Chapter 6 - THE SHADOW IN THE INFIRMARY
The echo of Alejandro’s gunfire shattered the heavy silence of the stairwell as two warning shots struck the stone wall below. The shadowy figure vanished into the labyrinth of service corridors.
Within minutes, the estate’s private medical team stabilized Elena. She was unconscious, her left leg fractured in two places and severe bruising covering her body, but she was alive. They transferred her to the mansion’s high-tech private infirmary on the east wing.
Emma sat on a small chair beside her mother’s hospital bed, holding Elena’s limp, pale hand. Her small body trembled with exhaustion, but her eyes remained wide open, refusing to close.
Alejandro stood near the doorway, flanked by four heavily armed guards. He looked down at the little girl, his hand resting instinctively near the holster at his waist.
"She will survive, Emma," Alejandro said softly, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic warmth. "My doctors are the best in the country."
"Why does someone want to hurt Mama?" Emma whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "Mama never hurt anyone. She only cleans and makes soup."
Alejandro’s eyes darkened. "Because in this house, weakness is exploited, and innocence is seen as a threat. But I promised you—no one touches either of you again."
Late into the night, the mansion fell under an uneasy quiet. The guards outside the infirmary rotated shifts. Taking advantage of a brief two-minute gap during the guard change, a tall figure clad in full medical scrubs stepped silently into the darkened room.
The figure pulled a large syringe filled with a clear, deadly air bubble from their pocket, approaching Elena’s intravenous drip line.
Emma, who had been hiding under the bed sheets, heard the faint rustle of fabric. She peeked out and saw the gloved hand reaching for her mother’s IV tube.
"GET AWAY FROM MY MAMA!" Emma shrieked at the top of her lungs.
She grabbed a heavy glass water pitcher from the bedside table and threw it with all her strength. The pitcher shattered against the attacker's chest, soaking their scrubs and knocking them off balance.
The intruder hissed in panic, lunging toward Emma to quiet her. But Emma’s scream had already triggered the silent alarm under the bed.
The infirmary doors burst open. Alejandro charged in, pistol raised. Without hesitation, he fired a single round, striking the intruder in the shoulder. The masked figure slammed against the wall, dropping the syringe.
Vargas rushed in, ripping off the attacker’s surgical mask.
Alejandro’s jaw tightened in cold anger. The man bleeding on the floor was the very guard who had threatened Emma in the study during Chapter 2.
"Who paid you?" Alejandro demanded, stepping on the guard's wounded shoulder. "Talk!"
The guard spat blood onto the floor, a twisted, fanatic smile spreading across his face. "You’re already dead, Moretti... you just don't know it yet."
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Before Vargas could pry his jaws apart, the guard violently bit down on a hidden cyanide capsule embedded in his molar. His eyes rolled back, and his body went rigid. Within ten seconds, he was dead.
Emma buried her face in Alejandro’s coat, shaking uncontrollably. Alejandro wrapped his arm around the child, his eyes fixed on the dead guard. The assassin’s dying words chilled him to the bone.
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