Every Maid Quit After Facing the Paralyzed Mafia Boss—Then She Knelt Beside His Wheelchair and Did What Nobody Else Dared.

Fay waited until Dr. Vance completed his examination and departed through the main foyer.

From the second-floor mezzanine, she watched Carmine escort the doctor to his sedan. Luca stood near the iron gates, speaking quietly into an earpiece. The moment the driveway cleared, Fay moved.

She didn't take a tray. She didn't bring fresh linens. She walked straight to Dominic’s bedroom and pushed the heavy door open without knocking.

Dominic was sitting at his massive mahogany desk, scrolling through an encrypted laptop. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing corded muscle and old scars. When the door opened, his head snapped up, his jaw tightening with immediate fury.

"I didn't call for you," Dominic growled. "And nobody enters this room without knocking."

Fay walked straight to the desk and closed the door behind her with a soft click.

"Who gave you your injection twenty minutes ago, Mr. Corso?"

Dominic stared at her as if she had grown a second head. "What did you say to me?"

"Dr. Vance gave you a sedative," Fay said, her voice completely steady as she stepped closer. "And he's been giving it to you for weeks. Look at your legs, Dominic."

Dominic’s face darkened with dangerous fury. He slammed both palms down on the desk, the sound echoing like thunder. "You insolent little—"

"Look at them!" Fay commanded, raising her voice just enough to cut through his roar. She reached into her apron pocket, pulled out the white tablet stamped *DZ-10*, and slammed it onto the mahogany desk between them.

Dominic stopped. His eyes fell on the pill.

"What is that?"

"It’s not Baclofen," Fay said. "I took it from the trash bin in the pantry. Dr. Vance prescribed you muscle relaxers on paper, but he’s substituting high-potency sedatives. I heard Luca talking to Vance in the hall ten minutes ago. Luca told him to keep you in that chair until the board meeting on the fifteenth."

The air in the room suddenly went dead.

Dominic didn't yell. The color drained from his face, replaced by a cold, calculating stillness that was infinitely more terrifying than his anger. He stared at the pill, then slowly raised his eyes to meet Fay’s.

"Luca?" Dominic asked in a whisper.

"Luca Bennett," Fay said. "He told Vance that Carmine doesn't know chemistry, and that nobody would care about the Corso name after the fifteenth."

Dominic leaned back in his wheelchair. His hands rested on the armrests, his knuckles white. "Luca has been on my perimeter detail for four years. His father was a driver for my grandfather."

"Then his father was loyal. He isn't." Fay leaned over the desk, her hazel eyes fierce. "Do your legs burn at night, Dominic? Does it feel like a heavy weight pressing into your calves, like you can't even lift a toe?"

Dominic swallowed, though his expression remained carved from stone. "The spinal cord was bruised by the blast."

"A bruised cord tingles," Fay said bluntly. "It produces sharp, electric pain. Dead nerves don't twitch the way your leg did this morning. That spasm wasn't nerve damage failing. It was your nervous system fighting against the chemical block. You aren't permanently paralyzed, Dominic. Someone is keeping you crippled."

Dominic sat frozen for three long seconds. The reality hit him with the force of a speeding truck. He looked down at his own lifeless legs, then back at Fay.

"Unlock the bottom drawer of the credenza," Dominic whispered.

"What?"

"The key is under the brass pen holder. Open it."

Fay hurried behind his desk, lifted the heavy pen stand, grabbed the small silver key, and unlocked the heavy credenza behind him. Inside sat an iron lockbox and a thick leather-bound dossier.

"Bring me the red folder," Dominic instructed.

Fay handed it to him. Dominic flipped the pages rapidly until he reached the medical payroll from the private clinic that handled his post-blast surgery. His finger traced a line down the sheet, stopping at a recurring monthly retainer paid out from the Corso foundation.

"Two hundred thousand dollars a month," Dominic murmured. "Paid directly to Vance’s private research firm."

He looked up at Fay, his eyes sharp and burning with life for the first time since the attack.

"We need proof before Carmine kills Vance," Dominic said. "If Carmine finds out Vance is dirty, he'll put a bullet through his head in the driveway, and Vance will never tell us who ordered the hit."

"How do we get proof?" Fay asked.

Dominic pulled an encrypted keycard from his pocket and slid it across the desk toward her.

"Dr. Vance keeps his personal patient log in the medical safe in the basement infirmary. The code changes daily, but this card bypasses the lock." Dominic leaned forward, his gaze locking onto hers with deadly intensity. "Tonight at midnight, when Luca changes shifts, you go down there."

"And if Luca catches me?"