Chapter 2 - Echoes in the Stairwell
The metallic tang of spilled water mingled with the sharp scent of shattered plastic as the younger man caught his breath. His knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of the ruined supply cart for support.
Stallone didn't flinch. He adjusted the lapel of his black jacket, his heavy frame blocking the only exit from the room.
"You think you can play God with a newborn child, boy?" Stallone’s voice was a low rumble, weathered by decades of hard miles and unyielding discipline. "Downstairs isn't going to save you from what's coming."
The younger man wiped a smear of dust from his cheek, forcing a jagged, desperate laugh that sounded more like a cough. "You're living in the past, old man. You don't know the first thing about the contracts signed in this hospital. That child was never supposed to leave this floor breathing. My father made sure of that."
From the doorway, the nurse who had taken the baby gasped, clutching the chart against her chest like a shield. She looked from the older man in the suit—who was now quietly dusting off his trousers near the window—to the defiant younger man bleeding against the cart.
"Mr. Vance," the nurse whispered, her voice trembling. "Dr. Vance is your father. He’s the chief of surgery."
The younger man—Jonathan Vance—shot the nurse a murderous glare that immediately silenced her. "Keep your mouth shut, or your medical license won't be worth the paper it’s printed on by morning."
Stallone stepped forward, his heavy leather shoes clicking rhythmically against the tile. "Threatening working people won't fix your sins, Jonathan. Your wife is recovering in the intensive care unit right now, heavily sedated. And you’re up here trying to trade her flesh and blood to settle a gambling debt with the syndicate."
Jonathan flinched, a micro-expression of pure panic flashing across his features before he slammed his emotional mask back into place. "You're hallucinating. Prove it. Show me a warrant."
"I don't need a warrant," Stallone said quietly, stopping just inches away. "I have the ledger your father left in the safe house."
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Jonathan’s face drained of all color, his lips parting in a silent gasp as the full weight of the revelation hit him like a physical blow.
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