Chapter 1 - The Trapped Sanctuary
The sound of the heavy oak door clicking shut was like a hammer hitting a nail,
sealing us inside a room that was supposed to be a fortress of protection,
but had suddenly become a glass-walled tomb.
I kept my gun leveled at the door,
my eyes darting between the shadow moving in the hallway and the woman who held my son’s life in her hands.
Hunter Higgins did not flinch,
her body anchored by the weight of the small,
warm miracle she held against her chest.
“Mr. Rossi,”
she whispered,
her voice trembling not with fear for herself,
but for the fragile creature now breathing rhythmically in her arms.
“Look at the nurse,
please,
look at what is in that glass.”
I shifted my gaze to the woman slumped in the chair,
the night nurse I had hired from the most prestigious agency in the country.
Beside her,
a glass of red wine sat on the mahogany side table,
its surface reflecting the blue glow of the baby monitor.
I leaned down,
my nostrils flaring as I caught a scent that was too sharp,
too chemical to be just grapes and alcohol.
It was the bitter,
metallic tang of a high-grade sedative,
the kind used to knock out a full-grown man in seconds.
“She didn't just fall asleep,”
I muttered,
realizing that my house,
my rules,
and my security had been bypassed by someone within my own inner circle.
I looked back at Leo,
his tiny throat moving in a steady,
perfect rhythm,
the first sign of life I had seen in his eyes since we left the hospital.
The monitor showed a steady heartbeat,
a green line that was finally rising out of the valley of death.
“He’s eating,”
I whispered,
the gun in my hand suddenly feeling like a heavy,
useless piece of iron.
I tucked the weapon into my waistband,
my fingers brushing against the cold steel as I stepped closer to the maid.
She was pale,
her eyes red from her own secret grief,
yet she was the only thing standing between my son and the grave.
“Why did you come in here,
Hunter?”
I asked,
my voice dropping to a low rumble that vibrated through the silent room.
“I heard him,”
she said,
a tear finally spilling over and landing on Leo’s velvet skin.
“I’ve heard him every night for two weeks,
but tonight,
he didn't sound hungry,
he sounded like he was giving up.”
“I lost my daughter,
Mr. Rossi,
I know what it sounds like when the light starts to go out.”
A heavy thud echoed from the other side of the nursery door,
followed by the sound of a metal bar being slid into place.
Whoever was out there didn't want to kill me yet;
they wanted us to stay exactly where we were.
The nursery was built to be bulletproof and airtight,
designed to protect a baby from a world that hated his father.
But now,
it was a cage,
and the air vent above us hissed as it was suddenly shut off.
“They’re going to suffocate us,”
Hunter said,
her grip tightening on my son as she looked up at the ceiling.
“No,”
I replied,
my mind shifting from the grief of a husband to the cold calculation of a man who ruled an empire.
“They’re going to try,
but they forgot one thing about this room.”
“I didn't just build it to keep people out;
I built it so I would never be trapped.”
I walked toward the hidden panel behind the changing table,
my eyes fixed on the woman who was currently giving my son the only chance he had to see tomorrow.
“Keep feeding him,”
May you like
I commanded,
“and don’t stop until I tell you it’s safe to breathe.”
