Chapter 15 - Blood on the MarbleI had never seen a man like Luka Moretti bleed.
Some part of me thought men like him did not.
They caused bleeding. Survived it. Walked through it.
But he fell hard against the marble floor, one hand pressed to his side, blood spreading between his fingers.
For one second, the room stopped.
Then everything happened at once.
Mara shoved Mila into my arms and pushed us behind the wall.
Anna screamed Luka’s name.
Guards returned fire through shattered glass.
Derek crawled toward the hallway, clutching his shoulder.
Smoke thickened.
The baby cried against my chest, and I held her so tightly Mara had to pry my arms loose enough for Mila to breathe.
“Claire,” Mara said sharply. “Look at me. She needs air.”
I loosened my hold, sobbing without sound.
Luka was still on the floor.
Trying to stand.
Of course he was.
“Stay down!” Anna yelled.
He ignored her.
A guard dragged him behind cover.
Derek looked at me from across the room.
Even injured, even defeated, he smiled.
Because he thought Luka bleeding meant I was alone again.
He had never understood.
I was not the girl in the hospital hallway anymore.
I shifted Mila into Mara’s arms.
“What are you doing?” Mara demanded.
“Ending something.”
I stepped out before anyone could stop me.
Derek’s eyes widened.
“Claire, don’t be stupid.”
I picked up the folder he had dropped when he fell.
Inside were court papers.
Custody documents.
A medical transport authorization.
And a consent form for neonatal blood extraction.
Already signed.
By Derek.
By Arthur.
And with a forged signature above my name.
Something ancient and furious rose inside me.
I walked toward Derek.
He tried to stand.
Couldn’t.
“You signed my name,” I said.
“Claire—”
“You signed away my baby’s blood.”
“You don’t understand what she is.”
“She is my daughter.”
“She is evidence!” he snapped.
The room went silent.
Even he realized what he had said.
I looked at the guards.
The cameras.
The broken windows.
“Did everyone hear that?”
Luka, pale and bleeding, smiled from the floor.
“Every camera in this room has backup power.”
Derek’s face changed.
I knelt in front of him.
Not close enough for him to touch.
“Thank you,” I said.
He stared.
“For finally telling the truth.”
Arthur Ashford’s private men were forced back within minutes.
Police arrived after that.
Real police this time.
Not the ones Derek thought he owned.
Luka had called federal contacts before the power fully went out.
Because of course he had.
Derek was taken out on a stretcher, shouting that I was unstable, that Luka had brainwashed me, that the baby belonged to his family.
No one listened.
Not yet enough to make him powerless.
But enough to make him afraid.
Luka refused the stretcher until Mara threatened to sedate him.
At the private medical suite downstairs, doctors worked on him while I stood outside with Mila.
Anna sat on the floor beside me.
“He always gets shot when he’s being noble,” she muttered.
I looked at her.
“That happens often?”
“More than is emotionally healthy.”
I almost laughed.
Then the doctor came out.
“He’ll live.”
My knees gave out.
Anna caught one side of me. Mara caught the other.
Hours later, Luka woke.
I stood beside his bed, Mila sleeping in my arms.
His eyes found her first.
Then me.
“Are you hurt?” he rasped.
“No.”
“The baby?”
“Safe.”
He closed his eyes.
I should have thanked him.
Instead, I said, “You don’t get to die before telling me the whole truth.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“Demanding woman.”
“Exhausted woman.”
“Fair.”
I looked at the bandage under his ribs.
“Derek said women connected to the Moretti line end up dead or hidden.”
The faint smile disappeared.
I waited.
May you like
Luka looked toward Mila.
Then whispered, “Because my mother was M-01.”
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