Chapter 6 - The Secret in the Basement and the First Real Steps
The board meeting was scheduled for 10:00 AM in the grand mahogany dining hall on the ground floor.
At 6:00 AM, while the rest of the estate was asleep, Tessa and Dr. Bennett prepared me for what would be the most critical physical trial of my life.
For the past week, we had been working secretly with heavy-duty carbon-fiber leg braces that Dr. Bennett had smuggled into the house piece by piece inside medical equipment crates. These braces were ultra-thin, designed to fit completely undetected beneath the tailored fabric of my bespoke trousers.
“The braces will provide structural stability to your knee joints,” Bennett explained as Tessa carefully strapped the lightweight supports around my calves and thighs. “Your neural signals are returning, but your stabilizing tendons are still weak. If you try to bear full weight without support, your knees will buckle, and you will tear the patellar ligaments.”
“I don't care about the pain,” I said, adjusting the cuffs of my crisp white dress shirt. “I just need to stand for ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes is an eternity when your spine has been compressed for half a year,” Tessa warned, kneeling before me to tie the laces of my Italian leather oxford shoes. She looked up into my eyes, her expression fiercely protective. “You don't push past the threshold. When you feel the braces lock, you let your skeleton carry the weight, not your pride.”
“Help me up,” I said.
Tessa stood. Dr. Bennett took my left side, and Tessa took my right.
They grabbed the heavy canvas transfer belt around my waist.
“On three,” Tessa said, her eyes locked on mine. “One... two... three!”
With a violent surge of effort, I engaged every remaining muscle in my core, glutes, and thighs.
My vision flashed white with agony. A searing sensation, like liquid glass pouring down my spinal column, exploded through my lower back. My teeth ground together so hard I tasted copper from my gums.
My knees wobbled violently. The carbon-fiber braces let out a faint, mechanical click as they locked into place.
Bennett and Tessa slowly released their grip on the belt.
I was standing.
On my own two feet.
Six feet two inches of Corvino blood, standing tall in the center of the room.
Tessa stood inches away, her hands hovering near my waist, ready to catch me if I collapsed. Her breath was rapid, her face flushed with emotion.
“You're doing it,” she whispered, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “Look at you. You're standing.”
I looked into the full-length mirror across the room.
I was no longer a broken man trapped beneath silk sheets.
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I was the predator who owned the docks.
“Let's go downstairs,” I said, my voice steady as stone. “It’s time to attend my own funeral.”
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