Chapter 3 - The Ambush in Suite 58Ten minutes later, the heavy brass handles of the master suite double doors turned quietly.
Dr. Adrian Vale stepped into the room first. He was fifty, wearing a sharp grey suit beneath a white lab coat, carrying a leather medical bag. Behind him stepped Vincent Moretti—thirty-four, dark-haired, impeccably dressed, with a condescending smile that radiated unearned authority.
Behind Vincent stood two broad-shouldered guards carrying concealed weapons.
"Luca," Vincent spoke smoothly, stepping over the plush rug toward the bed. "Where is he? Dr. Vale brought a specialized sedative to help him rest."
"He doesn't need a sedative, Vincent," a voice spoke from the corner of the room.
Vincent and Dr. Vale froze.
I stepped out from behind the shadow of the IV stand, my arms crossed, holding the stainless-steel basin containing the extracted metallic cylinder.
At the same moment, the covers on the bed shifted.
Gabriel Moretti sat up slowly, his broad shoulders squared, his storm-gray eyes locked onto his cousin with an absolute, terrifying coldness that made the temperature in the room plunge.
Though still recovering, Gabriel radiated the raw, untouchable authority of Chicago’s most feared Don.
Vincent took an involuntary step back, his face going paper-white. "G-Gabriel...? You're... you're awake?"
"You look disappointed, cousin," Gabriel said, his baritone dropping into a subsonic rumble. "Did you expect Dr. Vale’s little gift to finish the job tonight?"
Dr. Vale turned to sprint toward the double doors, but Luca Ferraro stepped out from the hallway, pulling his heavy 9mm sidearm, racking the slide with a sharp, loud CLACK.
"Move, and I'll put a bullet through your kneecap, Doctor," Luca warned flatly.
Vincent thrashed his head around, looking frantically at his two guards. "SHOOT THEM! DO SOMETHING!"
BOOM!
The doors to the private balcony behind Vincent blew open as four armed Vance Security operatives—led by Chief Security Director Marcus Vance—swarmed into the penthouse with tactical rifles raised!
"Vance Security! Nobody move!" Marcus Vance’s deep voice thundered through the suite.
Within three seconds, Vincent’s two guards were disarmed and slammed flat against the marble floor, while Dr. Vale dropped to his knees, trembling violently.
Vincent thrashed against Marcus Vance’s grip, his manicured face twisted in panic. "GABRIEL! THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! YOU CAN'T TRUST THIS NURSE! SHE'S AN SET-UP!"
Gabriel didn't even raise his voice. He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed. Though his lower body was still weak, his feet touched the floorboards, supported by the sheer power of his will.
"Claire," Gabriel said softly, without looking at Vincent. "What was inside that basin?"
I stepped forward, sliding the basin onto the table before Dr. Vale’s pale face.
"A surgical micro-drain stuffed with a toxin that compresses the spinal nerve roots," I explained calmly for the legal record. "Dr. Vale inserted it during the secondary procedure. It was designed to cause gradual paralysis and fatal sepsis within seventy-two hours."
Marcus Vance produced a digital recorder, certified court seals, and federal arrest warrants:
ATTEMPTED MURDER & TERRORISM: Federal indictments served on Dr. Adrian Vale and Vincent Moretti for the targeted poisoning of Gabriel Moretti.
CORPORATE SEIZURE: Immediate revocation of all proxy voting rights held by Vincent Moretti over Moretti Global Enterprises.
ARREST NOTICES: Federal marshals waiting in the lobby to process both men into federal holding without bail.
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"Take them out," Gabriel ordered flatly.
"GABRIEL! PLEASE!" Vincent shrieked as Marcus Vance's team dragged him and Dr. Vale out of the penthouse in total, public disgrace, their hysterical pleas echoing down the elevator shaft.
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