The Mafia Boss’s Son Screamed In Pain—Then The Nurse Cut Open His Pillow And Found Poisoned Needles Inside

The next forty-eight hours passed in a controlled, terrifying blur for the Costello estate.

Dr. Harrison Reed was quietly transferred to federal custody before dawn, his medical license revoked, his assets frozen, and his co-conspirators in the pharmaceutical distribution network identified and dismantled by Dominic’s underground network before they even realized Reed had been compromised.

Victoria Costello remained locked in the West Vault, her family’s frantic legal threats neutralized by Dominic’s team of high-priced attorneys armed with ironclad evidence of child endangerment and attempted murder.

Inside the west wing of the mansion, however, the atmosphere was healing.

Arthur’s fever had broken completely. The poison was out of his system, flushed clean by Dr. Sean Vance—the trusted private physician Dominic had brought in to oversee his son's recovery. The boy sat propped up in a new, standard cotton-filled bed, laughing as Fiona taught him how to fold paper airplanes and sail them across the hardwood floor.

Dominic stood in the doorway of the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, watching them.

The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, but the paralyzing fear that had gripped him two nights ago was gone, replaced by a quiet, steady resolve.

“Airplane away!” Arthur cheered as a red paper jet glided gracefully across the room and landed near Dominic’s shoe.

Dominic smiled, bending down to pick up the paper plane. He walked over, knelt beside his son, and handed it back.

“Good shot, pilot,” Dominic said, ruffling the boy’s dark hair. “How’s the neck feeling today?”

“It doesn’t itch anymore, Daddy,” Arthur beamed. “And I didn’t have any bad dreams last night. Fiona stayed right in the chair beside me.”

Dominic looked up, his icy blue eyes meeting Fiona’s across the room. There was a quiet intensity in his gaze that made her breath catch.

“Thank you for that,” Dominic said softly to her when Arthur momentarily turned his attention back to his toys.

“I told you, Mr. Costello, it’s my job,” Fiona replied, though the words felt inadequate now.

“No,” Dominic stood up, stepping closer to her. “You saved my son’s life. You protected him when everyone else in this house—everyone I trusted—was failing him. In my world, that creates a debt that can never truly be repaid.”

“I don’t want repayment,” Fiona said honestly. “I just want to make sure he’s safe.”

“He is safe,” Dominic promised, his voice dropping into a low, rumbling timbre. “And so are you. Because what happened two nights ago wasn’t an isolated incident. It was an inside job backed by people who wanted to hurt me by destroying the thing I love most.”

Fiona frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

Before Dominic could answer, his private secure phone buzzed sharply in his pocket.

He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression hardened instantly.

“Elias,” Dominic answered into the device.

“Boss,” Elias’s voice came through the encrypted channel, tense and urgent. “We have a problem at the North Gate perimeter. A black unmarked van just dropped off a package at the main security post and sped away toward the highway.”