His Traitorous Fiancée Laughed at the Maid’s Daughter for Washing the Paralyzed Boss's Feet — Until He Suddenly Stood Up

Later that night, the mansion was completely quiet.

Massimo sat alone in his dark bedroom. He slowly, agonizingly concentrated on his right foot. With a massive effort that made him break out in a cold sweat, his big toe twitched.

He wasn't paralyzed. He had never been permanently paralyzed. The bullets had grazed his spine, but the "medicine" Dr. Hale injected and prescribed had been a synthetic nerve-blocker, slowly shutting down his organs to stage a natural death.

The door creaked open. Carla stepped in silently, carrying a fresh pitcher of water. She looked terrified, expecting to be reprimanded.

"Sir, I'm sorry to intrude," she whispered.

"Carla," Massimo said, his voice cutting through the dark like a blade. "I need you to do exactly as I say, and you must not tell a single soul. Not even your daughter."

Carla froze, her breath catching in her throat. "Yes, Don Massimo."

Massimo handed her the small white pill wrapped in a tissue. "Tomorrow morning, when you go to the market, take this to the address written on this card. It’s an independent chemist who owes me his life. Tell him to analyze it immediately and call this burner phone."

Carla’s eyes widened, realizing she was suddenly stepping into the dangerous underworld of her boss. But she remembered how Camille had treated her child. She nodded bravely. "I will protect it with my life, sir."

The next afternoon, Dr. Hale arrived for the daily checkup.

"Time for your medication, Massimo," Dr. Hale smiled, pulling a syringe from his black bag. "This will help with the muscle spasms."