PART 5: Confronting the Badge-Wearing Thugs
PART 5: Confronting the Badge-Wearing Thugs
Corrupt cops collide with untouchable mobsters.
Knock. Knock.
Heavy, aggressive rapping echoed against the solid wood of the hospital room door.
“Open up! New York City Police Department! We need to speak with the witness inside immediately!” a gruff voice demanded from the hallway.
Dominic didn't answer. He stood silently near the foot of my bed, his shadow stretching across the floor tiles, radiating a dark, suffocating menace.
Rattle.
The detectives tried the handle, finding it locked.
“Hey! Open this door right now, or we kick it off the hinges!”
With a slow, deliberate motion, Dominic reached out and unlocked the heavy latch, pulling the door open just wide enough to block the threshold with his broad shoulders.
Standing in the hallway were two middle-aged men in rumpled trench coats, their badges pinned haphazardly to their lapels, their hands resting dangerously close to their holstered sidearms.
The lead detective—a scarred, heavy-set man named Malone—started to push his way past, but stopped cold when he looked up and recognized the man standing in front of him.
Color drained completely from Detective Malone’s face.
“V... Valentine?” Malone stammered, taking an involuntary half-step backward. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“That’s Mr. Valentine to you, Detective,” Dominic replied, his voice chillingly smooth, carrying the lethal weight of an executioner. “And this is a private recovery room. Can I help you with something?”
Malone swallowed hard, trying desperately to recover his professional authority while his eyes darted nervously into the room toward my bed.
“We... we have a routine inquiry regarding the diner shooting last night,” Malone said, clearing his throat. “The girl... Ms. Chen. We need her official statement for the precinct records.”
“Her statement can wait until she’s discharged,” Dominic stated, not moving an inch from the doorway. “And when she gives her statement, it will be to my legal team—not to corrupt municipal officers on the Moretti payroll.”
Malone’s face flushed a mottled, angry red.
“Listen to me, Valentine, we have a badge—”
“And I have a graveyard behind my warehouse in Queens that has plenty of room for men who wear cheap badges and ask too many questions,” Dominic interrupted, his dark eyes locking onto the detective with such terrifying finality that Malone physically recoiled.
The second detective tugged frantically on Malone’s sleeve.
“Come on, Mal... let’s go. It’s not worth it,” the junior cop whispered, his eyes wide with genuine panic.
Malone glared at Dominic for one tense, agonizing second, then spat on the floor outside the threshold, turned on his heel, and stalked down the hallway with his partner trailing closely behind him.
May you like
The door clicked shut.
Dominic exhaled a slow, controlled breath, turned back around, and walked slowly toward my bed.
