Chapter 2 - The Poisoned Witness
The object in Emma’s tiny hand was cold, heavy, and smeared with dark dried blood.
When she pulled it out from the deep pocket of her oversized apron, my breath caught in my throat. It wasn't a toy. It wasn't a picture.
It was a custom-made, solid silver cufflink shaped in the emblem of a crowned raven—the exact crest worn exclusively by the inner circle of the Blackwood syndicate.
Accompanying the cufflink was a torn piece of receipt paper, covered in shaky, frantic handwriting.
"My mommy told me to give you this if she couldn't wake up," Emma whispered, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. "A bad man came to our room last night. He gave mommy a glass of water and told her to sleep forever... but mommy hid under the bed and wrote this note while he was in the bathroom."
My hand trembled as I took the blood-stained note from her fingers.
My eyes scanned the frantic scrawl:
Mr. Blackwood—I saw him. The man who cleans your Bentley. It was Raymond. He put the bomb under your engine. He saw me watching from the garage door. He tracked me home. He poisoned my tea. Please... protect my little girl...
The room went deathly still.
Raymond.
Raymond was my right-hand officer. My childhood friend. The man who stood beside me at my father’s funeral and swore on his life to guard my back.
Seven days ago, when my Bentley exploded at the front gates, Raymond had been the one who pulled me out of the flaming wreckage. He had cried out for a doctor. He had sworn to hunt down whoever did it.
And all along... he was the traitor.
"Mister?" Emma's small, frail voice shattered my dark shock. She tugged softly at my sleeve. "Is my mommy going to wake up?"
A wave of ferocious, white-hot fury erupted through my veins, but as I looked at the fragile, terrified four-year-old girl standing in front of me, I forced every drop of rage down into my chest.
"Yes, Emma," I said, my voice deep, absolute, and filled with a solemn vow. "Your mommy is going to wake up."
I stood up to my full height and slammed my hand onto the intercom button.
"Harold!" I roared through the speaker.
"Yes, Boss?" Harold answered instantly.
"Call Dr. Mercer and the entire critical care team. Have the medical wing prepared within three minutes. Then get my elite tactical unit assembled in the courtyard—armored vehicles, live ammunition."
"Boss? What's happening?"
"Elena Carter was poisoned by an inner-circle operative," I spat cold venom into the mic. "We are retrieving her right now. Anyone who stands in our way dies."
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I turned back to Emma. I took off my heavy cashmere coat, wrapped it completely around her shivering shoulders like a blanket, and picked her up into my arms.
"Hold on tight, little one," I murmured, holding her against my chest. "You're safe now."
