Chapter 2
He looked at her pale exhaustion.
The angry honesty in her eyes.
The complete absence of attachments.
A woman untethered from the world.
His thumb brushed her lower lip.
“You have no 1.”
“No.”
The answer was barely sound.
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
A dark satisfaction settled across his face.
“Perfect.”
His thumb remained beneath her lip.
The rough texture was the first thing Norah’s panicked mind could focus on.
These were not the hands of a man who spent his entire life behind a desk.
They were hands that built things.
And probably broke them.
“Perfect,” Dominic said again.
Then he let her go.
The loss of contact left her cheek strangely cold.
“Gather your things.”
His voice returned to flat authority.
He turned away and adjusted his shirt cuffs as though nothing had happened.
Norah blinked.
“My things?”
“Laptop. Charger. Coat.”
Dominic gestured toward her canvas tote bag.
“Whatever you require to work.”
He looked at her.
“You’re coming with me.”
“I have to report back to my firm. My manager expects—”
“Your manager will receive a call tomorrow morning.”
Dominic cut her off.
“He will be told you found the discrepancy, the client was satisfied, and you are taking several weeks of accrued vacation.”
Norah stared at him.
“I already purchased your firm’s compliance.”
His voice remained calm.
“They won’t look for you.”
Cold dread spread through her stomach.
“You can’t just take me.”
“Norah.”
Dominic turned toward her.
“You told me yourself.”
He spoke patiently.
“You have no 1. Nothing.”
His eyes held hers.
“You are a ghost moving through a life that demands nothing from you.”
A pause.
“I’m offering you an anchor.”
“You’re kidnapping me.”
“I’m employing you.”
Dominic planted both hands on the desk.
“Frank was stupid, but he wasn’t acting alone.”
He looked toward the spreadsheet.
“If he took more than $300,000, something is leaking farther up the structure.”
His attention returned to her.
“You found his theft in 6 hours.”
Dominic’s expression was completely serious.
“I want to see what you find in my real ledgers.”
Norah looked at Frank’s blood.
Then at the laptop.
Then at Dominic.
She understood cost-benefit analysis.
Refusing Dominic Gallow could end with her body in a shallow grave.
Agreeing meant waking up tomorrow.
Norah closed the laptop.
She unplugged the charger and wrapped the cable tightly around the power brick.
Pens.
Notebook.
Generic ibuprofen.
Everything went into the tote.
When she stood, her legs felt heavy.
Dominic watched her.
Approval flickered in his eyes.
He did not carry her bag.
He opened the door and allowed her to walk first.
The empty Cobalt Lounge felt cavernous.
The floor smelled of spilled vodka and citrus cleaner.
2 of Dominic’s men waited near the entrance.
They barely looked at Norah.
To them, she was logistics.
Outside, freezing mist clung instantly to her hair and soaked the thin blazer.
A black SUV waited at the curb.
1 man opened the rear door.
Dominic gestured.
Norah hesitated.
The car was a threshold.
Once she entered, she would cross something she could not uncross.
She searched the street.
No police.
No pedestrians.
Only rain, shadows, and a waiting engine.
“I don’t even know your last name.”
“Gallow.”
He stepped close behind her.
His body radiated heat through the freezing air.
“Dominic Gallow.”
His voice hardened.
“Get in the car, Norah.”
She did.
Dominic entered beside her.
The heavy door sealed them inside.
A glass divider separated them from the front.
The SUV pulled away.
Norah pushed herself against the door, creating as much distance as possible.
The city moved past the dark windows.
She tried to mourn the apartment she was abandoning.
The routine.
The life she understood.
Instead, she felt weightless.
Dominic had not simply identified her emptiness.
He had weaponized it.
She was completely unattached.
Which made her completely available to him.
“Stop thinking so loudly.”
Dominic’s voice came from the darkness beside her.
“I’m calculating my chances.”
“And?”
“The numbers say I’m a rounding error in a very dangerous equation.”
A real laugh came from Dominic.
Low.
Unexpectedly warm.
“You underestimate yourself.”
He shifted closer.
“You aren’t the rounding error.”
His voice lowered.
“You’re the bottom line.”
They drove for 1 hour.
The concrete grid disappeared.
The road became dark and wooded.
Large properties hid behind stone walls.
Norah’s phone buzzed.
An automated low-balance warning from her bank.
She ignored it.
It felt as though it belonged to someone already dead.
The SUV entered an unmarked drive and passed through iron gates that closed immediately behind them.
Ahead stood a sprawling modern estate constructed from dark wood, glass, and severe angles.
It looked less like a residence than a fortress pretending to be 1.
Rain intensified.
A man opened Norah’s door beneath an umbrella.
Dominic stepped out from the other side without bothering to shelter himself.
He waited at the oak entrance.
Inside, the house was aggressively silent.
Radiant heat warmed polished concrete.
Sparse abstract art covered the walls.
Everything looked expensive enough to exceed Norah’s lifetime income.
A tall man with graying temples waited in the foyer.
“Victor.”
Dominic removed his wet coat.
Victor took it.
“Sir, the warehouse called. Frank is secured.”
“Leave him in the dark until tomorrow.”
Dominic did not sound concerned.
Then he looked at Norah.
She stood awkwardly on the entry mat, shivering.
“Show Miss Miller to the east guest room.”
He turned away.
“Bring her dry clothes.”
“Of course.”
Victor gave Norah a professional nod.
“If you’ll follow me, ma’am.”
Norah glanced toward Dominic.
He was already walking down another corridor.
He did not look back.
The dismissal irritated her more than it should have.
She followed Victor upstairs.
The east guest room was larger than her apartment.
A king-size bed occupied the center beneath a charcoal duvet.
Floor-to-ceiling windows faced the black, rain-soaked forest.
No photographs.
No personal objects.
Luxury stripped of intimacy.
Victor set her tote bag on a leather bench.
He opened a closet and removed thick gray sweatpants and a black long-sleeved shirt.
“The bathroom is there. Towels are inside.”
He paused.
“Would you like food?”
“No.”
Her stomach was too tight.
“Thank you.”
Victor left.
The door clicked.
Norah stood alone.
A stray dog inside an expensive kennel.
She went to the bathroom.
Eucalyptus.
Stone.
Glass.
Norah removed the damp blazer, cheap blouse, and restrictive slacks.
She stood beneath scalding water until her skin turned red.
She tried to wash Frank’s blood from her memory.
Afterward, she dressed in the borrowed clothing.
Both pieces were too large.
The black shirt smelled faintly like Dominic.
Cold iron and clean fabric.
When Norah returned to the bedroom, she stopped.
Dominic sat in an armchair in the corner.
He had changed into black trousers and a dark Henley.
A crystal tumbler of amber liquor rested in his hand.
Norah’s heart slammed.
She folded her arms across herself.
“How did you get in? I didn’t hear the door.”
May you like
“It’s my house.”
Dominic drank slowly.
