Chapter 2 - The Interrogation
I didn't waste another second. I grabbed the half-empty glass of gin and threw the freezing liquid directly into Beatrice’s face.
The nurse gasped, jerking awake and thrashing in the armchair. She wiped her eyes, completely disoriented, until her gaze locked onto me. The sheer, unadulterated murder in my expression made the color drain entirely from her face. Then, she saw Harper sitting on the edge of the crib, nursing my son, and the amber vial gripped tightly in my fist.
"Mr. Bianchi... I... I can explain," Beatrice stammered, scrambling backward in the chair, her voice high and breathless with terror.
"You have exactly ten seconds to tell me exactly what is in this vial," I said, drawing my pistol and pressing the cold steel barrel directly against her forehead. "If you lie, if you hesitate, I will paint this nursery with your brains. One."
"Please! It wasn't my idea!" she shrieked, tears instantly spilling over her cheeks.
"Two. Three."
"It’s a synthetic metabolic inhibitor!" Beatrice sobbed, throwing her hands up to protect her face. "It mimics severe gastrointestinal failure in infants! It stops them from being able to swallow or digest! It’s designed to leave no trace in a standard autopsy!"
"Who gave it to you?" I demanded, pressing the barrel harder against her skull.
"I don't know his real name!" she wailed. "He just offered me two million dollars! He said... he said your son was weak anyway, that he wouldn't survive without his mother! He said it was a mercy!"
I struck her across the face with the grip of my pistol. The heavy crack of metal against bone echoed through the room, and Beatrice crumpled to the floor, unconscious once again. I stood over her, my chest heaving, the urge to empty my magazine into her spine nearly overpowering my logic.
"Matteo..."
May you like
It was the first time Harper had used my first name. I turned to look at her. She was looking at me not with the fear I was accustomed to seeing in the eyes of my staff, but with a fierce, protective urgency. Luca had finally pulled away from her, his little belly full for the first time in a month. He was asleep, a peaceful, healthy flush returning to his pale cheeks.
"We need to get him out of here," Harper said, her voice remarkably steady. "If they locked the door, it means they are coming back to finish the job."
