Chapter 5 - THE FIRST STEP OF VENGEANCEBefore Dr. Cole’s fingers could even wrap around the grip of his weapon, the heavy mahogany study doors flew open with a deafening crash.
Bruno stepped into the room like a charging locomotive, followed by three heavily armed enforcers. Before Cole could blink, Bruno’s massive fist struck the doctor squarely across the jaw, sending him flying backward onto the Persian rug. The leather medical bag shattered open, spilling syringes and vials across the floor in a chaotic mess.
Cole groaned, spitting blood onto the crimson carpet, clutching his broken nose.
Domenico rolled forward, stopping inches from the terrified doctor. He looked down at the man who had poisoned him for half a year, his expression completely devoid of mercy.
"You thought I was trapped," Domenico said quietly, his voice like grinding ice. "You thought because my legs didn't move, my mind was dead too."
"You... you can't touch me," Cole sputtered, gasping for air. "Silvio will kill you! The entire syndicate will tear this mansion apart brick by brick!"
"Let them try," Domenico replied coldly. He signaled to Bruno. "Tie him up, lock him in the basement wine cellar, and make sure he has plenty of time to contemplate his Hippocratic oath. We have a wedding to prepare for."
As Bruno hoisted the screaming doctor up by his collar and dragged him out of the room, Domenico sat in silence. He closed his eyes and focused entirely on his own body.
Dr. Palermo had warned him: stopping the poison meant the antidote would have to fight its way through every nerve ending. A sudden, searing wave of white-hot agony shot up from his heels, racing through his calves, burning like liquid fire straight into his spine.
Domenico gasped, gripping the armrests so hard the wood splintered beneath his fingers. Cold sweat poured down his forehead. Every muscle fiber in his legs screamed in violent protest as the chemical locks shattered one by one.
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He didn't scream. He clenched his teeth until his gums bled, a dark, triumphant smile slowly spreading across his lips.
Wake up, a small, childish voice echoed in his memory. Your feet are only sleeping.
