Chapter 2 - The Doctor's Sanctuary
The back door of Valente opened into a narrow, brick-lined alley wet with Boston rain.
Elias carried Adeline himself.
He did not let any of his bodyguards assist him, wrapping her fragile, shuddering frame in his heavy black wool coat. The scent of leather, rain, and faint cedar enveloped her, comforting her battered senses as he placed her into the leather interior of a black Maybach.
Fifteen minutes later, the car turned down a secluded private driveway in Beacon Hill, stopping before a majestic brick townhouse behind high iron gates.
Inside, the grand library had been transformed into a temporary medical suite.
Dr. Miriam Vance, a sharp-eyed woman in her late fifties who had served as the Baron family’s discreet physician for twenty years, was waiting with a tray of sterile instruments and diagnostic gear.
"Set her on the exam couch," Miriam instructed, snapping on latex gloves. "Clear the room, Elias."
"I am staying," Elias said, his voice flat, undisputed.
Miriam sighed, knowing better than to argue. She carefully unbuttoned the remains of Addie's purple server shirt, cutting away the torn fabric.
As the light from the floor lamps hit Addie's chest and shoulders, even Miriam drew a sharp, audible breath.
Dark, ugly purple-black contusions covered Addie's collarbone, ribcage, and upper abdomen. The bruising was layered—some fresh and swollen, some fading into sickly greenish-yellow from weeks prior.
"This isn't an accident," Miriam whispered, gently palpating Addie's ribs. "This is systematic violence. Someone has been striking her repeatedly with a dull, heavy object... like a heavy stick or a brass rod."
Elias stood near the fireplace, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the marble mantlepiece. "Is anything broken?"
"Two cracked ribs on her right side," Miriam stated, applying a cooling local anesthetic salve before wrapping her torso in tight elastic bandages. "Severe subcutaneous hemorrhaging. She’s malnourished, dehydrated, and suffering from acute nervous exhaustion."
Addie stirred, groaning softly as the pain medication took hold. Her eyes fluttered open, panic instantly flooding her face as she looked around the grand, book-lined room.
"Where... where am I?" she gasped, clutching the blanket to her chest. "Charlotte... I have to pick up Charlotte from her late shift at the library..."
"Your sister is safe," Elias said, stepping into her line of sight. His voice softened as he knelt beside the couch. "My men picked her up from Northeastern ten minutes ago. She is currently in the guest room upstairs, drinking tea."
Addie stared at him, tears brimming in her hazel eyes. "Why are you doing this, Mr. Baron? I'm nobody to you."
"You fell in my presence, Miss Prescott," Elias said quietly. "In my world, when someone collapses at my feet, I am responsible for what caused it." He leaned in closer, his dark eyes locking onto hers with unwavering intensity. "Who did this to you?"
Addie bit her lower lip, trembling violently. "If I tell you... he'll kill Charlotte. He told me if I ever spoke a word, he'd make sure she never finished her degree."
"No one is touching your sister," Elias vowed, his voice carrying the absolute weight of an iron vault. "Name him."
Addie swallowed hard, choking back a sob. "Dominic... Dominic Vane."
Elias froze.
The air in the library turned instantly sub-zero.
Dominic Vane was Elias’s own cousin—the chief financial officer of the Baron Empire’s real estate wing and the man who oversaw the collection of commercial debts across the North End.
"Why Dominic?" Elias asked, his tone dropping into a deadly whisper.
"It... it started three months ago," Addie stammered, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "My late father ran a small bookbinding shop on Salem Street. Before he died, he borrowed fifty thousand dollars from Baron Financial to keep the store open. After he passed, Dominic came to enforce the debt."
She paused, taking a shuddering breath.
"I tried to pay him back with my tips from Valente. But Dominic... he didn't just want the cash. He forced me to sign double receipts. He made me carry leather envelopes of cash to hidden safety deposit boxes across town. When I asked why the receipts had two different ledger numbers... he hit me."
May you like
Elias’s jaw tightened. "A double ledger."
"Yes," Addie whispered. "He's stealing millions from your family's accounts, Mr. Baron. And he was using my father's unpaid loan to cover his tracks... beating me every week to keep me quiet."
