flash
HE WAS BOUND TO A WHEELCHAIR FOR 12 YEARS BY A DEADLY LIE. THEN HIS DAUGHTER TOUCHED HIS KNEE AND UNLOCKED A MAFIA WAR! / Chapter 4 / 20

Chapter 4 - A TRAP DIPPED IN SILVER

The response from Marcus Sterling was swift and ruthless. Instead of confronting Luca directly, he chose a subtle execution.

The next afternoon, Dr. Thorne entered the study carrying a silver tray with a new IV drip bag. His face was a mask of professional calm, though a slight twitch near his left eye betrayed his nervousness.

"Mr. Costello," Thorne said smoothly. "Given your recent complaints of muscle spasms, I've prepared a high-dose neuro-calmative. It should ease the discomfort in your spine."

Luca watched the doctor closely. Thanks to Tommy, who had tipped off Arthur about the surveillance box near the baseball field, Luca now knew the estate was compromised. He had already tested a sample of his previous drip using a chemical testing kit smuggled in by Arthur: it was loaded with the neurotoxin.

"Set it down, Doctor," Luca said mildly.

Thorne hung the bag on the metal stand and reached for Luca’s arm to insert the needle. "This will only take a moment, sir."

"Tell me, Thorne," Luca said, his voice deadly quiet. "How much is Marcus paying you to keep me paralyzed? Is it a monthly retainer, or did he promise you a lump sum once I finally stopped breathing altogether?"

Thorne froze. The syringe in his hand trembled. "I... I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Costello. I am a medical professional—"

Before Thorne could finish his sentence, Luca’s hand shot out like a strike of lightning. He grabbed Thorne by the throat, snatching the syringe with his other hand and slamming the doctor’s head down onto the heavy mahogany desk.

"Twelve years!" Luca roared, his voice echoing off the walls. "Twelve years of my life stolen! My daughter raised without a father! My syndicate run by snakes!"

Thorne choked, his eyes bulging in terror as Luca pressed the needle directly against the doctor’s jugular vein.

"Speak!" Luca commanded. "Who else is involved?"

"It... it wasn't just Marcus!" Thorne wheezed, gasping for air. "It was the syndicate board! The six captains... they all agreed to keep you crippled! Marcus gave them higher cuts of the dock operations in exchange for their silence! If you wake up, they all fall!"

May you like

The audio file on Marina’s phone was timestamped three minutes ago. Ignacio’s thumb hovered over the screen, trembling so violently he nearly dropped the device into the crib.

The audio file on Marina’s phone was timestamped three minutes ago. Igna...

My Husband Stabbed Me Twice for the Woman He Never Got Over—Three Days Later, My Doctor Showed Him Our Twins

My Husband Stabbed Me Twice for the Woman He Never Got Over—Three Days L...

The hangover hit Mateo like a freight train at sunrise. Sunlight filtered through the velvet curtains of the luxury hotel suite, burning his eyes. Beside him, Valeria was still asleep, smelling of cheap neon cocktails and expensive perfume. Mateo groaned, reaching for his phone on the nightstand.

The hangover hit Mateo like a freight train at sunrise. Sunlight filtere...

Luca shoved Thorne back into the leather chair. "Arthur!" he called out.

The side door opened, and Arthur stepped in with two armed enforcers. "Take him to the basement vault," Luca ordered. "Keep him alive. He is my witness."

Share

X Facebook Reddit LinkedIn WhatsApp Telegram Email

Other posts

Isabella’s artificial tears gleamed under the soft golden chandeliers of the private VIP suite, her hands trembling with a performance worthy of a grand stage. She gestured wildly toward Khloe, who lay crumpled on the cold marble, her white silk dress torn and stained with drops of spilled champagne. Marcus stood frozen in the doorway,

Aug 27, 2026

Isabella’s artificial tears gleamed under the soft golden chandeliers of the private VIP s...

The silver picture frame shattered into a hundred jagged pieces across the hardwood floor, but no one in the room moved to pick up the glass. Little Sophie’s trembling body pressed so hard against Mark’s chest that he could feel the frantic, rabbit-fast thumping of her tiny heart through his suit jacket. Her small fingernails dug into his collar, white-knuckled, tears streaking through the light dust on her cheeks.

Jul 21, 2026

The silver picture frame shattered into a hundred jagged pieces across the hardwood floor,...

The hospital room smelled sharply of bleach and antiseptic, a stark contrast to the suffocating scent of the white roses scattered across the linoleum floor. Flynn remained frozen beside the bed, his broad shoulders slumped, the formidable CEO of Vance Global reduced to a hollow, trembling shell.

May 31, 2026

The hospital room smelled sharply of bleach and antiseptic, a stark contrast to the suffoc...

Arthur Sterling tapped his leather-wrapped fingers against the steering wheel of his matte-black Bentley, staring at the imposing wrought-iron gates of his own estate. To the world, the Sterling name was synonymous with untouchable wealth, bleeding-edge tech investments, and a picture-perfect modern family. But as the automated gates slid open with a soft, expensive hum, Arthur didn't feel like a master of a universe; he felt like a stranger walking into a trap he had built with his own hands.

Jun 18, 2026

Arthur Sterling tapped his leather-wrapped fingers against the steering wheel of his matte...

The sound hung in the air, rhythmic and deliberate—tap, tap, tap—reverberating directly through the plaster of the master bedroom's walk-in closet wall.

Jun 29, 2026

The sound hung in the air, rhythmic and deliberate—tap, tap, tap—reverberating directly th...

The wind on the balcony was sharp, carrying the bitter, fish-heavy tang of the Boston Harbor. It hit Dileia like a physical blow, cutting right through the thin polyester of her service uniform. She shivered, though she refused to wrap her arms around herself. Doing so would look like weakness, and tonight, weakness was a currency she couldn't afford to spend.

Jun 05, 2026

The wind on the balcony was sharp, carrying the bitter, fish-heavy tang of the Boston Harb...

The midday heat of the Vulkoff estate did nothing to cool the chill that had settled into Alina’s chest. For two years, she had been a ghost in the machine—silent, compliant, invisible. But the casual strength of Damon Vulkoff’s grip on her wrist had broken the spell. That afternoon, scrubbing the heavy oak tables in the secondary pantry, her mind kept looping back to his office. He hadn't just saved his papers; he had felt her pulse. She knew he had. His fingers had lingered over her radial artery just long enough to register the frantic, terrified spike of her heartbeat.

Aug 09, 2026

The midday heat of the Vulkoff estate did nothing to cool the chill that had settled into...

Lena Marchetti did not sleep that night. By dawn, Dante Varlli's file lay surrounded by color-coded sticky notes, three potential candidate profiles, and a creeping sense of professional dread. Finding a wife for a man like Dante was not matchmaking; it was assembling a diplomatic hostage.

Aug 22, 2026

Lena Marchetti did not sleep that night. By dawn, Dante Varlli's file lay surrounded by co...