Chapter 19 - The trail of broken glass
The air inside the private clinic suite smelled of overturned isopropyl alcohol, shattered glass, and fresh rain blowing through the blown-out French balcony doors.
Sophie knelt beside Isabella’s overturned easel. The watercolor landscape her mother-in-law had been painting only an hour ago was splattered with drops of fresh blood. A single silver hairpin, one that Sophie had given Isabella for her birthday, lay crushed against the polished hardwood floor.
Lorenzo stood in the center of the room, completely motionless. To an outsider, he looked calm, but Sophie knew him intimately now; she could see the terrifying, quiet monster awakening behind his dark eyes. It was the same mafia boss who had brought an entire cartel to its knees, but now, his mother had been ripped from his sanctuary.
"Boss," one of the tactical guards reported, trembling as he presented a tablet. "The perimeter sensors picked up an unmarked black medical transport leaving the rear service access three minutes ago. They had internal access codes. Someone inside our staff disabled the security gate's hydraulic spikes."
Lorenzo did not raise his voice. His tone was as cold as dry ice. "Find whoever sold those codes. Strip their family name from every ledger we own. Marco, bring me the manifest of all staff hired in the last six months."
"Wait," Sophie said, standing up from the floor. She walked toward the medical cabinet near the bed. The glass doors were smashed open, but only one shelf was cleared out. "Lorenzo, look at this. They didn't just take Isabella. They stole her medical stabilization kit."
Lorenzo walked over, his eyes narrowing. "Why would kidnappers care about her medication?"
"Because without the synthetic binder I developed from my father’s notes, Isabella will slip into an irreversible coma within forty-eight hours," Sophie explained, her mind racing with clinical urgency. "Marcello doesn't want her dead. If he wanted her dead, he would have slit her throat right here in this room. He needs her alive. Why?"
Lorenzo clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. "The family trust. Under my father's original will, the Moretti reserves—over four billion dollars in offshore gold and Mediterranean shipping rights—cannot be released to any heir without my mother's biometric voiceprint and physical presence before the Council of Elders."
"And the council meets this Sunday," Sophie whispered, piecing the horror together. "Marcello is going to bring Isabella to the council, heavily drugged, to force her to hand over the entire empire to him. And once the transfer is verified..."
"He will discard her like trash," Lorenzo finished the sentence, his eyes flashing with lethal intent.
Suddenly, Sophie’s personal mobile phone began to vibrate on the bedside table. It was an unknown international number.
Lorenzo immediately gestured for Marco to trace the signal. He leaned in close to Sophie as she pressed the speaker button.
"Dr. Clark," a smooth, cultured voice spoke through the speaker, carrying a distinct Sicilian cadence. "Or should I say, little sister? You have caused me a great deal of inconvenience. My foolish ex-fiancée made a mess of the banquet, but you... you managed to keep the old woman breathing."
Sophie gripped the phone, her voice cold and unyielding. "Marcello Moretti."
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A low, mocking laugh echoed from the receiver. "Intelligent, just like your father. You see, Dr. Clark, the medication you made is almost depleted. If you want Isabella to survive long enough to see the sunrise, you will come to the old salt docks at pier forty-four. Alone. Bring your father's original research journal. If I see Lorenzo, Isabella dies before you take a single step."
👉 Will Sophie walk straight into the lion's den alone to save Isabella?
