The Plan
1519 Words
~CHAPTER One~
[Chicago, Dew Hospital, Trauma ICU]
The corridor reeked of antiseptic as Ivanna walked through the halls, her heart barely hanging in her chest.
The quiet hum of machines from different glass walled wards reminded her that the heart never breaks clean. It shatters in echoes that only silence can hear.
She moved aside as emergency nurses rushed past her into a ward to attend to a patient.
She paused and took a deep breath, sliding her hands into the pockets of her tight black jeans.
The hospital was filled with patients from the construction site accident, and doctors were refusing to perform surgery on any of them.
They wanted large sums of money placed on their tables before they would save a life, so every patient remained in critical condition simply because they were poor.
Only the kind nurses were struggling to keep them alive.
The Armando family, who owned the construction site, showed no concern about the casualties despite the protests taking place.
The protest had been ongoing for a week now, yet the Armandos remained unmoved. That was why Ivanna and her siblings had made a grand plan.
Today, they would get the money and throw it in the doctors’ faces.
Ivanna took a few more strides, her key pendant necklace dangling against her chest until she reached the last ward where her parents were kept.
The double doors hissed open, flooding the corridor with bright lights as the couple came into view.
Mr and Mrs Cooper.
Jungles of wires and pipes ran into their bodies, mouths, and ears. Both were barely alive on their coma beds.
They had suffered traumatic brain injuries and brutal sepsis, conditions that required surgery within two days, or they would die in their comas.
Ivanna stood between their beds, missing her mother’s grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.
She missed stealing her father’s toast. She missed their once happy family, now torn between survival and desperation.
Christmas was less than three months away, so whatever it took, the money had to come today.
She bent down, planting deep kisses on their foreheads.
Mother first, then father.
“We’ll be right back with the money later today, no matter what,” she assured the comatose couple.
She pasted a note on the door before exiting the ward, her short heels pounding against the tiled floor as she rushed out of the crowded hospital.
Stepping out through the large gate, she gathered her hair and tied it into a ponytail, the morning breeze doing nothing to calm her burning nerves.
The voices of the protesters rushed hookup her ears, and she briefly watched the helpless people fighting for their loved ones inside the hospital.
They held cardboard signs with marker writings such as:
WE WANT ATTENTION
THE ARMANDO FAMILY MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE CASUALTIES
OUR PEOPLE ARE DYING WITH NO HOPE OF SURGERY
Ivanna’s eyes twitched when she spotted a child standing close to the road.
He clearly belonged to one of the protesters, judging by his faded clothes. He stood unsteadily, close to passing out.
At the same moment, a Ferrari sped onto the road from the opposite side, racing towards the hospital entrance.
“f**k!” Ivanna gasped, breaking into an unplanned run.
Her adrenaline surged.
Thanks to her experience with stunts, she reached him in time, leaping onto the road and scooping the child into her arms.
The car sped past like a missile.
The protesters fell silent, eyes wide in shock.
The child’s mother rushed forward and took him from Ivanna’s arms.
“Keep an eye on him. There are already enough casualties in the wards,” Ivanna scolded, her breaths coming fast.
“He’s been protesting for his injured father, but he got weak because we haven’t eaten in two days. I’ll take him home now. Thank you for saving him,” the woman said gratefully.
Ivanna’s chest twisted with pain and pity, but before she could speak again, the speeding car reversed and stopped beside them.
It was a new model, sleek and black, and even before the owner stepped out, Ivanna could smell the expensive perfume.
A woman who looked like a maid stepped out from the back door, carrying a black umbrella. She hurried to the front door, opening it and raising the umbrella high.
The true owner of the car stepped out, and Ivanna took a step back to avoid the door hitting her.
The woman was of average height like Ivanna, but her grey eyes were cold and her poise intimidating.
Her chin was lifted, shoulders squared, hands clasped behind her back.
The mouths of the protesters fell open. Everyone in Chicago recognised her.
Lissa Armando, the only daughter of the Armando family. The heiress.
There was neither rain nor sun, yet the maid ensured the umbrella shielded her completely.
When Lissa’s gaze settled on Ivanna, it did not soften. She remained expressionless.
“Nice jumping skills,” she said calmly. “But the next time you jump in front of my car to save someone, I’ll crush your brains.”
“Are you insane?” Ivanna snapped, her eyes turning as cold as Lissa’s. “Your family’s construction site collapsed and left many workers, including my parents, fighting for their lives in this hospital.”
“Doctors are refusing to treat them. Ten workers are already dead because they never got surgery. Your family refuses to take responsibility, and the government does nothing because you are above the law.”
“And now you nearly ran over a child and threaten me? Human lives are not paper.”
Lissa remained unmoved, as if she had not heard a word.
Then she stepped closer. Ivanna did not retreat.
“Only ten people are dead?” Lissa replied flatly. “That’s a disappointingly low number.”
“What?” Ivanna’s eyes widened.
“If you think it’s unfair, get rich like me and I might give you my time. I might even sign an autograph,” Lissa continued coolly. “As for your question, am I insane? The answer is obvious, poor thing.”
“Let’s go. We have a wedding to attend,” she said to the maid before stepping back into the car.
The maid folded the umbrella and hurried inside after her.
The car sped away.
Half the protesters dropped their signs. Some sank to the ground and began to cry, hope draining away.
Ivanna did not waste another moment. She jumped into a taxi and headed to the small apartment she shared with her siblings.
She barged inside.
The blueprint map of the House of Esposito was spread across the table.
Ginny already wore a small backpack containing her tablet, perfectly matched to her petite frame.
Robert wore gloves, his biceps bulging beneath his shirt. A backpack containing their hired weapons lay beside his feet.
“Let me guess. You went to see Mum and Dad in the ICU?” he asked, glancing at Ivanna.
“Needed to say goodbye,” Ivanna replied dryly as she picked up her gloves.
“Goodbye? We’re not dying, Iva,” Ginny said, raising her brows as she drank from a bottle of cheap mimosa.
“Let’s take more than one bag from the slush fund. We can pay for everyone’s surgery in that hospital,” Ivanna said as she pulled on a blonde wig to cover her black hair.
She added spectacles, completely changing her appearance.
“Someone pissed you off. I can feel it,” Robert said, patting her before lifting the weapon bag.
“I’ll tell you later. For now, let’s get the bags and save Mum and Dad,” Ivanna replied with a small smile.
“Is the blonde wig really necessary?” Ginny asked. “You already have pale skin, you look like a doll. And the glasses are old fashioned.”
“Are you going to write a poem about my disguise?” Ivanna sighed.
“Sorry,” Ginny grinned, though sadness lingered beneath it.
They left in their rented car and drove to the Obscure Roses Shop on Street 136.
According to their intel, Donna Felicia Esposito loved rare roses and replaced her collection yearly through this shop.
This year’s replacement happened to be today.
When they arrived, florists in blue vests, face caps and masks were loading roses into a white truck for delivery.
Seven florists were in sight.
The siblings exited the car and walked casually towards the shop. Once inside, Ginny pulled out her tablet and disabled the cameras near the entrance.
They had prepared for four days. It was easy.
When two florists appeared, Robert pulled out a short handgun and fired sedative needles into their necks.
They collapsed unconscious.
Ivanna removed their vests, caps and masks, then dragged their bodies into a large rubbish bin filled with rotten roses.
When a third florist appeared and tried to scream, Ivanna reacted faster, firing a needle into her neck.
She fell asleep instantly.
They dressed in the stolen uniforms and joined the others, moving deeper into the shop like real florists.
- Writer
