Chapter 5 - The Last Resort
Two days later, at precisely 3:00 p.m., Elena Vance arrived at the Highland Park estate.
She wore a cream cashmere coat, her blonde hair styled in a flawless chignon, holding a polished silver case in her manicured hands. She walked through the heavy iron gates with the effortless grace of a queen visiting her domain.
Dominic met her in the grand foyer.
“Darling!” Elena smiled, stepping forward to press a light kiss against his cheek. She smelled of white jasmine and expensive champagne. “You look exhausted. You’ve been working too hard in that drafty office.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Dominic said, his voice carefully neutral as he looked down at the silver case in her hands. “What’s that?”
Elena’s smile widened, radiant and practiced. “Oh, I’m so glad you asked! I spoke with my father’s old friend, Dr. Aris Thorne—he’s a pioneer in pediatric neuro-rehabilitation out of Zurich. I managed to convince him to review Eli’s case files. He sent me an experimental peptide serum—the absolute last resort for children suffering from locked-in trauma states.”
Dominic’s stomach twisted into a knot of pure, murderous rage. The last resort. She was going to administer a massive, terminal dose disguised as a miracle cure.
“Where is Maeve?” Elena asked, glancing down the hallway toward the east wing with a flicker of annoyance. “I noticed that odd little nurse is still lingering around. Honestly, Dominic, she lacks the proper pedigree for a house like this. I brought a qualified pediatric specialist from downtown to administer Dr. Thorne’s serum today.”
At that exact moment, the heavy double doors of the east hallway opened.
Maeve Carter walked out, wearing her gray apron, her hair pinned neatly at her neck. She carried a stainless-steel medical tray containing empty vials and sterile cotton balls.
Elena’s expression hardened instantly. “Ah, Miss Carter. Just the person I wanted to see. You can take a break now. My specialist is here to take over Eli’s care for the afternoon.”
Maeve stopped five feet away. Her green eyes met Elena’s with a chilling, absolute stillness.
“Mr. Kane hasn’t authorized an outside specialist,” Maeve said smoothly.
“Mr. Kane trusts my judgment,” Elena retorted, her voice losing its honeyed sweetness, revealing the sharp, entitled edge beneath. “And as the future mistress of this estate, I am telling you to step aside.”
Dominic stepped between them.
The air in the foyer went dead silent. Even the estate guards stationed near the front doors held their breath.
“No,” Dominic said.
Elena blinked, her smile faltering. “Pardon?”
“You heard me, Elena,” Dominic said, his gray eyes locking onto hers with a terrifying, unblinking intensity. “No outside specialists. No experimental serums. And no more food brought from outside this estate.”
Elena’s face paled beneath her carefully applied powder. “Dominic... what are you saying? I’m trying to help your son! After everything I’ve done—all the hours I’ve spent trying to bring light into this gloomy house—you’re listening to a disgraced, fired nurse over me?”
“I am listening to the truth,” Dominic said quietly. He reached out and gently took the silver case from her hands, popping the latch. Inside rested a single, pre-filled glass syringe containing a clear, viscous fluid.
“Take your specialist and get off my property, Elena,” Dominic said. “And tell your father his judicial immunity won't save him when I hand the federal prosecutor the chemical analysis of every meal you’ve served in this house.”
Elena staggered back a step, the mask completely shattering. Fear—raw, primal, and absolute—flashed across her features. She realized in that single second that the gangster she thought she was manipulating had already figured out the entire endgame.
“You’re making a catastrophic mistake,” Elena hissed, her voice trembling with venom as she turned toward the heavy oak doors. “My father will destroy you. He’ll take your fortune, your business, your house, and whatever is left of your miserable family!”
“Let him try,” Dominic replied softly.
As Dante and two enforcers escorted Elena out through the gates, Dominic turned back to Maeve.
Maeve stood by the hallway entrance, her hands resting quietly on the apron strings. She looked tired, but for the first time since she had walked through the iron gates, the tension in her shoulders was entirely gone.
“You knew she’d try to accelerate it once she realized we were watching,” Dominic said.
“Desperate people make sloppy mistakes,” Maeve replied evenly. “She knew your toxicology team would eventually catch the cumulative traces in Eli’s system. She had to finish it today.”
Dominic walked slowly toward her, stopping just an arm’s length away. Up close, he could see the small scar above her left eyebrow—the mark left behind when she had been beaten down by hospital administrators for trying to save children who didn't belong to her.
“Why did you stay, Maeve?” Dominic asked, his voice rough. “You knew who I was. You knew what my name meant in this city. You could have walked away after the first week.”
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Maeve looked up into his gray eyes, her green gaze unshakeable.
“Because,” she said softly, “nobody protected my brother when the cartels came for him. And I swore to myself that as long as I had breath in my lungs, no innocent child would ever be left alone in a dark room while monsters tore their world apart.”
