My Maid Said the Stitches in My Shoulder Were Wrong—Then We Found a Medical Supplier Tag Hidden Inside the Thread.

Gabriel stared at the small blue light pulsing in Elena's palm. The entire scheme became horrifyingly clear. The poison in his shoulder was designed to slowly weaken him, while the wiretaps inside his private suite allowed the traitors to monitor his declining health and strike the moment he was incapacitated.

Gabriel looked at Elena, a faint, dark smile touching his lips. "They thought they were dealing with a dying man. They didn't count on you."

Gabriel leaned down, speaking in a low whisper directly to Elena and Carmine. "We feed them what they want to hear."

Gabriel stepped closer to the microphone, letting out a loud, heavy groan, followed by Carmine shouting in staged panic: "He's going into cardiac arrest! Get the crash cart! Unlock the side security doors!"

Carmine hit the manual release for the side service entrance.

Seconds later, the heavy steel door creaked open. A tall man in a tactical security uniform stepped quietly into the red-lit room, a suppressed pistol held low at his side. It was Marcus.

"Dr. Cole, status—" Marcus began, stepping through the threshold.

He never finished the sentence.

Gabriel stepped out from the shadows like a phantom. With lightning speed, he grabbed Marcus’s armed wrist, twisting it upward until the weapon clattered to the floor, while Carmine slammed the traitor against the wall, disarming him instantly.