You destroyed my marriage.”
“I kept your wife alive.”
“You made her vulnerable.”
“I did not know she was carrying the trust heir.”
“You knew she was pregnant.”
“I knew she might be. I did not know Father’s clause would activate before the birth.”
The pain became unbearable.
“Stop arguing!”
They both went silent.
Dr. Sloan squeezed my hand.
“We are almost there.”
The tunnel ended at a steel staircase.
Adrian and Gabriel—who joined us through another passage with blood on his collar—carried the evacuation board upward.
The chapel above us smelled of dust, candle wax, and cold stone.
A marble statue of the Virgin Mary watched from the altar.
Beneath the sacristy was a small medical room.
Most of the cabinets were empty.
But the oxygen system worked.
The surgical lights activated with a manual generator.
Dr. Sloan examined me.
“The placenta is separating. We cannot wait.”
“Can you perform a cesarean here?” Adrian asked.
“Not safely.”
Dr. Levin opened a sealed equipment cabinet.
“We have sterile instruments.”
“No anesthesia machine.”
“We have regional blocks and emergency medication.”
“No blood supply.”
Gabriel entered carrying two coolers.
“The medical wing’s blood refrigerator was on an independent battery.”
Dr. Levin checked the labels.
“Elena’s blood type?”
“O positive,” Dr. Sloan said.
Gabriel opened the first cooler.
Six units.
Dr. Sloan looked at Adrian.
“This is still extremely dangerous.”
He took my hand.
“What does she need?”
“A hospital.”
“The roads are controlled by whoever attacked the house.”
“Then we call a helicopter.”
“No external signal in the tunnel,” Gabriel said. “We need to reach the chapel tower.”
“I’ll go,” Bianca offered.
Adrian stopped her.
“You knew about the attack. You are not leaving my sight.”
“If I wanted Elena dead, I could have left her in that room.”
“Both of you stop,” Dr. Sloan said. “We don’t have time.”
She looked at me.
“Elena, listen carefully. We can try to move you, but the baby may not survive the trip. Or we deliver here.”
I looked at Adrian.
His face was pale beneath the blood and dust.
For months, I had imagined giving birth alone in a peaceful hospital.
Instead, armed men surrounded an underground room while an army attacked the property above us.
My daughter’s heartbeat slowed again.
I knew there was no choice.
“Deliver her.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Dr. Sloan began issuing orders.
As the doctors prepared the equipment, Gabriel climbed the stairs to secure the chapel.
Bianca helped the nurse arrange supplies.
Adrian remained beside me.
“You will stay awake,” he said.
“Is that another order?”
“A request.”
I managed a weak smile.
“Then ask properly.”
He lowered his forehead to my hand.
“Elena, please stay with me.”
Before I could answer, a baby’s cry echoed faintly through the chapel above us.
Everyone froze.
Dr. Sloan looked at my stomach.
The cry came again.
Not from the underground room.
From upstairs.
Adrian drew his weapon.
Bianca’s face went white.
“There should not be a baby here.”
A man’s voice came through the chapel speaker.
“Adrian Moretti.”
Carlo.
“I know you can hear me.”
Adrian stared at the ceiling.
May you like
Carlo continued.
“Bring Elena to the altar, or the child you hear crying will be the first infant to die tonight.”
