Chapter 3 - Interrogation in the Dark
The wine cellar beneath the estate was a cold, vaulted chamber lined with centuries-old brickwork and dusty bottles of vintage oak. Isabella sat tied to a heavy iron chair in the center of the room, illuminated by a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Her designer dress was rumpled, her hair disheveled, but her eyes held a manic, triumphant glare.
Marco stepped into the ring of light, pulling up a wooden stool to sit directly across from her.
"You look tired, Marco," Isabella sneered, spitting a lock of hair away from her mouth. "Did the lab report shatter your perfect little illusion?"
"Why the slow death, Isabella?" Marco asked softly, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "If Julian wanted revenge, he could have sent a sniper. He could have put a bomb under my car. Why target an eight-year-old girl?"
Isabella let out a harsh, rasping laugh that echoed off the damp brick walls. "Because killing you is too easy! Quick death is a gift you give to enemies you respect. Julian doesn't respect you, Marco. He wants you to suffer the exact same way he suffered—watching everything you built, everything you loved, wither away while you stand by helpless!"
"Julian is dead," Marco said again, testing her reaction.
"He lives!" Isabella shrieked, her eyes widening with a fanatical intensity. "He’s been waiting in the shadows, building an army while you got soft playing house! He watched you tie her little shoes, Marco! He watched you read her bedtime stories! Every time you kissed her forehead, he was laughing at you, knowing that every bite of food she took was bringing her closer to the grave!"
Marco felt a cold rage rising from the pit of his stomach, but he forced it down, maintaining a visage of stone. "Where is he?"
"Find him yourself," she spat. "It doesn't matter anyway. The dosage was calculated months ago. Without the neutralizing compound—the antidote that only Julian possesses—the damage to her internal organs will become irreversible within forty-eight hours. She will slip into a coma, and you will watch her die in a hospital bed while your empire burns around you."
Marco stood up slowly. He reached down, picked up a small leather briefcase resting on the table behind him, and opened it. Inside lay two syringes filled with a clear, amber fluid.
Isabella’s laughter died instantly. "What is that?"
"This is the same synthetic compound Dr. Chen extracted from the soup," Marco said calmly, fitting a sterile needle onto the first syringe. "Only this is a concentrated dose. In five minutes, your liver will begin to fail. In ten, your nervous system will fire wildly. You have forty-eight hours to give me Julian’s location, Isabella... or you will experience the exact death you planned for my daughter."
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Isabella shrank back into the iron chair, her manic pride evaporating into genuine terror as Marco stepped into her space with the needle held high. "You... you wouldn't... you're supposed to be civilized now!"
"I am a father first," Marco whispered into her ear as he pressed the tip against her skin. "And a monster second."
