They Called Me a Fraud, So I Walked Into the Don's House novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: No Lies in This House

Alessio hears that he is being poisoned, makes her promise to answer every question about his body, and learns Gregory is coming to the house tomorrow.

"Nothing," I said. "I have never seen him. I only read the numbers Gregory sent me."

Rocco studied my face.

"Then you can say that to him yourself," he said, and walked me up the drive.

The study was all dark wood and low firelight.

One wall was glass, thick enough to stop a bullet, and the whole city lay behind it.

A man sat in a leather chair by the window with a tablet on his knee.

He did not stand when I came in.

Alessio Carbone was thirty-six, and I knew his bloodwork better than his own mother did.

I knew his hemoglobin, his platelets and the slow drop in his white count every week since August.

None of the numbers had told me he would be this big.

He was seated, and still the room leaned toward him.

His hair was black, with gray at the temples ten years too early.

His jaw looked cut from the same stone as the fireplace.

My breath caught, and it was not from fear.

"Dr. Finley," he said. His voice was low and unhurried. "Rocco says you've been my doctor for a month."

"Dr. Schultz's letter says that," I said. "I only found out at the gate."

"Sit."

I sat in the chair across from him and put the steel case on my knees.

He looked at it. He did not ask.

"My cousin tells me you came here to say I'm dying," Alessio said.

"You are. Not from a disease."

The fire popped.

"Something is getting into your blood every day, in small amounts," I said. "It is shutting down your marrow one dose at a time."

Rocco, by the door, went very still.

"Poison," Alessio said.

"Yes."

"What kind?"

I had been waiting for that question since Saturday night, and I still did not have the answer ready.

"I can't name it yet," I said. "I need a sample from your body and a sample from your kitchen before I say it out loud."

"You came all this way without knowing."

"I came with the numbers. The numbers say poison."

He leaned back and studied me for a long time.

I let him.

"Four doctors have looked at my blood since August," he said. "Three said I was tired."

"And the fourth?"

"Dr. Schultz said it was a rare disorder and wrote me a prescription."

"What was in the prescription?"

"A supplement." Alessio's mouth tightened. "I've taken it every night for a month."

I felt the cold run all the way down my arms.

"Stop taking it," I said. "Tonight. Do not touch anything he gives you."

"Rocco."

"I'll pull it from the cabinet," Rocco said, already leaving.

The door shut behind him. Alessio and I were alone with the fire.

"Why would a fraud walk into my house?" he asked. "Schultz's story is all over the internet. Rocco showed me the video."

"I'm not a fraud."

"Prove it."

"I can't, not tonight. In ninety days you'll be able to see it for yourself."

"Ninety days," he said slowly.

"That is how long it takes to flush your marrow and start it again. I'd need the run of your house, your food and your blood."

"And you'd live here."

"Yes."

He tapped one finger on the tablet.

"Here is my rule, Doctor, and Rocco told you the first half of it." His eyes did not leave mine. "No lies in this house. You answer every question I ask about my body, honestly, and I answer yours about my men."

"Agreed."

I said it fast.

There was one answer I had not given him yet, and I knew it.

"What do you want in return?" he said. "Everybody wants something."

"Gregory Schultz," I said.

His eyebrows lifted.

"Don't kill him. I want him standing in front of a room like the one he used on me, and I want everybody to hear the truth. Then you can have what is left."

For the first time his mouth moved at the corner.

"You'd waste a man on a speech."

"I'd get my name back with it."

He held out his hand across the low table.

It was warm, and dry, and the grip was careful.

I felt his pulse under my fingers, a little too fast.

"Ninety days," Alessio said. "Start with the kitchen."

Rocco came back with a small brown bottle and set it on the table between us.

"Mr. Carbone," he said. "That's not all. Dr. Schultz's office called ten minutes ago."

"And?"

"He's coming here tomorrow at noon for your regular consult." Rocco looked at me. "He asked to be told if Dr. Finley has been in touch."

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