Chapter 8 - The Desperate Save
Hannah rushed to Eleanor’s side, immediately dropping into her professional medical zone.
"Dominic, I need the emergency medical kit from the cabin right now!" Hannah ordered sharply.
Dominic didn't hesitate; he tore the cabin apart until he found the heavy red plastic box and tossed it to her.
Hannah ripped it open, her experienced eyes scanning the basic supplies.
"Her heart rate is completely erratic, and she is going into atrial fibrillation," Hannah diagnosed rapidly.
"If I don't stabilize the rhythm in the next three minutes, she will die."
Dominic knelt beside his mother, holding her fragile hand tightly, his stoic facade finally cracking.
"Save her, Hannah. Please," Dominic begged, raw emotion bleeding into his voice.
Hannah found a pre-filled syringe of Amiodarone in the kit, a powerful antiarrhythmic drug.
"I need to inject this directly into a major vein, but the boat is rocking too violently," Hannah said, her hands shaking slightly from the cold.
"I will hold her perfectly still," Dominic promised, using his massive strength to brace his mother's shoulders against his chest.
Hannah took a deep breath, blocking out the sound of the freezing wind and the sputtering engine.
She focused entirely on the small, fragile vein in Eleanor’s arm.
With absolute, flawless precision, she slid the needle in and slowly pushed the life-saving medication into the bloodstream.
They sat in agonizing silence for two terrifying minutes, watching Eleanor’s pale face.
Slowly, the color began to return to the older woman's cheeks, and her breathing steadied into a normal rhythm.
Eleanor opened her eyes, looking up at the young surgeon who had just saved her life for the third time in twenty-four hours.
"You are definitely getting a raise, dear," Eleanor whispered weakly, offering a tiny, exhausted smile.
Dominic let out a shuddering breath of pure relief, pulling his mother gently into his arms.
He looked over at Hannah, his dark eyes filled with absolute, overwhelming gratitude and something much deeper.
"Thank you," Dominic said softly, the words carrying the weight of a thousand debts.
Hannah simply nodded, packing the medical kit away with trembling hands.
The small tugboat finally scraped against a deserted, rocky shoreline miles away from the city lights.
Dominic carried his mother onto the dark beach, and Hannah helped the wounded captain, Sal, limp onto the sand.
They were completely exhausted, freezing, and entirely cut off from the Moretti empire.
"We need a safe place to hide until I can contact my remaining loyal men," Dominic said, looking around the desolate area.
Hannah looked down at her scuffed shoes, a sudden realization hitting her.
"I know a place," Hannah offered quietly. "But you are not going to like it."
"Right now, I would gladly hide in a sewer," Dominic replied grimly.
"It is worse than a sewer," Hannah said, her voice filled with deep shame. "It is my old apartment in the slums."
Two hours later, they arrived at a dilapidated, run-down apartment building in the worst neighborhood in Chicago.
Hannah unlocked the door to a tiny, freezing, one-room apartment with peeling wallpaper and a single mattress on the floor.
Dominic carefully laid his mother on the bed, covering her with a thin, worn blanket.
He turned and looked around the miserable, cramped space where Hannah had been living for a year.
"Arthur Sterling forced you to live like this?" Dominic asked, his voice thick with cold, rising fury.
"He took everything," Hannah confirmed softly, staring out the cracked window.
Dominic stepped behind her, wrapping his strong arms securely around her waist and pulling her back against his chest.
"He didn't take your brilliance, and he didn't take your courage," Dominic murmured against her ear.
"I am going to get your entire life back for you, Hannah."
Before Hannah could lean into his comforting embrace, the cheap wooden door of the apartment suddenly exploded inward.
Four armed men stepped into the tiny room, but they weren't wearing the tactical gear of Walter's mercenaries.
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They were wearing dark, expensive suits, and leading them was a man Dominic recognized instantly.
It was Victor Sterling, Arthur’s ruthless younger brother, and he held a massive shotgun pointed directly at Hannah.
