Ten days. That was all the doctor believed my six-year-old twins had left, and for the first time in my life, all the money, guns, fear, and power I had built as one of Chicago’s most feared mafia bosses meant absolutely nothing. By three that afternoon, while death waited inside my mansion, a penniless woman stood outside my gates refusing to leave, and I had no idea she was about to change everything.

The massive shockwave shattered the expensive stained glass windows in my office.

I instantly tackled Elara to the floor as dangerous shards of glass rained down around us.

The blaring sound of security sirens immediately began echoing across the entire estate.

Prescott burst back into the room, holding his assault rifle and bleeding from a cut on his forehead.

He shouted that the Volkov syndicate had completely breached the outer perimeter walls.

I realized they had tracked Elara to my gates much faster than either of us had anticipated.

I ordered Prescott to lock down the entire house and shoot anyone who did not wear the Mercer crest.

I grabbed Elara by the arm and dragged her down the hidden spiral staircase toward the underground medical wing.

We reached the sterile white hallway just as Dr. Yates was rushing out of the twins' room.

I shoved Elara toward him and commanded him to prepare for the bone marrow extraction immediately.

Dr. Yates looked absolutely terrified, but he quickly ushered her into an empty examination room.

I stood outside the glass wall of the twins' room, watching Jonah and Blythe sleep peacefully through the chaos.

The sound of distant gunfire echoed faintly above us, reminding me of the war raging on my lawn.

Ten agonizing minutes passed before Dr. Yates finally stepped back into the hallway.

His face was completely pale, and his hands were shaking as he held a digital medical tablet.

I grabbed him by the collar and demanded to know if she was a viable match.

He stammered and confirmed that her bone marrow was absolutely flawless for the transplant.

I felt a massive wave of relief wash over me, believing my children were finally saved.

When my newborn 'passed away,' my mother-in-law leaned in and said

My Husband Left Me Alone in My Car While I Was in Labor

“You’re Dead When We Get Home,” He Snapped

Then Dr. Yates looked down at the floor and whispered that we could not use her blood.

He explained that her blood was heavily laced with a highly advanced, slow-acting neurotoxin.

Chapter 2 - The Lethal Blood