Chapter 5 - The Night Damian Rose From the Wheelchair
The warehouse fire painted the river orange.
Damian stepped from the SUV before it stopped moving.
Carlo grabbed his arm.
“Cameras.”
Damian pulled free.
“Deal with them.”
“People will see.”
“Then they see.”
Smoke rolled from Warehouse Nine.
Fire crews had not yet arrived.
Russo security formed a perimeter.
A foreman ran toward Damian.
Then stopped dead.
His eyes fell to Damian’s legs.
“Boss?”
“Where is Hannah?”
The man kept staring.
“Where?”
“Second floor.”
Damian ran inside.
Behind him, someone whispered:
“He's walking.”
The lie was over.
Damian did not care.
Heat struck him immediately.
Sprinklers had failed.
Smoke filled the main floor.
Carlo followed.
“Stairs!”
They climbed.
“Hannah!”
No answer.
A beam collapsed somewhere nearby.
Damian ignored the pain in his ribs.
“Hannah!”
A cough.
Left side.
Storage office.
Damian kicked the door.
Locked.
Again.
Wood cracked.
Inside, Hannah crouched beneath a desk with another woman from accounting.
The second woman was semi-conscious.
Hannah stared at Damian.
Not because he was walking.
Because he had come.
“Get her.”
Damian lifted the woman.
Hannah stumbled.
He caught her.
“I’m fine.”
“You're coughing blood.”
“Smoke.”
“Move.”
They reached the stairs.
Outside, firefighters arrived.
Damian carried the unconscious employee clear.
Paramedics took her.
Then Hannah sat on the curb with oxygen.
Damian crouched in front of her.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
His hand touched her cheek.
Soot smeared beneath his thumb.
Hannah looked at him.
“You ruined your plan.”
“I know.”
“For me.”
“For two employees.”
She almost smiled.
“Liar.”
Before Damian could answer, flashes erupted.
Phones.
News crews.
Employees filming.
The world had just watched a supposedly paralyzed man sprint from a burning warehouse carrying a woman.
Carlo approached.
“Congratulations.”
Damian stood.
“For?”
“You're trending.”
Wonderful.
By midnight, every network in New York carried the footage.
MAFIA BOSS MIRACLE?
RUSSO WALKS AFTER PARALYSIS CLAIM.
QUESTIONS OVER FALSE MEDICAL REPORTS.
Damian's attorneys developed migraines.
Carlo developed creative profanity.
Vivien developed panic.
She called fourteen times.
Damian did not answer.
At 1:30 a.m., she stormed into his penthouse.
Damian was standing beside the bar.
Vivien stopped.
Her face went blank.
“You.”
Damian poured whiskey.
“Hello, Viv.”
“You can walk.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
Her shock transformed into rage.
“You humiliated me.”
Damian stared.
“I humiliated you?”
“You let me think—”
“That I was disabled?”
“Yes!”
“And somehow that made betrayal reasonable?”
Vivien froze.
Damian set down his glass.
“I heard your phone call.”
Her face drained.
“I speak Italian.”
“Damian—”
“I saw you with Bruno.”
Silence.
“You followed me?”
“No. Bruno is remarkably bad at secrecy.”
Vivien recovered quickly.
She always did.
“You don't understand.”
“People keep saying that.”
“Bruno approached me because somebody needed to protect your interests.”
“From me?”
“You were acting irrationally.”
“I was sitting.”
“You manipulated everyone.”
Damian stepped closer.
Vivien backed away despite herself.
“You tested me.”
“Yes.”
“That's sick.”
“Perhaps.”
For once, Damian accepted the accusation.
“But I never forced you to call Moretti.”
She said nothing.
“I never forced you to sleep with Bruno.”
Nothing.
“I never forced you to discuss stealing my father’s ledger.”
Her eyes widened.
There.
Confirmation.
Damian smiled without warmth.
“Thank you.”
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“I do now.”
She grabbed her purse.
“We are finished.”
“We were finished the moment you decided a wheelchair made me worthless.”
Her face tightened.
“I wanted a husband.”
“You wanted a throne with a husband attached.”
Vivien turned.
Hannah stood in the doorway.
She had returned from the hospital against orders.
A small bandage covered her forehead.
Vivien laughed.
“Of course.”
Hannah frowned.
“What?”
“This is about her.”
Damian's posture changed.
“Leave Hannah out of this.”
Vivien stared between them.
“You threw away an alliance between two families for a maid.”
“No.”
Damian's voice was quiet.
“You threw it away.”
Vivien approached Hannah.
“You think you're special because he carried you out of a fire?”
Hannah said nothing.
“You think he sees you as anything except staff?”
“Vivien.”
Damian’s warning was unmistakable.
But Hannah raised her hand.
“It's fine.”
She looked at Vivien.
“I don't think Mr. Russo owes me anything.”
Vivien smiled.
“There. At least one of you understands reality.”
Hannah continued.
“But I also didn't abandon him when I thought he couldn't walk.”
Vivien’s face twisted.
“You little—”
Damian stepped between them.
“Enough.”
He opened the door.
“Get out.”
Vivien stared.
Then threw the engagement ring onto the floor.
It bounced once.
Damian did not look down.
She left.
Hannah exhaled.
“That went well.”
Damian almost laughed.
Then she swayed.
He caught her.
“You're supposed to be in a hospital.”
“I hate hospitals.”
“Excellent. You're going back.”
“No.”
“Hannah.”
“Don't order me.”
“Fine.”
He lifted her.
She gasped.
“Damian!”
The first time she used his first name.
He noticed.
So did she.
“Put me down.”
“No.”
“I can walk.”
“So can I. Apparently everyone knows now.”
She laughed despite herself.
He carried her toward the bedroom.
“Bed.”
“You're impossible.”
“So I've been told.”
He lowered her carefully.
Their faces ended up too close.
Neither moved.
Hannah's hand rested on his shoulder.
Damian’s fingers remained around her waist.
For one dangerous second, everything else disappeared.
Then Hannah whispered:
“You shouldn't look at me like that.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you've forgotten I work for you.”
Damian stepped back immediately.
She was right.
Again.
“I'm sorry.”
Hannah seemed surprised.
Damian Russo did not apologize often.
He moved away.
“You're safe here tonight.”
“Thank you.”
He turned to leave.
“Damian.”
He looked back.
“I’m glad you can walk.”
A genuine smile entered her face.
“Not because it makes you stronger.”
“Then why?”
“Because I know how much pretending hurt.”
He said nothing.
Hannah closed her eyes.
Damian left.
Carlo waited outside.
“You're in trouble.”
“What?”
“You like her.”
Damian stared at him.
“Go away.”
Carlo grinned.
“The great Damian Russo survived an ambush, infiltrators, and a fake spinal injury.”
“Carlo.”
“But one maid—”
“Leave.”
Carlo laughed and disappeared down the hall.
Damian walked toward his office.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Russo.”
Lorenzo Moretti spoke.
“Enjoy your miracle?”
Damian's expression hardened.
“Enjoy your remaining fingers?”
Moretti chuckled.
“Bruno was supposed to make sure nobody left Warehouse Nine.”
Damian stopped.
There it was.
Confession adjacent.
“You started the fire.”
“No.”
Moretti paused.
“Your fiancée did.”
Damian's blood turned cold.
“Vivien?”
“She needed the ledger destroyed.”
“But it wasn't there.”
“Apparently she didn't know that.”
Damian looked toward the bedroom where Hannah slept.
Moretti continued:
“And if you think the warehouse was her worst idea, ask Carlo who authorized your route the night of the ambush.”
The line disconnected.
Damian stood alone.
Then he called Carlo.
“Get back here.”
“What happened?”
May you like
Damian stared at the dark city.
“I think Vivien tried to kill me before she knew I could walk.”
