Chapter 3 - The Traitor's Instrument
The rain outside the Moretti mansion had turned into a torrential downpour, hammering against the tall stained-glass windows of the grand study.
Downstairs, the estate was on absolute lockdown. Red tactical lights bathed the perimeter walls in a crimson glow. Armed guards in full combat gear lined every hallway, their heavy boots silent against the thick marble floors.
In the study, Adrien stood behind his heavy oak desk. The cloth doll sat in the middle of the polished leather blotter alongside the disassembled wooden mobile. Gabe’s technicians had spent forty-five minutes dismantling the carved moon. Inside its hollow core lay a military-grade micro-emitter powered by a long-life lithium-ion cell, coupled with an encrypted radio receiver.
Dr. Evelyn Cole sat in a high-backed leather chair opposite the desk.
She was a stunning woman in her early fifties, impeccably groomed in an expensive Chanel skirt suit, her dark hair pulled back into a tight chignon. For twelve years, she had been the primary physician for the Moretti inner circle. She had treated Adrien’s late father. She had delivered Adrien’s triplets.
She was currently sipping a glass of iced water, though her hands were shaking so terribly that the ice cubes rattled against the crystal glass like loose teeth.
"Adrien, this is an outrage," Dr. Cole said, trying to summon the crisp, commanding tone she used in hospital boardrooms. "You dragged me out of my home at ten o’clock at night with armed mercenaries! If this is about the triplets' distress, I already told you—infantile colic can manifest in severe, unexplained episodes. Re-examining them in the middle of the night under threat of violence is completely unprofessional!"
Adrien did not answer immediately. He picked up a silver fountain pen, unscrewed the cap, and laid it down beside the disassembled emitter on his desk.
"Do you know what this is, Evelyn?" Adrien asked gently.
Dr. Cole glanced at the small circuit board. She swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. "It looks like... an electronic component. I am a physician, Adrien, not an engineer."
"It’s an emitter," Adrien said softly. "It was planted inside the mobile you brought for Theo, Miles, and Nora three weeks ago. The day after you hung it above their heads, my children began screaming."
"That’s impossible!" she gasped, her eyes widening in exaggerated shock. "I bought that mobile at an artisan shop in Florence during my vacation! I had it wrapped and shipped directly—"
"Lies," Adrien cut her off, his voice flat. "The circuit board bears a serial number registered to a defense contractor in Frankfurt. A contractor owned by a holding company named Valenti Enterprises."
The room grew so cold that Dr. Cole’s breath bloomed white in the air.
At the mention of the name Valenti, the glass in her hand slipped. It shattered against the hardwood floor, sending water and broken crystal spraying across her leather shoes.
Valenti was the surname of Marcus Valenti—Adrien’s fiercest rival, a ruthless syndicate boss who controlled the eastern shipping docks and had been waging a cold, underground war against the Moretti family for five years.
"Adrien... please," Dr. Cole whimpered, dropping all pretense of medical dignity. She sank to her knees among the broken glass, her hands clasped in desperation. "You don't understand! They... they have my son! They took Michael from his campus in Boston three months ago! They sent me a finger, Adrien! A finger with his college ring on it!"
Adrien leaned forward over his desk, his dark eyes showing no pity, no anger—only an endless, abyssal void.
"You traded the sanity and brain function of my three motherless children for your son’s life," Adrien stated coldly.
"They said it wouldn't kill them!" she sobbed, tears ruining her heavy mascara, leaving black tracks down her cheeks. "Marcus promised me! He said it was just a frequency to keep you distracted, to make you unhinged, to make you look weak to your captains so they would break rank! He swore it wouldn't cause permanent brain damage!"
"He lied to you," Adrien said. "Ninety decibels at twenty-two kilohertz for three weeks causes irreversible auditory nerve destruction in infants within thirty days. In nine more days, my children would have been permanently deaf."
Dr. Cole covered her face with her hands, weeping hysterically on the floor.
Adrien didn't look at her again. He turned his head toward the dark corner of the room, where Gabe stood in the shadows.
"Where is Marcus Valenti right now?" Adrien asked.
"Our watchers report he is currently at his penthouse at the Grand Plaza," Gabe replied smoothly. "He believes the acoustic weapon is still running smoothly. He’s expecting Dr. Cole to report that you are on the verge of a nervous breakdown."
Adrien picked up the cloth doll from his desk. He ran his thumb over the soft, faded fabric where Sophie’s little hand had rested.
"Evelyn," Adrien said, looking down at the crying woman. "You are going to call Marcus right now. You are going to tell him that the noise has driven me to order my children taken to a private medical facility in Lake Geneva at midnight. You will tell him that I am accompanying the transport convoy personally, with only four bodyguards."
Dr. Cole looked up, her face pale with horror. "You're... you're going to set an ambush?"
"No," Adrien replied softly, a dark, terrifying smile curling the edges of his lips. "I am going to give Marcus Valenti exactly what he has been begging for. A face-to-face meeting with the devil."
He turned to Gabe. "Bring Maria and her daughter up to the third-floor master suite. Clear out the guest wing. They are no longer staff in this house."
May you like
Gabe blinked, surprised by the order. "Boss?"
"From this moment on," Adrien declared, his eyes burning with an intense, unwavering resolve, "Sophie Vance and her mother are under my personal, absolute protection. Anyone who touches a hair on that child's head answers to me."
