Chapter 2 - SHADOWS OF DUPRICITY
Victor Romano did not rise from his chair; he detached from it like a shadow breaking free from a wall. The encrypted tablet stayed locked in his palm, screen still glowing with the image of Norah Hayes cradling his son.
His heart hammered a slow, heavy rhythm against his ribs, not the frantic panic of an amateur, but the cold, focused adrenaline of a predator who realized the trap was inside his own lair.
"Dante," Victor spoke into his encrypted comms, his voice dangerously low.
"Boss?" Dante Calderon’s gravelly voice came back instantly over the earpiece. "Security perimeter is clear. Patrols are on schedule."
"Get up to my office. Right now. Alone."
Thirty seconds later, the heavy walnut door clicked open. Dante stepped in, his tall frame filling the doorway. Tattoos crawled up his neck beneath a tailored dark suit. He took one look at Victor’s face and his posture shifted from relaxed authority to absolute readiness.
"What happened?" Dante asked, hand instinctively moving toward his jacket. "Did the Commission move on the docks?"
"Look at this," Victor said, turning the tablet toward him and replaying the last sixty seconds of video.
Dante watched the screen in silence. He saw Meline deliver the bowl. He saw Norah lock the door. He saw the clear chemical reaction that turned his boss’s son's food into ink-black poison.
Dante’s jaw flexed. "That bitch."
"Which one?" Victor snapped, his eyes burning into his underboss.
Dante blinked, startled by the edge in Victor's tone. "Meline, boss. She brought the tray. She’s been feeding the kid for months."
"And who controls the kitchen, Dante? Who vetting the staff? Who hire Meline’s personal guards?" Victor stepped around his desk, towering over his lifelong lieutenant. "Meline didn't act alone. A senator's daughter doesn't mix military-grade neurotoxins in my kitchen without a network inside this house."
"You think I had something to do with this?" Dante’s face flushed dark red with genuine outrage. "I took a bullet for you in Miami, Victor! I held Clara’s hand while she died in that Caddy! I would give my life for Leo!"
"Then prove it," Victor cold-eyed him. "Norah Hayes knows the food is poisoned. She knew before tonight. She brought a testing kit into my home. Why didn't she come to me?"
"Because she’s a disgraced nurse with a record," Dante reasoned quickly. "If she comes to the Mafia Don claiming his wealthy fiancée is killing his kid, who do you think you’d believe? You’d kill her before she finished the sentence."
The truth of Dante’s words struck Victor like a physical blow. He had created an environment so thick with fear that the only person trying to save his son was terrified to speak.
"We don't move on Meline yet," Victor ordered, his decision crystalline. "If Senator Hart is involved, this isn't just a domestic betrayal—it's a hostile takeover of the Romano family. They aren't just trying to kill Leo; they're draining his mind, keeping him paralyzed, keeping me broken and distracted while they chip away at my territory."
"What about the nurse?" Dante asked. "She’s in that room right now with a locked door."
"I’m going down there," Victor said, picking up his Glock and racking the slide with a metallic clack. "And you are going to secure the estate's server room. If anyone tries to wipe the kitchen security logs tonight, put a bullet in their knee and bring them to the basement."
Victor walked down the grand marble staircase of his Highland Park mansion, every step silent despite his size. The house was quiet, save for the rhythmic patter of rain against the high stained-glass windows. To the outside world, this mansion was a fortress. To him, tonight, it felt like a tomb wrapped in gold leaf.
He reached the west wing, where Leo’s room was situated far from the primary reception halls. The hallway was empty. He stood outside the heavy oak door.
He didn't knock.
Victor pulled a master key from his pocket, inserted it into the lock, and turned it gently. The heavy deadbolt retracted with a quiet click.
He pushed the door open.
Norah Hayes whipped around, a silver scalpel from her emergency care kit raised in her hand, her body positioned directly between the doorway and the small boy in the bed. Her knuckles were white. Her eyes were wide with a lethal combination of terror and fierce protectiveness.
"Get back," she breathed, her voice trembling but unbroken.
May you like
Victor stepped into the room, closing the door silently behind him. He looked at the scalpel, then down at the black liquid in the vial resting on the bedside table, and finally at his son, who was staring at him with eyes that were no longer empty.
"Put the knife down, Norah," Victor said softly. "I saw the camera feed."
