Chapter 6 - Retaliation
By midnight, the pediatric emergency wing of St. Jude’s was operating under high-security lockdown. Armed private guards stood outside Room 402, where Sofía lay sleeping under a warm blanket, monitors quietly beeping beside her bed.
I sat in the corner armchair, nursing a lukewarm cup of hospital coffee, watching the IV drip slowly hydrate her small body. Luca hadn't moved from the bedside chair in three hours. His tuxedo jacket was draped over the back of the seat, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his eyes hollow with guilt.
"You knew something was wrong three weeks ago, didn't you, Emily?" Luca asked without looking up from his daughter’s sleeping face.
"I suspected," I replied quietly. "Every time I tried to increase Sofía's weight-bearing exercises, Vanessa would intervene. She threatened to have my license revoked if I pushed Sofía beyond her comfort zone. But Sofía... Sofía was so determined, Mr. Moretti. When Vanessa left for her bridal fittings, Sofía would look at me and say, 'Emily, help me stand. My dad needs to see me stand.' She loves you more than her own life."
Luca buried his face in his hands, his broad frame shaking with silent, agonized weeping. "I was buried in spreadsheets, Emily. I thought giving her the best house, the best tutors, the best clothes was being a father. I let a monster into our home because she flattered me, because she made life seem organized while I was drowning in grief over Clara."
"You know now," I said gently. "That's what matters. You stood by her tonight."
Before Luca could answer, the door swung open and Dr. Lorenzo walked in alongside Dr. Aris Thorne, the chief of pediatric toxicology. Dr. Thorne held a digitized lab report on his clipboard, his expression grave.
"Mr. Moretti," Dr. Thorne said, adjusting his spectacles. "The comprehensive mass spectrometry results are in. We found trace levels of Baclofen and compounded Botulinum neurotoxin derivatives in Sofía's bloodstream."
Luca shot up from his chair. "Toxin? She poisoned my child?"
"It’s insidious, Mr. Moretti," Dr. Thorne explained, holding up his hand to calm him. "These aren't lethal doses. Baclofen is a powerful muscle relaxant used for severe spasticity. In a normal patient, high micro-doses cause extreme weakness, hypotonia, and temporary flaccid paralysis in the lower limbs. When combined with the low-grade botulinum derivatives, it effectively blocked the acetylcholine receptors in her leg muscles. It didn't destroy her nerves—it just silenced them for eight to twelve hours after ingestion."
I gasped. "The three o'clock shake. It kicked in right before Luca got home from work every single evening!"
"Precisely," Dr. Thorne said. "By the time her father arrived, Sofía was completely incapable of moving her legs, perfectly simulating irreversible chronic paraplegia. If she had missed a dose for forty-eight hours, the drug would wash out, and her natural motor function would return—which is exactly what happened when Emily smuggled her out to the clinic this morning without her afternoon dose."
Luca’s phone buzzed violently on the bedside table. He picked it up, glancing at the caller ID.
It was the head of his private estate security team.
May you like
"Report," Luca barked into the receiver.
*"Mr. Moretti,"* the security captain’s voice crackled through the speaker, urgent and strained. *"We have a breach at the penthouse. Someone disabled the master alarm system from the inside using an administrative master code. The master bedroom safe has been breached, and someone is in Miss Sofía's private medical suite right now."*
