Chapter 2 - TITAN DIDN’T HATE DOCTORS
Adrian woke at 3:11 in the morning.
Dante was there.
Of course.
Dante had been beside him after shootings, raids, two federal subpoenas and one engagement that ended with a wine bottle thrown through a window.
He considered hospitals ordinary office space.
Adrian opened his eyes.
“Titan?”
Dante almost laughed.
“Good morning to you too.”
“The dog.”
“Fine.”
Adrian tried sitting.
The room moved.
Dante pushed him gently back.
“Don’t.”
“What happened?”
“You collapsed.”
“I remember standing.”
“Useful.”
“Then?”
“Carpet.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
His throat tasted metallic.
“What did Reynolds say?”
Dante became still.
Adrian noticed.
“Where is Reynolds?”
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because your dog tried to eat him.”
Adrian stared.
“What?”
Dante explained.
The hallway.
Titan.
Sophia.
The doctor moving forward.
Titan reacting.
Adrian said nothing.
Dante continued:
“Hospital found something in your blood.”
He showed him the preliminary toxicology report.
Adrian read.
Then again.
“What is this?”
“Something you were never prescribed.”
Adrian looked up.
“Who has access to my medication?”
“Reynolds.”
“Mrs. Bellini.”
“Some.”
“Vincent?”
Dante hesitated.
That alone was interesting.
“My cousin does not organize pills.”
“No.”
“But?”
“Vincent requested Reynolds start managing your supplements six months ago.”
Adrian frowned.
“Why?”
“Apparently because of your headaches.”
Adrian tried remembering.
The headaches started around the same time.
Then dizziness.
Occasional nausea.
Two episodes of nearly fainting.
Reynolds called it stress.
He prescribed something.
Then another medication to manage side effects from the first.
Adrian had never questioned him.
Why would he?
Reynolds had treated his mother.
His father.
His brother.
Trust is most dangerous where it feels inherited.
“Bring me another doctor.”
“Already did.”
Adrian almost smiled.
“That’s why I keep you.”
“I thought it was my personality.”
“Impossible.”
Then Adrian asked:
“The child.”
“Sophia.”
“Yes.”
“Safe.”
“Her mother?”
“Elena Castillo.”
Adrian knew the name vaguely.
Household employee.
Quiet.
Widowed.
Worked upstairs.
“You questioned the girl?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Her mother would have killed me.”
Adrian almost laughed.
Then Dante became serious.
“Elena said adults verify the rest.”
“She’s right.”
Dante stared.
“You’re agreeing with staff now?”
“Careful.”
Better.
The next morning an independent physician, Dr. Miriam Shaw, reviewed Adrian’s records.
Her conclusion was uncomfortable.
Someone had altered parts of his medication history.
Not grossly.
Subtly.
Dosages edited.
Notes added after appointments.
References to symptoms Adrian did not remember reporting.
“Could this be clerical?” Adrian asked.
Dr. Shaw gave him the kind of look doctors give powerful men when power becomes medically irrelevant.
“Once?”
“Maybe.”
“Repeatedly?”
“No.”
“What would long-term exposure do?”
“Depends on dose.”
“Assume low.”
“Fatigue. Dizziness. Blood-pressure instability. Cognitive fog.”
Adrian went still.
All of them.
“Long enough?”
“Could create a convincing picture of progressive health decline.”
Dante looked at Adrian.
Adrian looked back.
Neither spoke.
Because eight months earlier Adrian had announced a restructuring of Moretti Holdings.
Sell off illicit cash businesses.
Shut down offshore collection arms.
Move shipping, hotels, construction and private security into fully audited legal entities.
Vincent Moretti had opposed it.
Loudly.
Vincent was Adrian’s older cousin.
Family.
Executive vice chairman.
Temporary operating authority whenever Adrian was unavailable.
And under an old family trust clause—
if Adrian became medically incapacitated for thirty consecutive days, voting control shifted to the interim family trustee.
Vincent.
Adrian whispered:
“Find the trust.”
Dante did not ask which one.
Two hours later, the document sat on Adrian’s hospital table.
There it was.
Thirty days.
Then another page.
Medical incapacity required certification by two physicians.
One was the current family physician.
Dr. Ethan Reynolds.
Adrian looked toward the Boston skyline.
“What happened to the second doctor?”
“Retired.”
“Replacement?”
“Recommended by Vincent’s office.”
Of course.
Dante asked:
“You think Vincent is doing this?”
“No.”
May you like
Adrian closed the folder.
“I think I have enough reason to stop assuming he isn't.”
