Chapter 3 - The Blood on the Marble
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“Arthur!”
The scream came from the cathedral altar, but Arthur Romano heard nothing except the shallow, ragged breaths of the woman bleeding in his arms.
He kicked open the heavy side doors of the church, ignoring the rain that lashed aggressively against his tuxedo. He carried Chloe down the stone steps, moving with a desperate, terrifying speed.
“Bring the car! Now!” Arthur roared into the storm.
His personal driver, who had been smoking near the iron gates, threw his cigarette away and scrambled into the armored Maybach. The heavy vehicle screeched to a halt at the bottom of the steps. Arthur didn't wait for the doors to be opened. He yanked the rear door open himself and slid inside, holding Chloe tightly against his chest.
“Drive to the underground clinic,” Arthur ordered, his voice shaking with a panic he had never shown in his entire life. “If you stop for a single red light, I will put a bullet in your head.”
The car surged forward.
Arthur looked down at Chloe. Her face was frighteningly pale, her dark hair plastered to her forehead by the rain. He pressed his hand against the dark stain on her burgundy dress. It was warm. Too warm.
“Chloe, stay with me,” he begged, pressing his forehead against hers. “Do not close your eyes. Keep your eyes on me.”
“Arthur,” she gasped, her hands clutching his lapels. “The baby... please, the baby.”
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“I’ve got you,” he swore, tears mingling with the rain on his face. “I am not letting you go. I am not losing you.”
He looked at the blood on his hands. He had built his entire life on violence, on controlling the fear of others. But looking at the mother of his unborn child bleeding in his arms, Arthur realized he had absolutely no control over the one thing that actually mattered.
