CHAPTER 33: The Trap At The Clinic
Corvo didn’t strike back at Victor or Jude or Marcus. He struck where he knew I’d be alone—late one rainy night, after everyone else had gone home. I was restocking shelves when three men burst through the back door, masks pulled low, crowbars in hand.
“Close the place down,” one snarled. “Or we’ll close it for good.”
I stepped back slowly, keeping the counter between us. “This clinic serves everyone. Even people who owe you money. Even people who work for you.”
One of them swung his bar at the medicine cabinet—glass shattering, bottles spilling across the floor. “We don’t care. We care about what’s ours.”
Before he could strike again, the lights flared bright. Victor stood in the doorway, followed by Jude and four uniformed officers who’d been waiting just out of sight. Corvo had sent exactly the kind of message we’d been waiting for—proof of vandalism and intimidation, caught on camera and recorded on audio.
As they led the men away, Victor walked over to me, brushing glass from my sleeve. “I promised I wouldn’t hide you from the world,” he said softly. “But I never promised I’d let it hurt you.”
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