Chapter 4 - A Dinner of Poison"You think you can pull that trigger?" Isabella asked, tilting her head. Her composure was staggering. Even staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, she looked like she was ordering coffee at a Parisian café. "If you kill me, the dead-man switch on my laptop goes off. Within sixty seconds, every bank account,
I stared at her. For twenty years, I had survived by eliminating threats before they could breathe. But looking at her—at the woman who kissed my cheek every morning, who held my children, who slept beside me—I felt a paralyzing weight in my chest.
Not fear. Rage. A cold, black fury that threatened to burn my veins from the inside out.
"Where are my children?" I asked, the words forced through clenched teeth.
"Sleeping soundly," Isabella replied smoothly. "Don't worry, Alessandro. I'm a monster, but I'm not a savage. Mia and Enzo are my children too. They're already on a private flight out of Teterboro Airport. By sunrise, they'll be in Zurich with my brother. You'll never see them again."
The room tilted. My chest seized violently—a sharp, searing pain radiating down my left arm.
No. Not a heart attack. Not tonight.
I staggered back, my hand flying to the wall to steady myself. The Beretta slipped from my fingers, clattering loudly against the hardwood floor.
Isabella's expression softened into a mask of faux concern. She took a step toward me, her voice dropping into that familiar, sweet register she used every morning. "Oh, darling. Did you really think I'd leave your food and drink unmonitored? For the past three months, a slow-release cardiac glycoside. Completely untoxicated in standard autopsies. It mimics a fatal heart attack under stress."
She reached out, gently tapping my chest right over my heart.
"You're already dead, Alessandro. Your body just hasn't caught up yet."
My vision blurred. The walls of the hallway seemed to warp and bend. I collapsed to my knees, gasping for air as the poison paralyzed my nervous system.
Marcus managed to wriggle out from under Max's paw, gasping for breath, clutching his fractured collarbone. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing a heavy bronze statuette from the console table.
"You arrogant bastard," Marcus hissed, his face twisted in rage as he loomed over me. "You treated us like dogs for years. Now it's your turn to go down."
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He raised the heavy bronze statue high above his head, aiming straight for my skull.
Max didn't wait for a command.
