Chapter 4

Those stalkers knew I'd come this way.

I didn't hesitate. I headed straight for room 1208.

When I opened the door, Clara was struggling to sit up in bed. The instant she saw Nina on my back, her tears fell all at once.

"Mom!" Nina called out.

She slid down from my back and ran to the bedside, holding up her drawing.

"Mom, look! I drew our home. Once you get better, we can go home together," Nina said.

Clara pulled Nina into her arms, resting her chin on Nina's head, her tears falling silently.

I stood at the door, keeping quiet.

After a moment, Clara looked up at me and quietly mouthed "Thanks."

I nodded, walked over to the window, and glanced down.

Out front, four black SUVs were parked by the hospital entrance. Seven or eight guys in black suits stood around, smoking and shooting the breeze.

There were two guys stationed at each end of the twelfth-floor hallway.

Two by the elevator, two more at the fire escape.

Counting the three Ethan took with him, that made at least fifteen Zane family men in the hospital right now.

This was just the first wave.

If Clara didn't agree to the surgery by noon tomorrow, there'd be even more of them.

I had to be ready before noon tomorrow.

"Ms. Lynn." I turned around.

Clara was wiping away Nina's tears. When she heard my voice, she looked up.

"Why is Harlan so fixated on your bone marrow? Out of everyone in the country, isn't there anyone else who matches?" I asked.

Clara paused for a moment.

"There are others, but I'm the one with the highest compatibility," she said.

She hesitated for a second before adding, "Because Shawn is Nina's half-brother—they share the same father."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Clara lowered her gaze, holding Nina close, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Nina's father is Harlan's youngest son, Merrill Zane."

That revelation turned the whole situation upside down.

"Where's Merrill?" I asked.

"He's dead," Clara said, her voice flat. "He died in a car accident two years ago."

"So Nina's got Zane blood," I said.

"Yeah. But Harlan won't admit it," Clara replied, her lips twitching with a hint of bitterness. "When Merrill was alive, Harlan never let us be together.

"He always thought I wasn't good enough for his family. After Merrill died, there's no way he'd ever acknowledge Nina as his granddaughter."

"Then why does he want your bone marrow?" I asked.

"Because Shawn is the only son from the Zane family's main line—Harlan's pride and joy," Clara said, her eyes turning cold. "To him, Nina and I together aren't worth even a hair of Shawn."

"So he wants your bone marrow—and your daughter too?" I asked, disbelief in my voice.

"Nina's bone marrow matches as well," Clara said, clutching her daughter even tighter. "If mine isn't enough, they'll target her next."

"A five-year-old," I muttered.

"Yeah. Just a five-year-old," Clara whispered.

For a few seconds, the room was swallowed by silence.

Nina had no idea what the adults were talking about. She was snuggled up in her mom's arms, clutching her drawing, already half-asleep.

I took it all in, my brain working overtime.

Harlan, Riverveil's richest man, with over two hundred men in his private army.

Me, just a delivery guy.

I didn't seem to stand a chance.

But it was the stuff one couldn't see on paper that really made or broke a fight.

"Ms. Lynn, I need to ask you something," I said.

"Ask away," she replied.

"Who's in charge of Harlan's private army?" I asked.

"Blake Bell. Used to be a mercenary, spent some time running around abroad. Harlan shelled out big bucks to get him on board."

"Did his crew come back with him from abroad, or did he hire them here?" I asked.

Clara paused, lost in thought.

"About a dozen of his main guys are the ones he brought over. The rest are local vets and tough guys he recruited around here," she said.

"What else does Harlan have going for him besides Blake?" I asked.

"He's got deep ties with several local agencies," Clara said, her voice dropping even lower. "I can't say exactly who, but back when Merrill was alive, he told me his father could get just about anything done in this city."

I nodded.

"One last question," I said.

"What is it?" Clara asked.

"Was Merrill's car accident really just an accident?"

Clara stiffened.

She didn't say a word, but her eyes told me everything I needed to know.

It wasn't an accident.

"You think Harlan had something to do with it," I said.