Headline: HE WOKE UP IN A POOL OF BLOOD AND POISON—BUT HIS SAVIOR WAS ONLY FOUR YEARS OLD!

Headline: THE REAL TRAITOR WASN'T AT THE GATE—HE WAS HOLDING THE KEY TO THE SAFE HOUSE!

Alejandro sprinted up the grand staircase three steps at a time, his heart hammering in his chest with a fury worse than the poison.

"Julian!" Alejandro roared into his radio. "Julian, respond!"

Silence. Only heavy static answered.

Alejandro rounded the corner of the second-floor hallway, his guns raised. The double doors leading to the master suite were hanging off their hinges, blown inward by micro-charges.

Inside the suite, the heavy titanium vault door of the panic room stood wide open.

Standing in the doorway was Julian.

He was no longer trembling. He was no longer panicked. He stood tall, holding a suppressed pistol in his right hand, a cold, calculating smile on his face. Behind him, tied to chairs inside the vault, were Maria and little Emma, mouth taped shut, eyes wide with fear.

Beside Julian stood three elite mercenaries dressed in unmarked black tactical gear, armed with submachine guns.

Alejandro stopped dead in his tracks ten paces away, his weapons leveled directly at Julian’s head.

"Julian," Alejandro said, his voice dropping into a register so low and dangerous it seemed to shake the room. "Put the gun down."

Julian chuckled—a cruel, mocking sound that made Alejandro’s stomach turn.

"I have to admit, Alejandro... I was genuinely impressed," Julian said smoothly, stepping in front of Emma. "I spent six months planning your perfect, silent murder. The exact dose of peanut protein, mixed with synthetic curare—invisible, undetectable, mimics a cardiac arrest. You were supposed to die quietly while I watched from my phone in the next room."

"And the camera..." Alejandro realization dawned. "The camera was yours."

"Of course it was mine!" Julian spat, his polite demeanor vanishing into raw venom. "I needed proof for the Commission! I needed them to see you gasping for air so they would appoint me as the new Don of the Moretti family!"

"I loved you like a brother, Julian," Alejandro said, his eyes burning. "I gave you power, wealth, respect!"

"You gave me scraps!" Julian shouted, his face contorting with years of hidden envy. "I built your financial network! I laundered your billions! And what did I get? I stayed in your shadow! While you moped over your dead daughter for three years, I ran this empire!"

Julian pointed his weapon directly at Emma’s forehead.

"And then this filthy little maid’s brat ruined everything," Julian snarled. "She had to play hero with her little pink toy. She dragged you back from the brink of hell."

Maria thrashed against her ropes, sobbing hysterically behind her tape, trying to shield her daughter with her body.

"Let the child go, Julian," Alejandro demanded, taking a slow step forward. "This is between you and me. You want the crown? Take it from me like a man."

"Oh, I will take it," Julian grinned sinisterly. "But first, I'm going to make you watch what happens when someone interferes with my plans. You lost one daughter three years ago, Alejandro. Let's see how your heart handles losing another."