“The formula,” Evan said, coughing dryly. “The slow starvation.”

Julian sighed, a sound of mild annoyance.

“Evan, please,” Julian said. “Have some dignity.”

“He poisoned him,” Evan gasped, pointing a white-knuckled finger at Julian.

“He’s been poisoning Leo since the day he was brought home.”

My stomach dropped, a cold nausea washing over me.

“With what?” Lorenzo demanded, taking a step closer, though his eyes never left the needle.

“A synthetic toxin,” Evan said, his breath coming in shallow rattles.

“It mimics a rare metabolic wasting disease.”

“The symptoms are identical to failure to thrive,” Evan continued, looking at the floor.

“Julian created the toxin in his private lab.”

Julian smiled slightly, a small, chilling twitch of his lips.

“A masterpiece of biochemistry,” Julian murmured.

“No standard toxicology screen can detect it,” Evan said.

“And why?” Lorenzo’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Why my son?”

“For the cure,” Evan whispered.

“Julian has the patent for the antidote.”

“He needed a high-profile case to prove its effectiveness to the market.”

“The Rossi heir, saved from a mysterious, fatal genetic illness by a miracle drug.”