Chapter 3 - Framed by the Blade
“Don't shoot!” Maeve shouted, dropping to her knees beside Dante’s twitching body, keeping her hands visibly raised. “I didn't poison him! Look at his collar!”
Dante lay on the tile floor, his eyes rolling back into his head, dark foam beginning to gather at the corners of his mouth. His pulse was racing at a lethal two hundred beats per minute as the transdermal nerve agent flooded his central nervous system.
Geno stepped forward, his face twisted in rage, the barrel of his gun pressing directly against Maeve’s forehead. Cold steel bit into her skin.
“You’re a plant,” Geno growled, his finger tightening on the trigger. “The Moretti family paid you to put something in his coffee.”
“Check the cup!” Maeve screamed, her voice cutting through the panic in the room with absolute authority. “Check the coffee! It’s untouched! He touched my sleeve—the chemical was on the dog’s coat!”
Geno hesitated, his eyes flicking to the paper cup sitting untouched on the counter.
“He has less than ninety seconds before his throat closes completely!” Maeve urged frantically, looking Geno straight in the eye. “I have atropine and pralidoxime in my emergency crash cart! If you pull that trigger, Dante dies right here on this floor, and you let the real killer walk away!”
Geno’s breath was ragged. He looked down at his dying master, then back at the fearless veterinarian kneeling in front of him.
“Save him,” Geno barked, stepping back but keeping the gun leveled at her heart. “If he stops breathing, you’re dead.”
Maeve didn't hesitate. She scrambled across the floor to the red crash cart, throwing open the bottom drawer. She pulled out two large vials of atropine sulfate—a standard emergency medication kept in veterinary clinics for organophosphate insecticide poisonings in dogs—and a heavy auto-injector syringe.
She snapped the glass necks of the vials, drew the maximum dosage into the syringe, and sprinted back to Dante.
She ripped open his silk shirt, exposing his broad, scarred chest, and drove the heavy needle directly into his thigh muscle.
THUMP.
Dante’s body jolted violently.
For ten agonizing seconds, nothing happened. The sound of the wind howling outside was the only noise in the suffocating room.
Then, Dante let out a long, ragged gasp. The foam at his lips bubbled away as his constricted airway snapped open. His heart rate slowly began to decline, the cardiac monitor on the wall beeping in a steady, albeit weak, rhythm.
Geno let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for years. He lowered his gun an inch.
Before anyone could speak, headlights flashed red across the frosted clinic windows.
The front door chimed again.
Julian Caruso walked into the hallway, flanked by four broad-shouldered men carrying tactical submachine guns. He was no longer spinning his car keys. His expression was cold, triumphant, and utterly devoid of family loyalty.
“Is it done?” Julian asked, stepping over the threshold.
He stopped, his eyes landing on Dante, who was shivering on the floor, breathing shallowly, but alive.
Julian’s face darkened instantly.
“What is this?” Julian snapped, looking at Geno. “Why isn't she dead? She just tried to assassinate the Don!”
“She saved him, Julian,” Geno said, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the four armed men behind the young capo. “She used an antidote.”
Julian pulled a silver pistol from his belt and aimed it straight at Maeve’s chest.
“She’s a assassin hired by our enemies,” Julian declared smoothly, his voice cold as ice. “She used her clinic as a trap. Kill her, Geno. Take the dog and put it down. I’m taking command of the family as of right now.”
Maeve looked at Julian, the missing pieces of the puzzle suddenly falling into place with terrifying clarity.
“You tortured Argos,” Maeve said, her voice trembling with pure disgust. “You smeared the nerve agent on his coat, burned him, and abandoned him where you knew I’d find him. You knew I’d call Dante. You knew Dante would come here, touch the dog, or touch me...”
Maeve looked at Geno.
“I wasn't supposed to be a witness,” Maeve revealed, her voice ringing clear. “I was supposed to be the murder weapon. He used the dog to poison your boss, knowing you’d execute me on the spot for Dante’s murder, leaving no paper trail back to him!”
Julian’s jaw clenched. “Shut your mouth, bitch.”
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“Geno...” Dante’s raspy, broken voice suddenly echoed from the floor. Dante’s eyes were half-open, staring up at his nephew with pure, unadulterated fury. “Geno... protect... the doctor...”
Geno didn't hesitate. He raised his handgun and fired three rounds directly into the chest of Julian’s lead hitman.
