Chapter 5 - Flight Over the Skyline
The wind on the roof helipad of the Bellmont Grand was fierce, howling off Lake Michigan and whipping my hair across my face as the twin-engine Eurocopter idled with a deafening, rhythmic roar.
The pilot held the cabin door open, his face obscured by a dark visor.
Giovanni didn't let go of my hand for a single second. He practically lifted me into the leather-lined interior of the cabin, climbed in behind me, and slammed the heavy door shut, instantly cutting the roar of the rotors down to a manageable, muffled thrum.
As the helicopter lifted smoothly off the concrete pad, tilting forward to bank over the glittering grid of Chicago’s nighttime skyline, I pressed my forehead against the cold glass of the window. My hands were trembling so violently I couldn't even zip my purse.
"She's going to be okay," Giovanni’s voice came from right beside me.
I turned my head, tears finally breaking free and spilling down my cheeks. For the past five years, I had been the strong one. I had been the provider, the protector, the wall between my little girl and the harsh realities of the world. I had never allowed myself to lean on anyone because there was never anyone there to catch me.
"You don't know that," I whispered, my voice breaking. "She had a mild fever this morning, but she was fine when I left her. If her asthma is acting up—if the nebulizer isn't enough—"
"Dr. Alistair is the head of pediatric emergency at Mercy," Giovanni interrupted, his hand reaching out to firmly, gently wipe a tear from my cheek with his thumb. His touch was shockingly tender for a man who had terrified my ex-husband and threatened a room full of billionaires twenty minutes ago. "I called him the moment your mother told us. He's already cleared Trauma Bay Two. They're waiting for her at the helipad landing pad on the roof of the hospital."
I stared at him, dumbfounded. "You... you called the head of pediatrics while we were still running for the elevator?"
"Of course I did," he said simply, as if calling the top doctor in the state were as casual as ordering takeout. "When you're married to a Fierro, Jessica, you don't wait in waiting rooms."
Despite the terror clawing at my chest, a weak, watery huff of laughter escaped my lips. "We aren't even legally married, you absolute lunatic."
"The county clerk processed the paperwork at 4:45 PM," he reminded me with a faint, reassuring smirk. "Legally speaking, as of twenty minutes ago, you are stuck with me."
The helicopter banked sharply, descending toward the illuminated rooftop cross of Mercy General Hospital. Through the windshield, I could already see the red and white flashing lights of the ambulance idling near the emergency lift doors.
Before the landing gear even touched the concrete, the cabin door swung open. Dr. Alistair himself, coat fluttering in the rotor wash, was standing right there with a medical team.
The moment the door opened, Giovanni was out first, clearing the path, establishing absolute control of the environment with the quiet, effortless authority of a man who owned half the city.
As I jumped down from the cabin, the medical team wheeled a stretcher out from the elevator.
And there, sitting up against a pile of hospital pillows with a small oxygen mask over her face and a oversized teddy bear clutched in her arms, was Lily.
May you like
"Mama!" she muffled through the mask, her big brown eyes—so much like my own—rounding in surprise as she saw me step out of a private helicopter flanked by a man in a custom tuxedo.
I didn't care about the doctors, the nurses, or the billionaire standing beside me. I dropped to my knees on the cold concrete rooftop, wrapped my arms tightly around my little girl, and wept into her small shoulder.
