Chapter 7 - The Bluff
My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched Margaret’s thumb hover over the plunger of the syringe. Noah let out a faint, painful moan, his head shifting slightly against the back of the chair. He was fading fast.
Ethan’s eyes flicked from Margaret to the syringe, then back to Margaret. For a agonizing second, the formidable mafia boss hesitated. The absolute power he commanded meant nothing against the life of his son.
Slowly, deliberately, Ethan began to lower his weapon.
“That’s it,” Margaret purred, a manic gleam in her eyes. “Drop it on the ground and kick it toward the fountain.”
“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” Ethan’s voice cut through the damp air, steady and cold as ice. He didn’t drop the gun completely; instead, his posture shifted.
Margaret frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You spent four years poisoning my son, monitoring his chart, hiding bottles behind bottles,” Ethan said, taking a slow step forward. “You studied every detail of his medical file. But you missed the one thing I changed yesterday morning.”
Margaret’s thumb froze on the plunger. “What... what are you talking about?”
“When Clara showed me those photographs in the courtyard, I didn't just lock the gates,” Ethan continued, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp cadence. “I had my private physician switch the contents of that medical cabinet two hours before you blew up the library.”
Margaret’s face paled instantly. “Liar.”
“Am I?” Ethan smiled—a terrifying, predatory smile. “That syringe in your hand isn't loaded with a lethal paralytic, Margaret. It’s loaded with a heavy-duty saline solution and industrial-grade livestock tranquilizer. The moment you push that plunger, Noah will fall into a deep, harmless sleep, and the chemical sensors my men installed in this glasshouse will instantly lock onto your location for the federal strike team currently surrounding the perimeter.”
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Panic flickered across Margaret’s face. She looked down at the syringe, her hands trembling. “No... that’s impossible. I checked the cabinet myself!”
“You checked the decoy cabinet,” I chimed in, stepping out from the shadows beside Ethan to increase the psychological pressure. “The real evidence was already in Ethan’s hands before you even reached the stairs.”
