527 The doctors gave my three-year-old son just fourteen days to live, and i believed nothing could hurt me more than that. Then a quiet maid served him a red velvet cake made from my murdered wife's secret recipe, placed a letter in front of him in her unmistakable handwriting, and whispered that Sofia had known who was going to kill her.

My instincts, honed by fifteen years of ruling the Chicago underworld, took control in a fraction of a second. I stepped directly into Dominic’s line of sight, shielding Elena and Matteo with my body.

"Lower your weapon, Dominic," I said, my voice dangerously calm.

Dominic blinked, surprise flashing across his rugged face. "Luca, you don't understand! This woman is connected to the syndicate in New York! She’s playing you! She brought food into this house—she could have poisoned the boy!"

"He was already dying, Dominic," I replied, staring into the eyes of the man I had trusted with my life a thousand times over. "And five minutes after eating her cake, my son sat up and said his chest stopped hurting. Explain that to me."

Dominic’s eyes flickered nervously toward the men standing behind him. "It’s... it’s a trick, boss. A temporary chemical spike. Dr. Pierce said—"

"Dr. Pierce is coming here," I interrupted smoothly. "In fact, I want every doctor, every guard, and every member of my inner council locked inside this estate tonight. Nobody leaves. Nobody uses a phone. Anyone who attempts to contact the outside world will be executed on the spot."

A heavy tension settled over the room. Dominic slowly lowered his gun, though the vein in his temple throbbed violently. "Of course, Luca. Anything for Matteo. I'll double the perimeter guards myself."

"No," I said quietly. "You won't. You will sit in the study with me. We have much to discuss about Sofia."

I turned to Elena. "Take Matteo to his room. Stay with him. If anyone attempts to enter without my explicit command, use the weapon under his mattress."

Elena gave a single, firm nod. She picked up Matteo—who clung to her neck with surprising strength—and carried him up the grand staircase.

As soon as they disappeared down the hallway, I turned back to Dominic and my guards. "Search Dr. Pierce’s office at the hospital. Bring him here in chains. If he resists, break his legs, but keep him breathing."

Two hours later, the storm outside the Moretti mansion mirrored the tempest brewing inside. Rain lashed against the tall stained-glass windows of my private study. Dominic sat across from me, sipping scotch, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm against the crystal glass.

"You're acting paranoid, Luca," Dominic said, attempting a relaxed smile. "I know how hard this has been on you. Losing Sofia, now Matteo... it's breaking you. You're letting a random girl manipulate your grief."

"Is she?" I leaned back in my leather chair, opening the desk drawer where Sofia’s letter lay hidden. "Sofia left me a message, Dominic. She knew she was going to die. She knew about the toxin."

Dominic froze mid-sip. "A message? That's impossible. We searched her belongings top to bottom after the hit."

"We did," I agreed. "Which means whoever set her up didn't realize how smart my wife was. She knew that the person behind her murder wasn't an outside enemy. It was someone who knew our security codes. Someone who knew which car she was taking that night. Someone who had access to my private safe."

Dominic set his glass down on the mahogany desk with a heavy clink. "Are you accusing me, Luca? After everything we’ve built together? I took a bullet for you in Miami!"

"I haven't accused anyone yet," I said softly. "I'm just laying out the facts. And the fact is, Matteo’s vital signs stabilized thirty minutes after eating food prepared by a woman you claim is an assassin."

Before Dominic could reply, the study doors flew open. My security chief, Marcus, dragged a bruised and trembling Dr. Pierce into the room, throwing him onto the Persian rug.

"We found him trying to catch a flight to Mexico," Marcus reported, his voice grim. "He had two million dollars in cash in his duffel bag."

I stood up slowly, walking over to the shivering doctor. I knelt beside him, grabbing him by his collar and pulling his face inches from mine.

"Tell me what you put in my son's IV, Pierce," I whispered. "And if you lie to me, I won't just kill you. I will make sure you suffer for as long as Matteo has suffered."

"It... it wasn't my idea!" Pierce sobbed, tears and blood streaming down his face. "I was forced! They paid me... they said if I didn't gradually weaken his heart, they would kill my daughter!"

"Who paid you?" I roared, slamming his head against the floor. "GIVE ME A NAME!"

Dr. Pierce raised a trembling finger, pointing straight past me.