Chapter 12 - blood on velvet
The private medical suite on the third floor of the Moretti estate was bathed in warm, amber light. High above the noisy streets of downtown Chicago, the estate was a fortress of reinforced concrete, high walls, and armed guards patrolling every entry point. Dr. Rossi, the family’s private surgeon, had just finished adjusting Sarah’s intravenous lines, stepping out into the oak-paneled corridor where Nathan stood leaning against the wall, staring out into the foggy darkness of the courtyard.
"She suffers from advanced pulmonary tuberculosis brought on by years of severe malnutrition and damp living conditions," Dr. Rossi said, wiping his gold-rimmed spectacles with a handkerchief. "Five more months in that tenement, Nathan, and her lungs would have completely collapsed. But with heavy antibiotics, proper rest, and specialized care, she will survive. The girl, however, is remarkably healthy, despite severe nutritional deficiencies and chronic skin abrasions on her hands."
Nathan nodded once, his eyes fixed on the rain streaming down the glass paneling. "Keep three nurses in her room twenty-four hours a day. Nobody enters this floor without my personal clearance."
Dr. Rossi hesitated, looking down at his clipboard before speaking in a hushed tone. "Nathan... the child's blood work came back from our private lab an hour ago. Her human leukocyte antigens are a ninety-nine percent match to your own genetic markers. She is your daughter."
Nathan didn't blink. He had known the moment he saw her holding out three crumpled one-dollar bills in that cold hallway, her brown eyes carrying the exact shade of his mother's eyes. He turned away from the doctor and pushed open the heavy mahogany doors leading into the master guest suite.
Sarah was asleep, her breathing deep and even for the first time in years, aided by oxygen therapy. On the small velvet armchair beside the bed sat Lily, wearing a clean white cotton nightgown that was far too big for her fragile frame. She was clutching a soft wool blanket against her nose, watching the doorway with wide, watchful eyes.
Nathan walked across the room and sat down on the velvet stool near the edge of the bed. He pulled the thick parchment envelope from his jacket pocket and laid it on his knee. Beside it, he set the tarnished brass key they had recovered from the sewing machine base.
"Lily," Nathan said softly, pointing to the brass key. "Do you know what this key opens?"
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The little girl slid down from the armchair and walked over to him, her bare feet making no sound on the thick oriental rug. She reached out and touched the brass bow with her small index finger. "Mom told me it opens the big iron box under the river floorboards. She said when I turned eight, I had to take the train to the old textile mill and give the key to the man with the silver rose."
Nathan took a deep, steadying breath. The old textile mill on the Chicago River was the original warehouse where his grandfather had started the family business seventy years ago. It had been abandoned since his mother's death thirty years ago, locked under legal disputes between the syndicate elders. Domenico had claimed the building was empty, but Nathan now realized his uncle had been searching for something hidden inside those walls for three decades.
