Chapter 4 - The Toxin's Origin
The investigation into the neurotoxin had gone completely off-grid.
Lucas knew he could not trust his own security detail. If the canister in his study had been swapped, it had to have been done by someone with unlimited access and the authority to bypass the security protocols.
That night, Lucas met with Dr. Aris in a private, unmonitored warehouse near the East River docks.
“I ran the chemical analysis through a contact in the federal forensic labs,” Aris said, handing Lucas a secure tablet. “The compound is called Vespir-9. It’s a military-grade organophosphate developed by a covert research facility in Eastern Europe during the late nineties. It was never mass-produced.”
“Who has access to it now?” Lucas asked, staring at the chemical structure on the screen.
“Only three private defense contractors in the US have samples for defense testing,” Aris explained. “One of them is Aegis Security Solutions. They handle the private maritime transport for the Moretti ports.”
Lucas’s breath caught in his throat.
Aegis Security Solutions was a subsidiary company he had set up five years ago. And the man he had put in charge of that subsidiary, the man who personally managed the port contracts and the security details, was Victor Rossi.
“Are you certain?” Lucas asked, his voice dead.
“The batch number matches the shipment cargo logs from Aegis last December,” Aris said quietly. “Lucas… Victor didn't just try to kill you three days ago. If he had access to this compound three years ago…”
The air in the warehouse grew freezing cold.
Three years ago, Isabella and Daniel’s car had plunged off the Brooklyn Bridge after the brakes allegedly failed. The police had ruled it a tragic mechanical malfunction, possibly sabotaged by a rival family. But Lucas had never found the proof he needed to start a war.
“He was my brother,” Lucas whispered, his voice cracking with a pain he had buried deep beneath his armor. “We grew up in the same orphanage. My father brought him into the family. He swore to protect them.”
“He wanted the throne, Lucas,” Aris said. “He always did. But as long as you had an heir, as long as Daniel was alive, Victor would always be a servant. He cleared the board three years ago. And now, he’s trying to finish you off because you’re preparing to legitimize the family assets and walk away.”
Lucas closed his eyes. The memory of Isabella laughing at the piano, of Daniel’s small hand sticky with maple syrup, rushed over him like a wave of boiling water.
He had spent three years mourning an accident.
He had spent three years keeping his executioner at his right hand.
“Do not speak of this to anyone,” Lucas commanded, opening his eyes. They were no longer gray-blue; they were the color of a winter sky before a blizzard. “Let Victor think his plan is still working. Let him think I’m weak.”
May you like
“And the girl?” Aris asked. “And her mother?”
“They are the only reason I am alive to take my revenge,” Lucas said. “Keep them safe, Aris. If anything happens to them before I finish this… I will burn this city to the ground.”
