Chapter 5 - The Invitation
By two o'clock in the morning, the rain had tapered off into a fine, freezing mist that clung to the windows like grease.
Casius was still sitting at Delaney’s kitchen table. He had not touched the lukewarm tea she offered him, nor had he removed his coat, but he sat with a patient, unhurried stillness that suggested he had nowhere else in the world he would rather be.
Gianni, his chief of security, knocked softly on the back door, stepped inside, and handed Casius a sleek digital tablet.
Casius tapped the glass twice, his eyes scanning the screen before turning it toward Delaney.
On the screen was a live video feed from the Ashford estate on the north side of the city. The long asphalt driveway was jammed with black luxury cars. Valets were rushing back and forth under giant black umbrellas, loading heavy leather luggage into the trunks of two silver SUVs.
"What is that?" Delaney asked, leaning in to look at the screen.
"That is Arthur Ashford preparing to leave the country," Casius said calmly. "After I canceled the engagement celebrations tonight, Arthur realized that his position was compromised. He has a private charter flight booked out of O'Hare at seven o'clock tomorrow morning, heading for a non-extradition territory in South America."
Delaney’s chest tightened. "Then he's getting away."
"No," Casius said, swiping the screen away and handing the tablet back to Gianni. "He thinks he's getting away. He believes he still has six hours to transfer the remaining capital from the St. Bellamy endowment fund into his private offshore accounts."
He stood up, his tall frame once again dominating the small room. He looked down at Delaney, taking in the exhausted lines around her eyes, the worn cardigan, and the fierce, quiet strength that seemed to radiate from her despite everything she had suffered.
"Tomorrow night is the annual St. Bellamy Foundation Gala," Casius said. "It is the event where Arthur Ashford planned to announce his daughter's marriage into the Ferraro family, solidifying his control over the hospital board for another decade."
"I know what the Gala is," Delaney said bitterly. "I worked the floor shift during last year's event. I spent eight hours changing IV bags for uninsured cardiac patients while the board drank eighty-dollar-a-glass scotch in the ballroom upstairs."
"Tomorrow night, you won't be working the floor shift," Casius said.
He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a thick, black-embossed card stamped with the Ferraro gold seal, and laid it on the table beside her mother's ledger.
"This is the master invitation for the Don's box," Casius said. "It gives the bearer absolute authority over the venue, the guest list, and the security detail. My father held it for thirty years. Now it belongs to you."
Delaney looked at the gold-embossed card. "You want me to go to the Gala?"
"I want you to walk into that ballroom," Casius corrected her softly. "Not as a courier. Not as a floor nurse begging for a shift. I want you to walk in as the majority owner of St. Bellamy Memorial Hospital."
Delaney looked at her broken shoe resting on the floorboards. She looked at her raw, red hands.
"Look at me, Mr. Ferraro," she said, her voice shaking with a sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion. "I don't belong in that ballroom. Camille Ashford was right about that much. I have two hundred dollars in my checking account, my mortgage is in default, and I smell like antiseptic and wet rubber. Those people... doctors like Renner, board members like Ashford... they look through me like I'm made of glass."
Casius stepped closer to her. He did not touch her, but his presence was so absolute, so commanding, that Delaney felt her breath catch in her throat.
"They look through you because they are terrified of what happens if they actually look at you," Casius said, his voice dropping into a deep, ferocious whisper. "They know what they built their fortunes on, Delaney. They built them on your mother’s blood and your silence. Tomorrow night, we are taking away their noise."
He turned toward the door, stopping with his hand on the brass knob. He looked back over his shoulder at her.
"At ten o'clock tomorrow morning, a car will arrive at this house," Casius said. "A woman named Madam Laurent will be inside it. She has brought clothes for the women of my family for twenty years. Let her do her work, Delaney."
"And if I say no?" Delaney asked softly.
May you like
Casius smiled—a small, dark, dangerous expression that transformed his sharp face completely.
"You won't say no," Casius said. "Because you checked those four vials of medication tonight, Delaney. Even when you were down on your knees in the rain, you made sure the medicine didn't spoil. You care about that hospital more than anyone sitting in that ballroom ever has. And you're not going to let Arthur Ashford get on that plane."
