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Chapter 5 - Beyond the Iron Gates

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The black sedan pulled up to the massive forged-iron gates of the Marquetti estate just as dusk was settling over the Long Island coast.

Adeline stared out the window as the gates opened slowly, revealing a winding stone driveway lined with towering oak trees. Armed men in dark suits stood discreetly near the perimeter walls, their eyes scanning the vehicle as it passed.

The car stopped before a grand stone mansion that looked more like a European fortress than a residence.

Adeline stepped out carrying her modest medical bag, her simple navy scrubs contrasting sharply with the opulent surroundings.

A stern woman with graying hair stood at the top of the grand marble steps.

"You must be Nurse Whitaker," the woman said, studying Adeline with a keen, evaluating gaze. "I am Marisol Ortega, the head housekeeper."

"Good evening, Ms. Ortega," Adeline replied politely. "I'm ready to begin."

Marisol led her through the towering foyer, where crystal chandeliers cast long shadows across the polished marble floors.

"A few rules before you enter Don Alfonso's room," Marisol warned in a low voice as they climbed the grand staircase. "He does not like bright lights. He hates being pitied. And he despises being called 'sir' or 'master'. Three nurses before you tried to treat him like a child, and he threw them out within forty-eight hours."

"I treat all my patients like human beings, Ms. Ortega," Adeline said quietly. "Nothing more, nothing less."

Marisol paused, looking at Adeline with a flicker of unexpected approval, before continuing down the quiet corridor.

At the end of the hall, Marisol pushed open a set of heavy dark wood doors.

The bedroom was vast but dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. The air smelled faintly of rubbing alcohol, old leather, and rain. In the center of the room sat a massive four-poster bed, where an old man lay beneath a dark blanket.

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Alfonso Marquetti looked small fragile against the huge bed, but as Adeline stepped closer, his dark, sunken eyes snapped open, sharp as a hawk's.

"Another one?" Alfonso rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stones. "Tell me, girl... are you afraid of me?"

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