Chapter 4 - The Ambush
The timeline accelerated on a rainy Tuesday. Uncle Vincent grew impatient.
He dismissed the guards outside Elias’s room and walked in himself, flanked by Marcus. Vincent held a syringe in his hand—a lethal dose of potassium chloride meant to look like a sudden, tragic heart attack.
"Time to go, Nurse," Vincent said coldly, stepping toward the bed where Elias lay perfectly still under the covers. "The family needs a private moment."
"No," I said, standing my ground between the two mafia heavyweights and the bed.
Marcus laughed, reaching out to shove me aside. "Move, sweetheart. He's a dead man anyway."
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Marcus never finished his sentence.
The blankets exploded upward. Elias didn't just sit up; he launched himself from the mattress with the terrifying speed of an apex predator that had been uncaged. In one fluid motion, he disarmed Vincent, snapping the older man’s wrist, and drove Marcus into the wall so hard the plaster cracked.
