Chapter 3 - The Gold Lighter
Nora couldn’t breathe.
The room spun, the edges of her vision darkening. Declan Shaw was standing inside Dominic Russo’s study. He was wearing a security uniform. He had a gun holstered at his hip.
Three days ago, he had nearly broken her arm for speaking too loudly. Yesterday, he had burned her for trying to leave. Now, he was looking at her with that same hollow, dead-eyed amusement.
“Everything alright in here, boss?” Declan asked smoothly, his gaze never leaving Nora’s pale face.
Dominic looked from the shattered glass on the floor to Nora. He didn't miss a thing. He saw how the blood had completely drained from her cheeks. He saw how she instinctively stepped backward, placing herself between the sofa where Leo sat and the door where Declan stood.
“Just a broken glass, Shaw,” Dominic said. His tone was perfectly level, but his posture had shifted. The relaxed billionaire was gone; the predator had surfaced. “Wait outside. I’ll call for you when I need you.”
Declan’s jaw twitched. He wasn't used to being dismissed, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Before stepping out, Declan reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold lighter. He flipped it open, letting the flame catch the light for just a second, before snapping it shut. Click.
It was the same lighter he had used to heat the cigarette yesterday.
The door clicked shut.
Nora’s knees gave out.
She collapsed onto the carpet, wrapping her arms around her stomach as a panic attack ripped through her chest. She couldn't get enough air. He had found her. He had known exactly where she was going.
“Breathe,” a voice commanded.
Dominic was suddenly in front of her, crouching on the floor. He didn't touch her. He kept a respectful distance, but his presence was a heavy anchor in the room.
“Look at me,” Dominic ordered softly.
Nora forced her eyes up to meet his.
“He’s the one,” Dominic stated. It wasn't a question.
Nora gave a single, frantic nod. “He’s going to kill me. He told me if I ever tried to leave, he would find me. I didn't know he worked for you. I swear I didn't know.”
“He doesn't,” Dominic said, his jaw tightening.
Nora blinked through her tears, confused. “But he’s wearing your security uniform.”
“We outsourced extra muscle for the gala tonight from a private firm,” Dominic explained, his eyes darkening with a dangerous realization. “I don't know him. But if he’s here, it’s not a coincidence. A man like that doesn't take a minimum-wage guard shift unless he’s looking for something.”
Dominic stood up and walked to his massive mahogany desk. He pressed a button on the intercom.
“Marcus. Get up here. Bring two of your best men. We have a rat in the house.”
Nora scrambled to her feet. “I have to go. Please. If I can just get to the bus station—”
“You’re not going anywhere near a bus station,” Dominic interrupted, turning back to her. “If he tracked you here, he knows where your things are. You step outside this mansion, you’re dead.”
Leo hopped off the sofa. The little boy walked over to Nora and gently tugged on the hem of her gray coat. When she looked down, Leo pressed something into her hand.
It was a small, crumpled receipt.
Nora gasped. She patted her coat pockets frantically. It was the receipt for locker 402 at the Greyhound station. It must have fallen out when she lunged for the wine bottle.
“Where did you get this?” Nora whispered.
Leo pointed toward the hallway, then signed, He was looking for it.
Dominic walked over and took the receipt from Nora’s shaking hand. He stared at the numbers printed on the cheap thermal paper.
“Locker 402,” Dominic read aloud. He looked up at Nora, his eyes piercing straight through her. “What’s in the locker, Nora?”
“My clothes,” she cried defensively. “A few hundred dollars. That’s it! That’s everything I have!”
“A man doesn't infiltrate my security detail and risk a bullet to the head for a few hundred dollars and old clothes,” Dominic said coldly. “I’m going to ask you one more time. What did you take from him?”
Nora stared at him, bewildered. “Nothing! I just took my canvas backpack!”
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Dominic held up the receipt. “Then someone else put something in your bag. And whoever it is, they’re willing to slaughter everyone in this house to get it back.”
Before Nora could process the words, a deafening explosion shook the mansion, rattling the windows and plunging the entire ballroom into absolute darkness.
