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

"Actually, Julian," Massimo said smoothly, leaning his head back against his wheelchair. "I feel incredibly nauseous today. If you inject that now, I’m going to vomit all over your expensive suit."

Dr. Hale frowned, hesitating. "Massimo, it's vital we keep up the regimen. If we skip—"

"I am the boss of this family," Massimo’s voice suddenly cracked like a whip, echoing with his old, terrifying authority. "I said no. Leave the pills on the nightstand. I'll take them when my stomach settles."

Intimidated by the flash of the don's legendary wrath, Dr. Hale nodded quickly. He set the pills down, packed his bag, and hurried out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Massimo swept the pills into a napkin and shoved them deep into his pocket.

An hour later, the secret burner phone hidden under his mattress vibrated.

"Don Massimo," the chemist's voice trembled over the line. "The pill you sent... it's a highly concentrated synthetic neurotoxin. Taken daily, it mimics severe spinal paralysis. But sir... it's also causing total organ failure. Whoever is giving you this is planning for your heart to stop within the next forty-eight hours."

Massimo hung up the phone. His cold gray eyes turned to absolute ice.

They were going to kill him this weekend.

He heard heavy footsteps approaching his study. It was Dean and Camille. Massimo instantly slumped his shoulders, forcing his breathing to sound shallow and weak.

"Massimo, darling," Camille cooed, walking in and resting a hand on his shoulder. "You look terrible. You're fading."

"I am tired, Camille," Massimo rasped, playing the dying man perfectly. "Dean... come here."

Dean stepped forward, trying to hide a triumphant smirk. "What is it, Boss?"