Chapter 4
Within ninety seconds, the heavy mahogany doors of the ballroom swung open, and Dr. Harris stepped inside. He was a distinguished man in his late fifties, wearing an elegant dark suit that matched his calm, intelligent demeanor. As the Moretti family’s trusted private physician, he was highly experienced in handling the unique and dangerous emergencies that accompanied Dominic’s world. He carried a compact, silver-cased medical testing kit, his fair skin pale with sharp alertness.
"Dominic, what is the situation?" Dr. Harris asked, his American accent crisp and professional as he approached the head of the table. He barely glanced at the wealthy guests, his eyes immediately locking onto the ruined cake on the marble floor.
"Lily believes someone tampered with Ethan’s portion of the cake while it was in the service corridor," Dominic explained, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his white suit pristine, radiating a terrifying calmness. "I need you to test it. Right now."
Dr. Harris did not ask questions. He didn't dismiss the word of a three-year-old child. He knew Dominic’s instincts were legendary, and if the Boss took it seriously, it was a matter of life and death. He knelt on the floor beside the splattered frosting, opening his silver kit with swift, precise movements.
Elena pulled Lily back, wrapping her arms tightly around the little girl in the yellow dress. "Shh, it’s okay, baby. Dr. Harris is going to check it," Elena whispered, kissing the top of Lily's curly brown hair.
Ethan watched nervously from his chair, his small hands gripping the fabric of his navy trousers. "Is it poison, Dr. Harris?" the young boy asked, his voice shaking.
"Let's not jump to conclusions, Ethan," Dr. Harris replied soothingly, pulling a pair of latex gloves from his kit. "I am just running a rapid chemical reagent test. It will tell us if there are any foreign compounds in the sugar."
The ballroom was agonizingly silent. The bright cinematic lighting reflected off the polished marble as the physician used a small scalpel to scrape a thick sample of the vanilla frosting into a clear glass vial. He added three drops of a clear liquid from his kit, shook the vial gently, and waited.
Dominic watched closely, his pale eyes unblinking. His intense, commanding presence seemed to suck the oxygen out of the room. He was calculating every possible enemy, every rival family, every traitor who could have slipped past his extensive security detail.
The liquid in the glass vial remained clear for exactly ten seconds. Then, slowly, it began to turn a sickly, vibrant shade of violet.
Dr. Harris stopped moving. He stared at the vial, his calm expression hardening into grim realization. He looked up, his eyes meeting Dominic’s.
"Well?" Dominic demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
Dr. Harris stood up, removing his gloves and dropping them into a biohazard bag. He looked at Ethan, then back to the Mafia Boss. The physician’s face was serious, his tone absolute.
"Positive," Dr. Harris said firmly, holding the violet vial up to the light. "It is a highly concentrated, fast-acting neurotoxin. It’s designed to mimic cardiac arrest in children."
He turned his gaze down to the tiny girl in the yellow dress, profound gratitude in his eyes. "Ethan cannot eat this. If he had taken even one bite of that frosting, he would have been dead before I could reach the room."
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A collective gasp of horror swept through the guests. Elena covered her mouth, sobbing silently into her hands as she realized how close the young boy had come to dying.
Dominic did not gasp. He did not yell. He simply closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, the light stubble on his jaw bristling as his teeth ground together. When he opened his eyes, the father was completely gone. Only the monster remained.
