Chapter 4: My Son Drank Poison to Save Me

They found my son on the marble floor of Bianca Castellan's suite, foaming at the mouth, with an empty green vial still clenched in his fist. I was on my knees ten feet away with two men holding my arms, screaming until my throat tore. Because he'd drunk it for me. Because she'd said: the bastard swallows it, or I break every bone in his mother's hands. And my five-year-old boy had looked her in the eye and said, "Don't touch my mama," and picked up the vial himself. Rewind twenty minutes. They...