THE MAFIA BOSS SAW HIS FIANCÉE WEARING THE BROOCH HIS DEAD MOTHER WAS BURIED WITH—THEN THE WAITRESS WHISPERED, “SIR, THAT CLASP WAS OPENED YESTERDAY.” / Chapter 9 / 15

Chapter 9 - The Broken Syndicate TreatyAt 2:30 PM, the town car pulled up to the private entrance of the Presbyterian Hospital in Queens.

We rode the executive elevator up to the ninth floor, where the specialized hematology and orthopedic surgery suites were located.

The floor was quiet, peaceful, and staffed by the top surgical specialists in the state.

Dr. Julian Vance, the chief of pediatric hematology, met us in the consultation lounge, holding a digital tablet with diagnostic panels.

“Mr. DeLuca, Miss Bennett,” Dr. Vance greeted us with a warm, respectful bow. “The bone marrow donor match for your brother Toby was confirmed three hours ago from the international registry in Munich. The donor cells have already cleared customs at JFK.”

My heart leaped into my throat. “A perfect match?”

“A ten-out-of-ten HLA match, Miss Bennett,” the doctor beamed. “We have scheduled the preparatory conditioning for Monday morning. And the reconstructive orthopedic surgery on his hip will be performed by Dr. Rossi as soon as his marrow engrafts. His prognosis is exceptional. We expect a complete, permanent recovery within six months.”

I buried my face in my hands, weeping with a mixture of overwhelming relief, joy, and gratitude that washed through every fiber of my being.

Adrian wrapped his strong arm around my shoulders, pulling me firmly against his chest, letting me lean my forehead against the soft cashmere of his coat.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Adrian said, his deep voice thick with emotion. “Ensure the boy has the finest private suite on the floor. Everything is covered under the DeLuca Foundation account.”

We walked down the sunlit corridor to Suite 912.

The room was spacious, filled with flowers, a large television, and a window overlooking the Manhattan skyline.

Lying in the center of the bed, propped up against fluffy white pillows, holding a video game controller, was my seventeen-year-old brother, Toby.

His pale face was thin, his brown hair messy, but his eyes were bright and full of life.

When the door opened, he turned his head.

“Claire!”

I broke into a run, throwing my arms around my little brother, kissing his forehead over and over again while tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Toby... oh, Toby, you’re going to get better,” I sobbed, holding his frail shoulders. “The doctors found a match! You’re going to have your surgery!”

Toby hugged me back tightly, laughing through his own tears.

“I know, Claire! The doctor told me an hour ago! He said some billionaire bought the hospital wing and flew the medicine in from Germany!”

Then Toby looked up and saw Adrian DeLuca standing in the doorway.

Adrian had removed his overcoat, holding a brand-new laptop and a signed baseball from the New York Yankees.

He stopped beside the bed, towering over the room, but the terrifying mafia kingpin was completely gone.

Standing before us was a man whose eyes were filled with profound, breathtaking gentleness.

“Good afternoon, Toby,” Adrian said softly, extending his hand.

Toby stared at the giant in awe, taking his hand with a firm, adolescent grip.

“Are you the billionaire who bought the hospital?”

A deep, warm chuckle broke from Adrian’s chest.

“My name is Adrian,” he replied, pulling a leather chair beside the bed and sitting down so his eyes were level with the boy’s. “I’m your sister’s friend. And starting today, you never have to worry about hospital bills, medicine, or rent ever again.”

Toby looked at the signed baseball, then at his sister’s radiant face, and finally into Adrian’s kind, honest eyes.