Chapter 8 - The Nursery Trap
At 11:00 PM that night, the mansion was shrouded in total darkness.
A fake announcement had been leaked to the household staff at dinner: Baby Leo had developed severe respiratory distress from last night’s fever, and Dr. Rossi had placed him on an automated oxygen monitor in the nursery, restricted to all visitors.
Inside the dark nursery, the room was silent save for the rhythmic, simulated beep... beep... beep... of a medical heart rate monitor set up near the crib.
Beneath the blue blanket in the crib lay a heavy, life-sized weighted doll dressed in Leo’s cotton sleeper. The real Leo was safe three floors below in a hidden panic room, guarded personally by Dominic and two trusted security officers.
I sat in the dark rocking chair in the corner of the nursery, hidden entirely within the deep shadows, holding a silent digital receiver in my lap.
Across the room, behind the heavy velvet curtains near the balcony window, stood Alessio, completely motionless, holding a silenced 9mm pistol at his side.
We waited in the dark for forty-five agonizing minutes. The rain had picked up again, hammering against the glass, masking the faint sounds of the house.
Then, at 11:52 PM, the brass door handle turned with a tiny, metallic click.
The nursery door slid open inch by inch.
A tall silhouette stepped silently into the room, dressed in black gloves and a dark hoodie, illuminated only by the faint green glow of the medical monitor. The figure held a small glass syringe filled with a clear, lethal fluid.
The intruder crept toward the crib, reaching over the rail, raising the syringe to inject it directly into the IV line connected to the doll.
“Looking for this, Marcus?” I spoke softly from the shadows.
Marcus whipped around in sheer panic, dropping the syringe onto the carpet.
Before he could run for the door, the nursery lights slammed on, blinding him in a flood of harsh white illumination.
Alessio stepped out from behind the velvet curtains, his silenced pistol leveled directly at Marcus’s chest.
“Move an inch,” Alessio warned, his voice like grinding tectonic plates, “and I’ll put a bullet through your knee.”
Marcus backed up against the crib rail, his face pale as a ghost, his hands shaking violently inside his black leather gloves.
“Alessio! Wait!” Marcus screamed, dropping to his knees in terror. “It’s not what it looks like! I was just checking on the baby!”
“With a syringe full of potassium chloride?” I said, stepping out of the shadows holding a sterile evidence collection tube. I picked up the dropped syringe from the rug. “A lethal cardiac injection. The exact same synthetic compound used in Baltimore six months ago.”
May you like
Marcus looked from me to the crib, realizing the blanket only covered a weighted doll. His eyes widened in sheer, helpless horror. “You... you set me up...”
“You murdered my wife, Marcus,” Alessio said, stepping closer, the barrel of his gun pressed directly against Marcus’s forehead—the exact spot where he had held his gun to me twenty-four hours earlier. “Give me one reason why I shouldn't end your miserable life right here.”
