The Cruel Fiancée Poisoned the Mafia Boss’s IV to Inherit His Empire — Until a 3-Year-Old Girl Sang Him Awake

Victoria rolled her eyes in disgust at the monitor and turned on her heel.

“Make sure it’s done by midnight, Silvio,” Victoria commanded as she strutted out of the room. Silvio followed her, and the heavy suite doors slammed shut. The metallic click of a deadbolt echoed loudly.

They had locked the doors from the outside. Elena and Mia were trapped.

The moment the room was clear, Lorenzo opened his eyes. They weren't the eyes of a weak, dying man anymore. They burned with a cold, terrifying, and absolute cinematic fury.

“She was going to be my wife,” Lorenzo whispered, the sheer magnitude of the betrayal settling into his chest.

Elena didn't waste a second. She rushed over to the IV stand. She inspected the new medication bag that Silvio had hung earlier that morning. Her medical training instantly recognized the distinct, faint yellow tint of a highly concentrated potassium compound—a lethal dose designed to induce a massive, untraceable heart attack.

With trembling hands, Elena unhooked the poisoned bag, saving Lorenzo's life. She quickly swapped it with a pure, harmless saline solution from the medical cart.

“You just saved my life, Elena,” Lorenzo said softly, watching her work with profound respect.

“They are going to kill us both tonight when they realize you aren't dead,” Elena panicked, pulling Mia tightly against her navy blue scrubs. “I need to call the police!”

“The police belong to Silvio,” Lorenzo stated grimly, slowly forcing himself to sit up against the pillows. His heavily tattooed arm strained with the effort. “I need you to open the painting behind my bed. There is a hidden safe. The code is 4-1-2-1. Bring me the satellite phone inside.”

Elena quickly retrieved the heavy black phone and handed it to him.

Lorenzo dialed his most loyal men, but the screen instantly flashed red. NO SIGNAL.