Chapter 35 The Witness
Dante's POV
Dante's car ate up the distance to Sant'Angelo Hospital in eight minutes flat. Rocco sat in the passenger seat, phone pressed to his ear, coordinating their team.
"Marco's pulling Marchetti family intel now," Rocco said, hanging up. "You sure it's them?"
"Antonio Marchetti. Gunshot wound to the chest three weeks ago. Disappeared from family radar right after." Dante took a corner fast enough that tires protested. "Aria saved his life. Now someone wants her quiet."
"Shit." Rocco checked his weapon. "The Marchettis don't leave witnesses."
"I know."
His phone buzzed. Marco called back.
"Talk to me," Dante answered.
"Antonio Marchetti died two days ago at a private facility in Ostia. Official cause: complications from previous injury." Marco's voice was grim. "Unofficial words on the street? His own family finished what the bullet started."
Dante's hands tightened on the wheel. "Why?"
"He was talking about turning state's witness. Got scared after the hit, wanted protection." A pause. "If your doctor treated him, she might know who visited, what he said, who he was afraid of."
"She's the only witness left."
"Then she's already dead, boss. Just don't know it yet."
Dante disconnected, pushed the accelerator harder. The hospital came into view, its white towers stark against the morning sky.
Hold on, Aria. I'm coming.
Aria's POV
Aria's office felt smaller with each passing minute.
She sat at her desk, Antonio Marchetti's file open on her computer screen. Fake name Marco Rossi but she recognized the face. Mid-forties, scar bisecting his left eyebrow, serpent tattoo curling up his neck.
Terrified eyes. That's what she remembered most.
"They'll finish the job," he'd whispered after surgery, gripping her wrist hard enough to bruise. "Please. Don't tell anyone I was here."
She'd promised. Doctor-patient confidentiality.
Now she understood what job he'd meant.
Her desk phone rang. Internal line. She checked the caller ID surgical nursing station.
"Dr. Salvini."
"Aria, it's Gabriella." The head surgical nurse sounded strained. "Have you seen Nurse Matteo today? He didn't show up for his shift, and he's not answering his phone."
Ice slid down Aria's spine. "When did you last see him?"
"Yesterday. After your surgery with Mrs. Lombardi." Gabriella paused. "He mentioned something about grabbing coffee with you later. Did he—"
"I never made plans with Matteo." Aria's pulse hammered. "Gabriella, I need you to check something. The equipment from yesterday's surgery. The clamp that slipped. Is it still in sterilization?"
"Should be. Why?"
"Just check. Please."
Silence. Then: "Aria, what's going on? You sound scared."
"Just check the clamp. Call me back."
She hung up before Gabriella could ask more questions.
Matteo hadn't shown up for work. The same Matteo she'd told about Antonio Marchetti three weeks ago. The same Matteo who'd asked casual questions about the gunshot patient's condition, his visitors, what he'd said.
Oh God.
A knock at her door made her jump.
"Dr. Salvini?" Male voice. Unfamiliar. "I'm Officer Benedetti, hospital security. Mr. Moretti asked me to check on you."
Aria moved to the door but didn't open it. "Mr. Moretti didn't mention sending anyone."
"He called ahead. Said to keep you safe until he arrives." The handle turned. Locked, thank God. "Can you open the door, please?"
"Show me your ID. Slide it under."
Pause. Too long.
"Dr. Salvini, I don't have time for this. Open the door."
"No." Aria backed away, grabbed her phone. "Not until I verify with Dante."
The handle stopped turning. Footsteps retreated down the hall.
Aria dialed Dante with shaking hands.
He answered on the first ring. "Where are you?"
"My office. Someone just tried to get in, claiming you sent them." Words tumbled out. "Dante, Matteo's missing. He's the nurse I told about Antonio. And I think he told someone."
"Lock the door. Don't let anyone in until I get there." Engine noise roared in the background. "Two minutes. I'm two minutes away."
"Hurry."
She ended the call, moved her desk chair against the door as an extra barricade. Pulled up Antonio's file again, started photographing everything with her phone. Treatment notes, visitor log, discharge instructions.
Evidence. If something happened to her, someone needed to know.
Her phone buzzed. Text from Gabriella: The clamp's gone. Not in sterilization. Not anywhere. Aria, what the hell is happening?
Before she could answer, her office lights went out.
Emergency lighting kicked in, bathing everything in red. Then that died too.
Complete darkness.
Dante's POV
Dante hit the hospital entrance at a run, Rocco and three armed men behind him. The lobby erupted in chaos, security guards shouting, patients scattering, and a woman screaming.
"Sir, you can't—" A guard reached for Dante's arm.
Rocco's gun appeared. "He can."
They moved through the lobby like a knife through water, heading for the surgical wing. Dante knew this hospital's layout from his own stay. Knew exactly where Aria's office was.
Third floor. East wing. Corner office overlooking the courtyard.
The elevator was too slow. He took the stairs three at a time.
Behind him, Rocco barked orders into his phone. "Lock down all exits. No one leaves without clearance. I don't care if they're bleeding, no one moves."
Second floor landing. Dante's phone buzzed.
Marco: Power's been cut to the surgical wing. Someone's jamming security cameras. This is a hit, boss.
Third floor. The hallway stretched ahead, emergency lights casting everything in crimson.
Aria's office door was closed. No guard outside.
Dante's instincts screamed.
He reached for the handle. Locked. "Aria!"
Silence.
"Aria, it's me. Open up."
A scraping sound. The desk is being moved. Then the lock clicked and the door cracked open.
Aria stood there, phone clutched in one hand, the other braced against the doorframe. Alive. Whole. Scared but breathing.
Relief hit him hard enough to hurt.
"We need to leave," he said. "Now."
"My files—"
"Forget them."
"No." Steel in her voice. "Antonio told me things. About his family, about who shot him. It's all in my notes." She grabbed her laptop, shoved it in her bag. "If they kill me, this is the only evidence."
Dante wanted to argue. Wanted to throw her over his shoulder and run.
But she was right. Dead witnesses couldn't testify. But evidence could.
"Fine. Service elevator. Loading dock exit." He pulled her into the hallway. "Stay between me and Rocco. Don't stop for anything."
They moved fast, Dante in front, Rocco behind, the other men flanking. The hospital felt wrong, too quiet, too dark, like a building holding its breath.
The service elevator waited at the end of the hall. Dante hit the button.
Nothing.
"Stairs," Rocco said. "Go."
They pivoted toward the stairwell. Dante pushed through the door first, weapon drawn.
The first shooter was waiting on the landing below.
Dante fired twice. The man dropped.
"Go go go!" Rocco shoved Aria down the stairs, returning fire as more shooters appeared above.
They made it to the basement level before the ambush tightened. Four men, maybe five, blocking the loading dock exit. Professional positions, coordinated fire.
Marchetti soldiers.
"Back!" Dante dragged Aria behind a concrete pillar as bullets chewed into the wall where her head had been. "Rocco, the morgue. Northwest corner."
They ran. Gunfire echoed through the basement, deafening in the enclosed space. Aria stumbled, and Dante caught her, kept her moving.
The morgue door was steel, reinforced. He shouldered through, pulled Aria inside, slammed it shut.
"Dante—" She was breathing hard, eyes wide. "They're going to—"
"I know." He scanned the room. Examination tables. Refrigerated drawers. One small window, too high to reach. No other exits.
A trap.
Rocco appeared at the door, breathing hard. "Lost them in the corridors, but they'll find us. We're sitting ducks in here."
"How many?"
"Six, maybe eight. Professional crew." Rocco reloaded. "This wasn't thrown together. They've been planning this."
Dante looked at Aria, her face pale in the fluorescent light. She was thinking, processing, and the surgeon's mind working through the problem.
"There's a service tunnel," she said suddenly. "Connects to the old wing. For transporting bodies without disturbing patients." She moved to the back wall, started pulling away equipment. "Here. Behind these cabinets."
Together they shoved the cabinets aside. Sure enough, a narrow door appeared, marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
"Smart woman," Rocco muttered.
Dante pulled the door open. A dark corridor stretched beyond, barely wide enough for two people side by side.
Voices echoed from the morgue entrance. The Marchettis had found them.
"Go," Dante ordered. "I'll cover the rear."
They moved into the tunnel, Aria in front with Rocco, Dante bringing up the back. The door closed behind them just as the morgue entrance burst open.
The tunnel was pitch black. They moved by feel, Aria's hand on the wall, guiding them forward.
"There's a colleague," she whispered. "Dr. Petrova. She's on shift today. I told her about Antonio too."
"Call her," Dante said. "Warn her."
Aria dialed, phone screen providing the only light. The call rang. And rang.
No answer.
"Try again."
She did. Same result.
A bad feeling settled in Dante's gut.
They reached the end of the tunnel. An access ladder led up to street level. Rocco went first, then Aria, then Dante.
They emerged in an alley behind the hospital's old wing. Dante's car waited three blocks away.
"Run," he said.
They ran.
Behind them, shouts. The Marchettis had found the tunnel.
They made it to the car. Dante shoved Aria into the back seat, Rocco jumped in front, and they were moving before doors fully closed.
"Where—" Aria started.
"Safe house. Outside the city." Dante checked the rearview. No pursuit. Yet. "You're not going back to your apartment. Not the hospital. Nowhere they expect."
"Dr. Petrova. We have to—"
"Rocco, send someone to check on this doctor." Dante met Aria's eyes in the mirror. "What's her full name?"
"Yelena Petrova. Surgical resident. She worked on Antonio's case with me." Aria's hands twisted in her lap. "She asked about his visitors. I told her everything."
Rocco made the call. Waited. His expression darkened.
"Boss. Petrova was found dead in the hospital parking garage twenty minutes ago. Single gunshot. Made to look like a robbery."
Aria made a sound like she'd been punched.
Dante reached back, caught her hand. "I'm sorry."
"She had a daughter. Eight years old." Aria's voice broke. "She was going to be a surgeon. And now she's dead because I told her about a patient."
"She's dead because the Marchettis don't leave witnesses." Dante squeezed her hand. "None of this is your fault."
But Aria had pulled away, staring at her phone. At something she'd photographed from Antonio's file.
"Antonio told me who shot him," she said quietly. "Before he died. I thought he was delirious, so I didn't write it down officially. But I remembered."
"Who?"
"His brother. Luca Marchetti." She looked up, eyes haunted. "He said Luca was going to kill their father. Take over the family. And Antonio was going to testify against him."
The pieces clicked together. Antonio is planning to talk. His own brother silenced him. Now erasing everyone who knew.
Dante's phone rang. Unknown number.
His instincts screamed not to answer. He answered anyway.
"Moretti." The voice was smooth, educated. "You have something that belongs to us."
"Who is this?"
"Luca Marchetti. I believe you're acquainted with my late brother." A pause. "And I believe you're currently protecting a doctor. Dr. Salvini. The last person who can connect me to Antonio's death."
Dante's blood went cold.
"Here's my offer," Luca continued. "The doctor for safe passage out of Rome. You hand her over, my family leaves yours alone. You get to keep your empire. Everyone wins."
"Except Aria."
"Except the witness, yes. But surely one life isn't worth starting a war." Luca's voice hardened. "You have one hour to decide. After that, I stop asking nicely."
The line went dead.
Aria stared at Dante, understanding dawning in her eyes.
"He wants me," she whispered. "And you have to choose."
Dante met her gaze in the rearview mirror.
"There's no choice," he said. "There's only keeping you alive."
But even as he said it, his phone buzzed again.
Marco: Marchetti soldiers mobilizing across the city. They're coming for you, boss. All of you.
The war had already begun.