Chapter 5 - The Clinic Across Town
Roman didn't hesitate. He vaulted back into his car, tires screeching against the wet pavement as he pointed the sedan’s nose toward the medical district.
The rain was coming down harder now, blurring the streetlights into streaks of gold and crimson across the windshield. His mind raced through every interaction, every quiet dinner, every time Celeste had looked at him with those dry, exhausted eyes over the past seven months. She hadn't just packed a light suitcase and walked out; she had been building an exit strategy while living under his very roof, utilizing his own financial accounts and his own cryptographic keys to fund a life he knew nothing about.
When he pulled up to the private obstetrics clinic on Michigan Avenue, the rain was drumming a frantic rhythm against the roof.
He killed the engine, pushed open the door, and strode through the glass automatic doors into the sterile, quiet lobby of the clinic. The receptionist looked up from her computer, blinking in surprise at the soaked, imposing figure standing before her.
“I’m looking for Celeste Vascari,” Roman said, his voice flat and dangerous. “She was admitted under her maiden name or married name this morning.”
The receptionist’s fingers flew across her keyboard, her expression shifting from polite to deeply unnerved as she checked the database. “Sir, patient privacy laws—es—”
“Look at the screen,” Roman growled, slamming his badge case down on the counter—not a police badge, but the heavy gold-embossed seal of the Vascari Foundation that commanded obedience across half the state.
The receptionist swallowed hard, turning her monitor slightly. “Room 412. But Mr. Vascari... you should know—you have a visitor already with her.”
Roman didn't wait for another word. He turned on his heel, ignoring the elevators, and took the stairwell two steps at a time until he reached the fourth floor.
The hallway was dead silent. He walked down the linoleum corridor until he saw the brass numbers 412 glinting under the fluorescent lights. The door was cracked open an inch.
May you like
Inside, he heard Celeste’s voice—not cold and level like it was when she left the penthouse, but soft, melodic, and filled with a warmth he hadn't heard in years.
And then he heard a man’s voice reply, rich and familiar, calling her by a name he had never been allowed to use.
