Chapter 5 - The Poisoned Ring
At two o'clock in the morning, the estate’s private forensic laboratory on the subterranean level was fully operational.
Dominic’s lead chemist, Dr. Robert Vance, placed the three-carat diamond engagement ring that Vivienne had given Dominic under a digital microscope.
The high-definition monitor displayed the intricate platinum setting magnified two hundred times.
Inside the hollow hollowed-out cavity behind the central diamond sat a microscopic electronic transponder and a micro-actuator valve.
“The device is a dual-frequency military tracking beacon coupled with an aerosol chemical injector,” Dr. Vance explained, pointing at the digital schematics.
“The micro-reservoir was filled with concentrated aconitine—a lethal neurotoxin that penetrates the dermal barrier within forty-eight hours of continuous contact.”
Dominic stood beside the examination table, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles along his temples twitched with homicidal rage.
Vivienne had personally placed that ring on his finger during their private toast before the dinner began.
She had smiled into his eyes, kissed his cheek, and told him how excited she was to build an empire together.
If Clara had not interrupted the countdown, Dominic would have survived the east tunnel only to die of cardiac failure before sunrise.
“They wanted a clean execution with zero forensic trace,” Dominic murmured, his voice cold enough to freeze water.
“If the sweepers failed in the tunnel, the ring would finish the job while I slept in my bed.”
Clara stood near the doorway, watching the glowing screen with a mixture of horror and profound relief.
“She planned every single second of your death, Dominic,” Clara said softly.
“She never loved you; she was an executioner sent to harvest your empire.”
Dominic picked up the titanium tweezers, lifting the poisoned ring from the testing tray and dropping it into a sterile evidence container.
“Vivienne Thorne thinks she is playing chess with a corpse,” Dominic said, turning to face his chief lieutenant.
“Leo, mobilize three tactical squads to the Thorne maritime warehouse on Pier 14.”
“The sweepers who survived the restaurant raid retreated to their primary safehouse to await their extraction payment.”
“Capture the team leader alive, seize their communications servers, and secure the warehouse before dawn.”
“And what about Vivienne?” Clara asked, her heart pounding as she saw the dark storm brewing in Dominic’s eyes.
Dominic turned his gaze toward her, a thin, lethal smile curving his lips.
“Vivienne believes her hit was successful because our media blackouts have reported zero survivors from Table Nine.”
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“At noon today, she and her father will march into the Boston Port Authority boardroom to claim my empty chair.”
“And I am going to let them sit down before I kick the doors off their hinges.”
