Chapter 2 - The Poisoned Needle
Dr. Thorne aimed the deadly weapon directly at the center of my chest without a single second of hesitation. I did not give the traitorous doctor the chance to pull the trigger and end my reign. I lunged forward like a coiled spring, closing the short distance between us before he could even blink. I grabbed his wrist with crushing force, twisting it violently until I heard the sickening snap of his bone. The heavy silenced pistol clattered uselessly onto the hardwood floor, sliding far out of his immediate reach. I drove my fist hard into his jaw, sending him crashing backward into the ornate bedside table. He collapsed into a heap of shattered mahogany wood and broken glass medical supplies. I quickly kicked his dropped weapon completely under the heavy bed to ensure he could not retrieve it. My heart hammered relentlessly against my ribs as I desperately tried to process this massive betrayal. Dr. Thorne had been my most loyal physician for over a decade, saving my life on multiple occasions. If a man so close to my inner circle was compromised, my entire criminal empire was in severe, imminent danger. I picked up the discarded syringe from the rug, examining the deadly, clear liquid swirling inside the glass tube. It was clearly a highly concentrated neurotoxin designed specifically to mimic a natural, fatal heart attack. I grabbed Dr. Thorne violently by the collar, hauling him up until his bleeding face was inches from mine. "Who gave you the direct order to assassinate my housekeeper?" I demanded fiercely, shaking his broken frame. The doctor spat a thick glob of blood onto the floor and offered me a cruel, mocking smile. "You are already a dead man, Victor," Thorne laughed breathlessly, his eyes filled with fanatical devotion. "The estate perimeter has already been breached, and your highly paid guards are bleeding out on the lawn." I dropped him heavily back to the floor and pulled my own custom weapon from my shoulder holster. I grabbed Lily gently with my free hand, hoisting the terrified child securely onto my left hip. I slung Elena’s completely unconscious body over my right shoulder, groaning under the immense, awkward weight. We had to reach the underground panic room immediately if any of us were going to survive this night. I sprinted down the dark, luxurious corridors of my massive estate, keeping my weapon raised and ready. I asked Lily who had secretly given her mother the old photograph of my dead brother. The three-year-old buried her face deep into my neck to hide from the frightening shadows of the hallway. "The ghost man gave it to her," Lily whispered softly, her voice muffled against my collar. I stopped dead in my tracks, my tactical mind racing with impossible, terrifying theories. "What ghost man, sweetheart?" I asked desperately, scanning the empty corridor for any signs of movement. Lily pointed her small finger toward a heavy iron ventilation grate built into the baseboard of the wall. "The scary man who lives inside the walls of your big house," she answered with chilling innocence.
