Chapter 4 - Poison in the Champagne
By Wednesday night, twenty-four hours before the decisive board meeting, the tension inside the Duca mansion was palpable.
Matteo had brought in a dozen additional armed security guards—loyal mercenaries hired by Damian Cole—effectively putting the entire estate under armed lockdown. Nobody was allowed in or out without Damian’s personal approval.
Clara was making her late-night rounds through the kitchen when she noticed a shadow moving inside the private pantry where Lorenzo's specialized medical supplies and imported teas were stored.
She slipped behind the pantry door, holding her breath.
Through the crack, she saw Damian Cole holding a small glass vial filled with a clear, odorless liquid. With meticulous care, Damian drew two milliliters of the liquid into a syringe and injected it directly through the rubber stopper of the intravenous vitamin bag scheduled to be hooked up to Lorenzo’s arm at midnight.
"That should do it," Damian muttered to himself, capping the syringe and slipping it into his jacket. "By tomorrow night, his heart will simply stop. Natural organ failure."
Clara’s heart pounded violently against her ribs. Poison. They weren't just waiting for the board meeting—they were going to murder Lorenzo tonight so Matteo could inherit everything cleanly as his sole surviving relative!
She waited until Damian’s heavy boots echoed away down the corridor toward the security center.
The moment the coast was clear, Clara darted into the pantry. She grabbed the compromised vitamin bag, her hands shaking uncontrollably, and sprinted up the service stairs to Lorenzo's study.
She burst through the door, breathless and pale.
Lorenzo and Raphael were leaning over a mahogany table covered with architectural blueprints of Duca Tower and financial ledgers.
"Clara? What’s wrong?" Lorenzo asked, immediately stepping forward as he saw her distress.
"Damian..." Clara gasped, holding up the IV bag. "I saw him. He injected something into this. He said your heart would stop by tomorrow night!"
Raphael snatched the bag, sniffing the injection port, his face darkening instantly. "Potassium chloride or a synthetic paralytic. It leaves no trace in a standard autopsy. They're moving up the timeline."
Lorenzo didn't panic. Instead, a cold, calculating smile spread across his lips.
"They're getting desperate," Lorenzo said calmly. "Matteo knows his forged receivership documents won't hold up in court if the board demands a live video confirmation from me. He needs me dead before they can ask questions."
"What do we do?" Clara asked, panic lacing her voice. "If we don't use the bag, Damian will know I swapped it!"
"Then we play their game," Lorenzo declared.
He looked at Raphael. "Do we have the duplicate saline bag Dr. Vance brought yesterday?"
"In the safe," Raphael replied, immediately walking over to the wall safe and pulling out a identical, harmless IV bag filled with pure saline solution.
"Swap the labels," Lorenzo ordered. "Clara, take the poisoned bag and hide it in a secure place. We will need it as physical evidence for the police and the District Attorney."
Clara nodded, carefully wrapping the poisoned bag in a towel and hiding it inside her bag.
"Now," Lorenzo continued, his dark eyes gleaming with strategic brilliance. "Tonight, I go into 'cardiac distress.' We let Damian and Matteo believe their poison is working. We let them think I am on the brink of death."
"Why?" Clara asked, confused.
"Because a confident enemy makes mistakes," Lorenzo explained, turning to look at her. "When Matteo believes I am dying, he will lower his guard completely. He will bring all his co-conspirators together tomorrow at Duca Tower to celebrate. And that is when we strike."
Two hours later, a frantic alarm rang out through the third floor of the mansion.
Dr. Vance, who was secretly in on the plan, ran down the hallway shouting for assistance. "He’s in respiratory distress! His blood pressure is dropping!"
Matteo and Isabella rushed out of the master bedroom, dressed in silk robes. Matteo’s face was filled with a horrific, hidden glee, though he forced a look of solemn concern for the benefit of the household staff.
"Is he going to make it, Doctor?" Matteo asked, struggling to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"It’s doubtful," Dr. Vance lied smoothly, coming out of Lorenzo’s room with a stethoscope around his neck. "He’s slipping into a coma. I’ve stabilized him for now with emergency adrenaline, but he won't survive another twenty-four hours."
Isabella placed a hand over her mouth, fake sobbing, while leaning her head against Matteo’s shoulder. "Oh, poor Lorenzo... it’s a mercy, really."
Standing in the corner of the hallway, holding Mia’s hand, Clara watched the disgusting display of fake grief. She squeezed Mia’s small hand, drawing strength from the knowledge that behind those closed doors, Lorenzo Duca was alive, strong, and preparing a reckoning beyond their worst nightmares.
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Matteo turned to Damian, who gave him a subtle, approving nod.
"Prepare the limousine for eight AM tomorrow," Matteo ordered Damian, his voice booming with arrogant authority. "We are going to Duca Tower. The empire is officially changing hands."
