Chapter 1 - The White Pill
Nina Bennett tilted her head as she studied the small white pill resting on her palm.
It looked exactly like one of the sugary mints her mother sometimes bought from the corner store.
She had watched it fall directly from Doctor Hale's pocket just moments ago.
The heavy oak doors of the library were still open, revealing the empty hallway.
She walked back to Massimo Rinaldi, who was staring out the window at the dying autumn leaves.
The great mafia boss looked like a broken statue, trapped forever in his expensive wheelchair.
Nina gently tapped his knee to get his attention.
"Uncle Massimo, the doctor dropped this on the floor," she whispered sweetly.
Massimo slowly turned his head, his cold gray eyes focusing on her tiny outstretched hand.
He carefully picked up the pill, expecting to see a standard painkiller.
Instead, his blood ran completely cold as he saw a highly unusual red stamp on the white powder.
He recognized this specific chemical compound from his brutal days working in the underground black market.
It was a rare neurotoxin designed to mimic total spinal paralysis.
He was not permanently crippled from the bullet wounds.
He was being actively poisoned every single day by his own private physician.
The realization hit him like a freight train crashing into a brick wall.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway before he could say a word to the little girl.
Camille Ashwood glided into the library in a stunning emerald dress.
"Is the housekeeper's brat bothering you again, darling?" Camille asked with a cruel sneer.
Massimo quickly clenched his fist, burying the lethal pill deep inside his palm.
He forced his facial muscles to relax into a mask of total indifference.
"She was just leaving, Camille," Massimo replied in a hollow, defeated voice.
He watched his beautiful fiancé pour a glass of expensive wine.
He needed to smuggle this pill to an outside chemist immediately.
If Doctor Hale was deliberately keeping him paralyzed, someone immensely powerful was paying him to do it.
Massimo pulled his phone from his pocket beneath his wool blanket.
He typed out a coded text message to the only man in New York he still trusted.
May you like
He hit send just as a large shadow fell over his wheelchair.
Dean Foster stood right behind him, staring down at the glowing phone screen with narrowed eyes.
