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Touch My Son, Touch Your Death Novel Cover

Touch My Son, Touch Your Death

When Leo is brutally injured during a rigged boxing match, his father faces the cruelty of Isabella, a woman claiming her own child is the sole Falcone heir. After enduring her insults and physical glass-lined traps, the protagonist decides to stop hiding his identity. He contacts the Don, a man indebted to his own father, to expose the truth. In this intense action and mystery story, a hidden legacy is reclaimed to safeguard a grandson from those daring to touch the true bloodline.
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Chapter 3

A tall, imposing figure appeared in the doorway.

Vito.

The family’s Consigliere. An old-timer loyal to my father's memory.

Silver-haired, dressed in a sharp black suit, leaning on a silver-tipped cane.

Just his presence was enough to silence the room and chill the blood.

Even the bodyguards holding me down instinctively let go.

"Mr. Vito!" Isabella immediately put on a fawning smile. "You're just in time. This crazy woman…"

Vito didn't even glance at her. He walked straight to me.

He saw my injuries, his eyes flashing with guilt. But then his gaze fell on Leo’s mangled, bloody hand. In an instant, the guilt was gone. Replaced by a cold, murderous rage.

"Who did this?"

"Vito, where is my medical team?" I struggled to stand, my voice shaking.

Vito's face was grim. "I'm sorry, my Queen. They were intercepted on the way."

He played me a recording.

Marco's voice, bored and dismissive.

"Vito, the teacher said Leo is doing fine at school. You just rest up at the nursing home. Don't waste the family's medical resources."

"I'll come get you in a couple of days when Arabella is back."

Vito looked down, ashamed.

"For three years, Marco has used my 'poor health' as an excuse to push me out of the inner circle. He's filled the family with his own men. My orders… they don't get through anymore."

My heart sank.

Marco's betrayal ran deeper than I'd imagined.

He hadn't just cheated on me. In the three years I was gone, he had systematically stripped me of my power in the family.

Back then, to protect his fragile male ego, I never announced that he only rose to power because of me.

Instead, I stepped into the background, encouraging him to build his own authority.

I had raised a viper.

"But," Vito leaned in, his voice low, "Your 'Ghost' unit is on its way. They'll be here in ten minutes."

My heart steadied a little.

The Ghosts. My elite private force. Wherever they went, they left only three things behind.

Men on their knees, men on the ground, and men who would never speak again.

Just then, the sound of car engines came from outside the estate.

Several doctors in white coats hurried in.

Vito's eyes lit up.

"It seems Marco still has some feeling for you."

But the doctors didn't even look at Leo. They went straight to Isabella.

"Miss Isabella, does your face still hurt?" the lead doctor asked respectfully. "We brought the best anti-swelling medication."

Isabella was stunned for a moment.

But after seeing the family order the doctor handed her, her respectful act vanished.

"Mr. Vito," she cooed, "I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed."

She waved the document in the air.

"This is a family order, signed by Marco himself. Due to your advanced age and senility, you are hereby relieved of your duties as Consigliere."

Vito's eyes narrowed. He snorted.

"My position isn't for you to decide."

Isabella’s lips curled into a sneer.

"Let me be clear. You're just an old dog the family keeps on a leash. When my man tells you to get lost, you get lost."

Her eyes darted between Vito and me. A look of realization dawned on her face.

"Ah, now I get it. That's why she has so much nerve. You’re her old lover, aren't you, Vito?"

Vito roared, "Insolence! You will not speak of the Queen that way!"

Isabella's laughter was sharp.

"Oh, I have the power. Making you two disappear from Chicago is as easy as lifting a finger."

She took out her phone and opened a black app.

"Since you won't learn your lesson, don't blame me for what comes next. This is the underworld’s hit list. An open market. The second I put Leo's name on it, every killer in North America will be coming for his head."

I replied coolly, "Is that so? Go ahead and try."

"Oh, I will! Anyone on the kill list ends up crippled or dead. You're finished!"

Isabella sneered as she began typing on her phone. "Let's see… Leo Falcone… one-million-dollar bounty…"

Her fingers flew across the screen.

But suddenly, she froze.

I watched her, my face a cold mask.

"What…" She stared at the screen, her face turning pale. "How can this be…"

A red warning flashed on her phone:

`ACCESS DENIED. TARGET IS CLASSIFIED: ALPHA-LEVEL PROTECTION.`

She didn't believe it. She tried again.

`ACCESS DENIED. TARGET IS CLASSIFIED: ALPHA-LEVEL PROTECTION.`

`ACCESS DENIED. TARGET IS CLASSIFIED: ALPHA-LEVEL PROTECTION.`

The same message, every time.

She looked up in a panic, scanning the crowd.

"This… this is impossible!"

Of course, she didn't know.

My identity and Leo's are encrypted at the highest security level of the entire underworld network.

Her clearance level wasn't high enough to even view our files.

The guests below started whispering, their expressions shifting.

"Alpha-level protection? Doesn't that mean...?"

"No way. I thought they were nobodies."

"The system doesn't lie."

"I knew there was something about her. That quiet power... that's a real queen. Isabella is just a loud-mouthed whore in a fancy dress."

Hearing the crowd, Isabella got so angry she smashed her phone screen.

"The system must be broken! Just you wait!"

Just then, the main doors of the estate were thrown open.

A man in a custom-tailored suit strode in, flanked by his men.

"Who's the fool that made my woman unhappy?"

Isabella saw him and immediately puffed out her chest, lifting her chin at me in defiance.

She smirked at me. "My man is here. It’s over for you."

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