Chapter 4 - TAINTED MILK
The VIP wing of Mass General was locked down tighter than a federal reserve. Dozens of Michael’s armed men patrolled the corridors. Inside the sterile suite, Noah was sleeping peacefully, an IV dripping a steady stream of antidotes into his tiny arm.
The chief toxicologist handed Michael a heavily redacted file. "Your maid was right, Mr. Carter. It was a synthesized derivative of batrachotoxin. Odorless, tasteless. Mixed directly into his formula. If she hadn't recognized the thermal acceleration, his heart would have ruptured."
Michael crushed the file in his hand. He turned to Frank. "Who made the bottle?"
"Margaret, the night nanny," Frank said, his face grim. "But we have a problem. I sent a team back to the estate to bring her in. They found her in the greenhouse. A single gunshot to the back of the head."
Emily, standing by the window, crossed her arms. "She was silencing a loose end. Margaret was terrified of her own shadow. She didn't have the connections to source a military-grade neurotoxin. Someone gave it to her. Someone who has unrestricted access to your home, your schedule, and your security protocols."
May you like
Michael’s cold eyes swept over Frank, then to the guards stationed outside the door. The realization was a block of ice in his stomach. His empire wasn't being attacked from the outside. The rot was inside his own house.
"Nobody leaves this floor," Michael ordered, drawing his sidearm and checking the chamber. "The rat is still in the maze. And I’m going to bleed them dry."
