Chapter 4 - Poison on Cold Lips
"Your father let my sister die for fifty thousand dollars," Julian said, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped into the room. "He took bribes from the syndicate to prioritize rich line-cutters while Elena suffocated in the waiting room."
"I was seventeen!" Cora cried, her back hitting the piano keys, a sharp musical discord ringing through the room. "I didn't know! I’ve spent my entire adult life paying off his debts!"
"And now you will pay them off with your skill," Julian growled, closing the distance between them until her chest heaved against his chest. "You will save my men to pay for the life he took."
Before Cora could answer, a sudden crash echoed from the main dining hall downstairs, followed by the muffled sound of suppressed gunfire.
Julian pulled a matte-black pistol from his holster instantly, pushing Cora behind his back. "Stay here."
"No," Cora whispered, seeing the blood already soaking through his crisp white shirt near his ribcage—a opening wound from an earlier skirmish that had torn open. "You're bleeding out, Julian!"
Downstairs, chaos erupted. But it wasn't an assault team—it was an inside job. Julian suddenly stumbled, his knees buckling as he gripped the doorframe. His breathing became ragged, his pupils dilating wildly.
"The scotch..." Julian muttered, his voice fading.
May you like
Cora caught him as he collapsed. She sniffed the spilled amber liquid on the floor. Cyanide derivative. Fast-acting, but slowed by alcohol absorption.
"You're not dying on me," Cora hissed through gritted teeth, dragging the heavy crime boss toward her medical bay. "Not until I clear my name."
