Chapter 2 - Dominic unbuckled his shoulder holster.
He set the leather rig and pistol on the walnut table.
The weight of the weapon struck the surface with a dull sound.
“The lines disappeared 3 hours ago.”
He looked at her.
“You are not going to a hotel.”
“You are staying where I can see you.”
Dr. Gregory arrived 18 minutes later.
He was small, efficient, and asked no questions.
He examined Clara in the guest room while Dominic stood near the living-room windows.
His mind moved through possibilities.
Rival families.
Contractors.
Federal pressure.
Internal betrayal.
The attack was too precise.
Clara was the gatekeeper.
She knew the organization’s rhythms more accurately than most capos.
If she had died on that bridge, the entire structure would have staggered.
Someone knew her route.
Someone knew when she left work.
Someone knew she drove home alone.
The bedroom door opened.
Gregory stepped out.
“How is she?”
“Lucky.”
The doctor closed his bag.
“Mild concussion.”
“3 cracked ribs, not completely broken.”
“Severe bruising.”
He continued.
“I cleaned the temple wound. She will probably have a small scar.”
“She needs actual sleep.”
Dominic nodded.
“Anything else?”
“Hydration.”
Gregory moved toward the door.
“If she becomes disoriented, severely dizzy, or her pupils become uneven, call me.”
Then he left.
Dominic went down the hallway.
Clara was sitting propped against pillows.
She had showered.
One of his spare black T-shirts hung around her like a dress.
Her hair was damp and brushed away from the bandage.
Dark bruises marked her jaw.
“How bad?”
“Manageable.”
Clara looked at him.
“Gregory has better bedside manners.”
A fraction of a smile appeared.
“I don’t pay him for his personality.”
Dominic pulled a leather chair beside the bed.
Then sat.
“Tell me about the SUV.”
The tone changed.
The boss had returned.
Clara adjusted herself carefully.
“Black.”
“Late model.”
“Probably Tahoe or Suburban.”
“No plates.”
“Windows around 5% tint.”
“I never saw the driver.”
“Did they follow you from work?”
“I don’t think so.”
She tried to remember.
“I checked when I entered the bridge.”
“Nothing behind me.”
“The SUV came from an on-ramp at around 80.”
She looked at him.
“They matched my speed and hit the rear quarter panel.”
Dominic recognized it immediately.
A PIT maneuver.
Professional.
“They were waiting.”
“Yes.”
Clara looked down.
“They knew the car.”
“The route.”
Dominic leaned back slightly.
“Only 5 people have access to your clearance and my schedule.”
Their eyes met.
“You have a rat.”
“I know.”
“If they know I survived, they’ll come again.”
A slight tremor entered her voice.
“I’m a loose end.”
Dominic reached toward her.
His palm rested against the side of her face.
His thumb stayed below the bandage.
The touch was warm.
Intimate in a way neither of them had permitted for 5 years.
Clara froze.
She did not pull away.
“There are no loose ends in my house.”
Dominic’s voice was low.
“You are not the target anymore.”
He looked directly into her eyes.
“You are the bait.”
Clara understood immediately.
“You’re going to use the fact that I survived.”
“I’m going to let them believe they still have a chance to finish what they started.”
Dominic slowly withdrew his hand.
“By tomorrow, everyone will know you are alive and recovering here.”
He continued.
“The rat will panic.”
“They will have to act before you identify them.”
He stood.
“When they reach into the trap, I break the arm.”
Clara watched him.
For years, she had managed the paper consequences of Dominic’s violence.
Now that violence was being positioned around her like armor.
“Sleep.”
Dominic went to the door.
“I have calls to make.”
He left it partly open.
Medication pulled Clara toward unconsciousness.
The last thing she heard was Dominic speaking into his phone.
“Leo.”
His voice was cold.
“Wake the cleanup crews.”
“Lock down the ports.”
A pause.
“Someone touched Clara.”
“I want the city turned inside out before dawn.”
Morning entered the penthouse as gray storm light.
Clara woke to voices and coffee.
For approximately 3 seconds, her mind convinced her she was in her own apartment preparing for a normal workday.
Then she tried to sit up.
Pain tore across her ribs.
She fell back against the pillows, breathless.
The bridge returned in fragments.
Black SUV.
Glass.
Cold water.
Rain.
Hospital.
Dominic.
Clara remained still for approximately 5 minutes, mapping the pain before moving again.
She pushed aside the duvet.
His black T-shirt reached nearly to her knees.
A pair of white slippers waited on the floor.
She stood slowly.
The room shifted.
Then stabilized.
The living area had changed completely.
The polished penthouse had become a war room.
Dominic sat at the marble island.
He was still in the previous night’s dark shirt, sleeves rolled over his forearms.
3 laptops were open.
Security feeds.
Encrypted messages.
Financial records.
His pistol lay disassembled beside a cleaning kit.
Leo stood across from him.
Clara knew Leo.
Large.
Silent.
Responsible for the physical problems Dominic did not solve with accounting.
Leo saw her.
“Morning, Clara.”
His voice was unexpectedly gentle.
Dominic did not immediately turn.
“You’re supposed to be in bed.”
“I’m supposed to be at work.”
Clara moved carefully toward the kitchen.
“My desk happens to be inside a crime scene.”
She sat opposite him.
Dominic pushed a mug toward her.
“Chamomile.”
He examined her condition.
“Gregory said no caffeine.”
Clara wrapped her hands around the mug.
“Thank you.”
Dominic looked back to Leo.
“Again.”
Leo checked the tablet.
“5 people have the master schedule.”
“Me.”
“You.”
“Vincent.”
“Thomas.”
“Richard.”
“It isn’t Leo,” Clara said.
Then:
“Not Vincent either.”
She sipped the tea.
“He has been in Chicago securing transit routes.”
“He doesn’t have local operational capacity to execute this quietly without anyone hearing.”
Dominic reassembled the pistol.
The slide snapped into place.
“Thomas and Richard.”
Thomas ran the docks.
Richard controlled accounting.
Both had served the Romano family for approximately 20 years.
“Thomas lost 3 shipments to federal seizures last month.”
Clara’s analytical tone returned.
“You reduced his import share.”
“He is losing money.”
She continued.
“Richard requested a Cayman transfer for restructuring.”
“I rejected it Tuesday because the documentation was incomplete.”
“Richard is a coward,” Leo said.
“He works with paper.”
“He doesn’t order contract hits.”
“Cowards order hits when embezzlement is about to become visible,” Dominic replied.
He loaded the pistol and set it down.
“We sent the story through the organization 1 hour ago.”
He looked at Clara.
“You survived.”
“Minor injuries.”
“You are here.”
“And you saw the driver.”
Clara’s pulse increased.
“You told them I can identify the shooter.”
“I told them you believe you can.”
Dominic drank his coffee.
“The difference creates urgency without being too obvious.”
He continued.
“We also made it appear that most of the penthouse security detail has been redeployed to search for the SUV.”
“Did you actually remove them?”
“No.”
A slight cold amusement passed over his face.
“I altered radio traffic.”
“The lobby guard has been replaced by 1 of Leo’s people.”
“The service elevator is unlocked.”
Clara looked around the glass apartment.
He was turning his home into a kill zone.
“If the rat is Thomas or Richard, neither one comes personally.”
She looked toward Dominic.
“They send professionals.”
“I know.”
“Then why are we sitting here?”
Dominic reached across the counter.
His hand covered hers briefly.
“Because they must believe the bait has no idea they’re coming.”
By 4:00 p.m., the rain had stopped.
Heavy gray clouds remained over the city.
Leo moved into the monitoring room.
Dominic and Clara remained in the main living space.
Clara lay curled on the sofa with a blanket across her legs and a tablet in her hands.
Waiting without work made the fear worse.
So she worked.
Encrypted transactions.
Corporate movements.
Richard’s accounts.
Dominic stood near the windows in a fitted dark sweater.
“You’re tracking Richard.”
Clara looked up.
“How did you know?”
“You breathe differently when numbers are wrong.”
She stared at him.
“Shorter exhale.”
He turned toward her.
“You’ve been doing it for 20 minutes.”
The specificity unsettled her.
He had not merely relied on her for 5 years.
He had observed her.
“Richard moved $3 million into a Panama shell company yesterday.”
Clara looked at the tablet.
“4 hours before the SUV hit me.”
She continued.
“He used an authorization code I retired last month.”
Dominic turned fully.
“He paid for the exit.”
“And the hit team.”
Clara nodded.
“Thomas has motive, but Richard has desperation.”
She scrolled.
“He knew I audit quarterly accounts Friday.”
“He knew the missing $3 million would surface.”
“So he had to remove me first.”
“Then disappear during the disruption.”
Dominic walked to the sofa.
“You found him.”
“I confirmed what you already suspected.”
“Suspected.”
He looked at her.
“You could have stayed in bed.”
“Taken the medication.”
“Waited.”
“Why are you still doing my accounting?”
Clara put down the tablet.
Pain moved through her ribs.
She ignored it.
“5 years ago, I walked into your office with a fake résumé.”
Dominic remained still.
“I had $50,000 of debt because my brother borrowed from people he should never have borrowed from.”
She looked at him.
“You knew the résumé was false.”
“You knew about the debt.”
“You hired me.”
“You paid it.”
Dominic’s expression did not change.
“I bought loyalty.”
“No.”
Clara’s answer came immediately.
“You bought my time.”
“My loyalty was mine.”
She held his eyes.
“You never treated me like a pawn.”
“You treated me like a partner.”
“And partners do not sleep while the house is being robbed.”
Something in Dominic’s face shifted.
He reached down.
His knuckles passed gently over the side of her cheek without touching the bruising.
“You are the only real thing in this entire empire.”
The words were almost whispered.
Before Clara could answer, an electronic signal sounded from the kitchen.
Dominic withdrew his hand instantly.
The atmosphere changed.
He moved to the laptop.
Leo’s voice came through the internal system.
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“Service-elevator sensors tripped.”
“The camera feed is looped.”
“Someone cut into the line.”
“How many?”
“Thermal shows 4 climbing the shaft.”
Leo’s voice stayed controlled.
“They bypassed the elevator car.”
“Professional equipment.”
“60 seconds to the ventilation access.”
“Richard hired ghosts.”
Dominic looked toward Clara.
“Stay on the sofa.”
Her ribs tightened beneath a surge of adrenaline.
“Dominic—”
“Do not move.”
His authority ended the discussion.
He picked up the pistol.
The weapon was already loaded.
He disappeared into the utility corridor.
Silence filled the apartment.
Rain began again, softly against the reinforced glass.
Clara held the tablet tightly.
40 seconds.
Then 3 suppressed shots sounded from the hall.
A heavy body struck the floor.
A scream began.
A fourth suppressed shot ended it.
Clara stopped breathing.
The tablet slipped in her fingers.
Burned propellant and metallic blood slowly contaminated the clean air.
Then nothing.
The silence after the gunfire was worse than the shooting itself.
Clara remained frozen.
The blanket was pulled tight over her chest.
May you like
Her ribs hurt, but adrenaline pushed the sensation aside.
A shadow emerged from the corridor.
