CHAPTER 212 Heart Attack
*Joy*
The estate’s lawn was cast with shadows, the grass moist with dew and the weight of unspoken betrayals. Lorenzo lay sprawled, his breaths shallow, face waxen and etched with pain. Cristos, Xavier, Lisa, and Dan crept closer to his crumpled form, their footsteps hushed, as if the ground might betray them.
Liam and Link stood frozen, their eyes locked on Lorenzo’s twitching form. I could read their thoughts as clearly as if they’d spoken aloud—Lorenzo deserved this, and they’d let him rot if they could. But I couldn’t afford suspicion falling on us. Not now, not when every move was a step toward a larger war. I had to act, and I had to do it fast.
I rolled up the documents in my hand, sliding the metal clip of the pen to secure them, and tucked them under my arm. “Call 911!” My voice cracked like a whip through the silence, raw with feigned panic as I dropped to my knees beside Lorenzo. “He’s having a heart attack—someone get help, now!”
Lisa fumbled with her phone, her hands trembling. “I’m trying, Virtue, but the signal’s garbage out here. It’s not connecting.” That was an outright lie. My brow furrowed, utterly confused. Lorenzo was her blood relative. *Why on earth would she want him to die*?
“Forget it,” Liam snapped, finally jolting into action as he dropped to one knee beside me, his fingers pressing hard against Lorenzo’s neck, hunting for a pulse. His face was a cold, unyielding mask, but a flicker of relief flashed in his eyes, gone as quickly as it came. “911’s too slow. Twenty minutes out here, and he’s a corpse.” He snatched the deed lying beside Lorenzo’s twitching hand, folding it into his coat with a swift, practiced motion, as if claiming a prize. “He’s got a pulse—barely. My men will get him to the hospital faster than any ambulance.”
“You sure about that, Liam?” Xavier’s voice was low, skeptical, his eyes narrowing as he watched Liam pocket the deed. “That’s a hell of a gamble."
Liam’s smile was a razor, thin and dangerous. “You want to stand here debating, Bo, or you want him alive? I have several cars on standby. We either move him or lose him.”
Before Xavier could argue, Jack and Kiki burst from the reception area, drawn by my scream. Kiki clutched a white tablecloth, its stark purity a mockery against the creeping dusk. She knelt beside Lorenzo, her fingers swift and clinical as she checked his pulse, her breath catching at the faint, erratic thump. “Liam, get the damn car—now,” she said, her voice steel, slicing through the crowd’s anxious murmurs. She turned to us, her eyes sharp and serious. “We’re using this cloth as a stretcher. Link, Jack, take his legs. Chip, Bo, grab his shoulders. I’ll hold his head. We move on my count.”
“Kiki, do you think that's a good idea?” Dan asked, his voice tight, hands hovering uselessly. “Moving him could screw this up worse.”
“We don’t have time for your second-guessing, Dan, and you heard Liam. By the time the ambulance gets here, it'll be too late,” Kiki shot back, her tone sharp enough to cut. “He’s fading fast. We move now, or he’s gone. On three. One, two, *three*.”
We moved as one, sliding Lorenzo’s limp body onto the cloth. His lips were tinged blue, a man teetering on the edge of oblivion, his chest barely rising. The men gripped the corners, hoisting him with Kiki cradling his head, her fingers steady despite the tremor in her jaw. Liam’s SUV idled nearby, its rear open, seats flattened to accommodate Lorenzo. The driver didn’t wait for goodbyes—the engine roared, and the SUV sped off out through the gates to the hospital.
Liam clapped his hands, his smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Show’s over, folks. Back to the garden. Reception’s waiting.” The crowd shuffled, their whispers a low hum of unease, like insects skittering in the dark.
I grabbed Kiki’s arm, my voice a low hiss. “Your dress—it’s ruined. There are grass stains all over it. You look like you’ve been rolling in the dirt.”
Kiki glanced down, her lips curling into a faint, bitter smirk. “Awww. Your wedding gown is ruined too. Vera Wang will not be pleased you ruined one of her masterpieces."
I giggled. "Call it abstract art." I turned, my voice softening to a dangerous lilt. “Liam, sweetie,” I called as he dragged Dan away, Jack trailing close behind them. “Kiki and I need to change. Our gowns are ruined."
He paused, his grip on Dan tightening, his eyes flicking back to me with a chilling edge. I suspected he was warning Dan not to tell Doña Veronica of Lorenzo's condition. “Fifteen minutes, darling. Don’t keep me waiting. We have a schedule to keep, and I don’t like delays.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “We won’t be long,” I said, forcing a smile. I linked arms with Kiki and pulled her toward the estate’s shadowed halls.
In our room, I shed my ruined gown like snakeskin, my mind racing. “Dina, where the hell is Sebastian?” I asked, my voice low and urgent as I slipped into an emerald-green dress, its hem lined with GPS strips sewn into the fabric.
“Randall’s wife just had her baby,” Dina’s voice crackled through the comms, sharp and clipped. “The deal was she delivers safely before he gives us the location to the lab. Domenico’s gone to get the information before they make a run for it.”
I nodded, adjusting my dress, my fingers brushing the holster hidden beneath. “The woman in black, weaing a cocktail hat, posing as a guest. Is she still on the grounds?”
Dina’s keyboard clattered, a insistent percussion in my ear. “Checking the feeds… Nope, she’s gone. Rewind shows her slipping into a black SUV right before Lorenzo dropped. Smooth exit, like she knew every blind spot in the cameras.”
My jaw tightened, a cold knot forming in my gut. “Wedding area footage. Did she get anywhere near Lorenzo while we were with Link and the group?”
“Sorry, Mis JT,” Dina said, frustration seeping into her tone. “No eyes there. Just the reception cams. Primo stashed a few in the roses, but the wedding area’s a black hole. No footage, no answers.”
"Can you track that SUV?" I asked.
"Unfortunately, it’ll take some time," she replied. "They’ve got a head start, and the plates are registered to a rental company."
“Damn it.” I tore off my veil, tossing it onto the bed like a white flag of surrender. “I’d bet my life she slipped him something—poison, maybe through a syringe. This wasn’t a heart attack.”
Kiki zipped up her own black gown, her movements sharp, predatory. “This is bad, V. Lorenzo’s not just some grunt—he’s a high-ranking member. The Angels will be here by dawn if he doesn’t pull through. If we don’t finish this tonight, they’ll roll in, take over, and we’re done. Sidelined, if we’re lucky. Dead, if we’re not.”
“We’ll finish this. We’ve come too far to let the Angels steal my glory," I said, my voice a vow etched in stone.
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