I came home early and found my housekeeper’s three-year-old daughter standing barefoot on a stool, scrubbing one of my custom-made shirts in freezing water. Her tiny hands were red and swollen, but she refused to stop because she believed her sick mother would lose her job if the stain remained. Everyone in my house feared my temper—but when that little girl looked at me and whispered, “If Mama loses this job, we won’t have a home,” I was suddenly eight years old again.

The air in my study suddenly became too heavy to breathe.

I stared at Harland, trying to comprehend the sheer evil sitting in my chair.

He was casually holding the lives of an innocent woman and her child hostage for financial gain.

I did not waste a single second negotiating with a psychopath.

I lunged across the desk with a speed that wiped the smug smile right off his face.

I grabbed him by the throat and slammed his head violently against the mahogany wood.

The crystal scotch glass shattered onto the expensive rug.

I ordered him to give me the antidote immediately.

Harland gasped for air, his face turning a dark shade of purple as he choked out a laugh.

He whispered that the antidote was already hidden miles away from the estate.

I shoved him to the floor and pulled my cell phone from my pocket.

I dialed my private physician, demanding he bring a universal toxicology kit to the servant quarters immediately.

I scooped Nora up into my arms and sprinted down the hallway toward her mother’s room.

We burst through the simple wooden door at the end of the staff wing.

Elena was lying on her small bed, her skin pale and covered in a thick layer of sweat.

She was barely breathing, her chest rising and falling in shallow, erratic jerks.

Nora began to cry, reaching her tiny hands out toward her mother.

I set the little girl down and frantically checked Elena’s pulse.

It was dangerously weak and fading fast.

My private doctor rushed into the room just minutes later, carrying a heavy black medical bag.

He quickly drew a sample of Elena’s blood and ran it through a portable centrifuge analyzer.

I paced the floor, praying we were not too late to save her.

The doctor looked at the digital results on his screen, his expression turning to absolute horror.

He looked up at me and said this was not a poison at all.

The Clumsy Maid Bathed His Dog—Then The Mafia Boss Said She Wasn’t Leavi...

She found her husband with another woman and walked away so quietly that...

The Mafia Boss Asked a Disabled Widow If She Was Okay

Harland had injected her with a massive, lethal dose of an untraceable synthetic narcotic.

And the police were already pulling into my driveway to arrest her for dealing drugs out of my mansion.

Chapter 2 - The Lethal Dose