Chapter 9 - The Poisoned Apple
Marco’s terrifying words hung heavily in the sterile air of the bunker, chilling me far worse than the river water ever could.
He explained that the specialized heart medication Elena had been taking for the last month was actually a highly advanced, synthesized virus.
Dominic had secretly swapped her prescriptions through Victor’s underground clinic to use her as a biological incubator.
The virus was completely harmless to adults, but it thrived and mutated rapidly when passed to a child through close physical contact.
My six-year-old daughter was entirely asymptomatic right now, but she was carrying a weaponized strain worth billions on the black market.
Dominic had explicitly planned to kidnap the child, extract the mutated virus, and sell it back to the highest bidder in Russia.
Marco confessed that he only discovered the true depth of Dominic’s horrific plan after our violent fight in Queens.
He couldn't stomach the monstrous idea of weaponizing an innocent child, which was why he had turned on Dominic and the Russians.
I looked down at the little girl in the yellow dress, realizing the pharmacy bag she had guarded so fiercely was the very thing meant to destroy her.
Rage, pure and blindingly bright, ignited in my chest like a violent supernova.
I lowered the shotgun slowly, realizing Marco was standing here as a dead man walking, having betrayed every major faction in the city.
He handed me a secure flash drive containing the exact chemical formula of the virus and the only known medical cure.
"The cure is highly unstable, Vincent, it requires a complete blood transfusion within the next twelve hours," Marco warned grimly.
He told me that Dominic was currently waiting at a private airstrip in Teterboro, preparing to flee the country and leave us to die.
I knew I had to secure the medical equipment for the transfusion and eliminate my treacherous brother once and for all.
I ordered Marco to stay in the bunker and protect Elena and the child with his absolute life.
I loaded every weapon I could find into a heavy tactical bag, stepping out into the cold, gray morning light.
I stole Marco's armored truck and drove violently toward the Teterboro airstrip, my mind focused entirely on bloody vengeance.
I crashed the truck directly through the chain-link gates of the private runway, ignoring the blaring, panicked security alarms.
Dominic’s luxury private jet was already spooling its engines loudly, preparing to take off into the cloudy sky.
I leaped from the moving truck, firing an assault rifle directly into the massive turbine of the jet engine.
The engine exploded in a spectacular shower of titanium blades and jet fuel, grounding the aircraft permanently on the tarmac.
Dominic stumbled out of the emergency exit, coughing through the thick black smoke and raising a gold-plated pistol.
I didn't hesitate, firing a single, precise shot that shattered his kneecap and sent him screaming to the pavement.
I walked up to my brother, kicking the gun out of his hand and pressing the hot barrel of my rifle against his forehead.
He begged pathetically for his life, promising me the empire, the billions, and absolute power in New York.
I told him I didn't want the criminal empire anymore; I only wanted the blood transfusion equipment he had stolen.
Dominic laughed weakly, spitting blood onto the runway as a horrific, evil smile spread across his face.
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"You are too late, Vincent," Dominic choked out, his eyes wide with malicious, dying delight.
"The transfusion equipment isn't on this plane, I sent it to the bunker to be completely destroyed by the Russians."
