Chapter 9 - The Judas Unveiled
Marcus froze instantly, his hands hovering awkwardly near his waist. The remaining loyal bodyguards in the room reacted with terrifying speed. Within a second, four handguns were drawn from concealed holsters, the black metal gleaming under the chandeliers, all aimed directly at Marcus’s chest.
"Hands away from your jacket! Now!" the head of security barked, advancing on Marcus with his weapon raised.
"Dominic, I swear to God!" Marcus pleaded, his voice breaking into a high-pitched, desperate whine. "It wasn't me! Someone else must have stolen a pin! You can't trust the word of a three-year-old!"
Dominic took a slow, deliberate step across the polished marble floor. His pristine white shoes stepped flawlessly over the shattered china. He stopped three feet away from the trembling guard. His towering, deeply masculine presence entirely eclipsed the traitor.
"Search him," Dominic ordered, his voice cold and flat.
Two bodyguards holstered their weapons and grabbed Marcus, slamming him roughly against the mahogany-paneled wall. They pinned his arms behind his back, ignoring his frantic protests, while a third guard began a rapid, aggressive pat-down of his tailored dark suit.
Ethan watched from behind his father’s massive frame, his gentle face pale with fear. Elena held Lily tightly against her, covering the child’s eyes, desperate to shield her from the violence she had just initiated.
"Nothing on his waist, Boss," the searching guard reported, moving his hands up to Marcus’s chest. He patted the exterior of the suit jacket, then reached inside the inner breast pocket.
The guard stopped. His expression hardened.
He pulled his hand out of the pocket and turned slowly toward Dominic.
Resting in the center of the bodyguard’s palm was a small, sleek silver box.
A collective gasp echoed through the locked ballroom. The cinematic lighting caught the metallic sheen of the box, confirming the horrific truth of Lily’s observation. The evidence was undeniable.
"Bring it to Dr. Harris," Dominic commanded without breaking eye contact with Marcus.
The bodyguard walked over and handed the silver box to the physician. Dr. Harris, maintaining his clinical composure despite the adrenaline surging through his veins, placed the box on the edge of the dining table. He used his gloved hands to carefully pry the lid open. Inside lay a small trace of fine, crystalline white powder.
Dr. Harris quickly swabbed the powder, dropping it into a fresh vial of clear reagent from his testing kit. The entire room watched in breathless anticipation. Within seconds, the liquid turned the exact same vibrant, sickly shade of deep violet.
"It’s a perfect match, Dominic," Dr. Harris confirmed, closing the silver box with a sharp snap. "This is the source of the neurotoxin."
Marcus stopped struggling against the wall. His shoulders slumped, the defiance draining completely from his body as the irrefutable evidence sealed his fate. He looked at Dominic, his eyes wide with a manic, primal terror.
"You smiled at my son," Dominic said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly whisper. "You wished him a happy birthday. And then you walked into the shadows to murder him."
"Dominic, please, you have to listen to me!" Marcus wept, his knees buckling, held upright only by the men pinning him. "They threatened my family! They said if I didn't do it, my wife and kids would be dead by morning! I had no choice!"
"There is always a choice," Dominic replied, stepping closer until he was inches from the traitor's face. "You could have come to me. I would have protected your family, and I would have slaughtered the men threatening you. Instead, you chose betrayal."
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"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Marcus sobbed violently.
"Who gave you the order?" Dominic demanded, the calm facade finally fracturing to reveal the boiling rage beneath. "Give me a name, Marcus. Give me the name, and I will make your end quick."
