12 world-renowned specialists stood around the city’s most feared man, shaking their heads.

By Saturday afternoon, forty-eight hours after the administration of the Digibind antidote, the transformation inside the master suite was nothing short of a medical miracle.

The dark, suffocating fog that had hung over the room for three weeks had completely lifted. The heavy velvet curtains were pulled back, allowing bright autumn sunlight to flood across the California king bed.

Matteo Costa was sitting up.

He was still thin, his face showing the lingering marks of a man who had walked to the absolute edge of the grave, but his color had returned. His skin was no longer sallow and yellow; his eyes were clear, sharp, and intensely alive.

The heart monitor was gone, replaced by a simple pulse oximeter clipped to his finger. His heart rate was a steady, strong 72 beats per minute.

Dr. Keller stood at the foot of the bed, reviewing fresh lab charts, a massive weight visibly lifted off his shoulders.

"His liver enzymes have stabilized, Enzo," Keller reported, his voice filled with professional triumph. "The digoxin has been completely neutralized and cleared by his kidneys. He will make a full recovery within two weeks."

Matteo leaned back against his plush pillows, sipping a glass of fresh orange juice. He looked at Enzo, who stood beside the bed with his arms crossed.

"And Carlo?" Matteo asked. His voice was no longer a gravelly rasp; the deep, resonant baritone that had commanded the city’s underworld for thirty years was fully back.

"Federal custody," Enzo answered calmly. "The state prosecutor formally indicted him two hours ago based on the financial records and the poison evidence. He’s looking at thirty years minimum. He won't touch a teapot ever again."

Matteo lowered his juice glass, his dark eyes brooding as he digested the betrayal of his own cousin. He let out a long, slow sigh—a mix of sorrow and cold fury.

"Thirty years is too lenient," Matteo muttered. "Make sure his time inside is... uncomfortable."

"Already taken care of," Enzo replied.

Matteo turned his gaze toward the door. "Where is the girl?"

Enzo turned to the guard standing by the door. "Bring her in."

Nia walked into the master suite slowly. She was still wearing her plain gray housekeeping uniform, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun. She felt awkward, conscious of her worn sneakers against the hand-woven Persian rug.

Matteo watched her approach. His dark, sharp eyes took in every detail of the twenty-four-year-old maid who had succeeded where twelve world-class specialists had failed.

"Nia," Matteo spoke her name softly, testing the sound of it.

"Mr. Costa," Nia said respectfully, stopping five feet from the bed, keeping her hands folded in front of her.

Matteo set his glass down on the nightstand. He looked at her for a long, quiet moment. The silence in the room was absolute, but it was no longer terrifying.

"Twelve doctors," Matteo said, a faint, amused smile touching the corner of his lips. "Twelve men with degrees from Harvard and Johns Hopkins sat in this room for three weeks, watching me die, charging me fifty thousand dollars a day to tell me I had an 'incurable illness.'"

Matteo leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

"And a twenty-four-year-old girl who cleans my baseboards figures out I'm being poisoned by a flower."

"My grandmother taught me, sir," Nia said softly. "She always said that simple things kill faster than complex ones."

Matteo let out a deep, booming laugh that echoed off the mahogany walls—a sound of pure, vitality-restored life.

"Your grandmother was a smart woman, Nia," Matteo said, his smile vanishing, replaced by an expression of profound, serious gratitude. "You saved my life. In my world, a debt like that is never forgotten."

He looked at Enzo. "Enzo, what is her current wage?"

"Eighteen dollars an hour, boss," Enzo answered.

Matteo shook his head, a look of genuine disgust passing over his face. "Eighteen dollars an hour for a woman who saved the Costa empire."