Chapter 4 - THE DINNER TRAP
Dominic did not believe Norah.
At least that was what he told himself.
He had spent thirty-six years surviving men who lied while smiling and promised loyalty while calculating funeral arrangements.
Victor Rizzo had taught him half of those lessons.
Victor had attended his first communion.
His mother’s funeral.
His college graduation.
When Dominic was seventeen and Salvatore had slapped him hard enough to split his lip for refusing to participate in “family business,” Victor had quietly given him ice and said, “Your father only knows how to love through fear.”
For years Dominic had thought the sentence compassionate.
Now he wondered whether it had been preparation.
The meeting took place the following evening.
Six senior men gathered in the Moretti library.
Victor sat on Dominic’s right.
Frank stood near the door.
Norah had been explicitly ordered to remain upstairs.
Naturally, she did not.
At 8:17 p.m., Dominic looked through the library doorway and found her pretending to examine a nineteenth-century landscape painting in the corridor.
He stepped outside.
“What are you doing?”
“Walking.”
“With a stethoscope?”
“I’m a nurse.”
“You’re supposed to be with my father.”
“He’s asleep.”
“You are impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Go upstairs.”
“No.”
Dominic stared at her.
Norah lowered her voice.
“He said you’re in danger tonight.”
“My father also spent decades thinking federal judges could be bought with golf memberships.”
“Could they?”
Dominic paused.
“That’s irrelevant.”
She almost smiled.
Then her face became serious.
“His blood pressure rises whenever Victor enters the room. Victor signed medication records with doses that could have suppressed his cognition. Your father tried to warn you.”
Dominic looked toward the closed library doors.
“What do you expect me to do? Accuse my godfather of attempted murder because an aphasic eighty-year-old blinked at an alphabet chart?”
“I expect you to stay alive long enough to investigate.”
For several seconds they stood too close.
Norah noticed the faint scar near Dominic’s eyebrow.
Dominic noticed a tiny silver cross at her throat.
Neither mentioned either.
Frank appeared.
“They’re waiting.”
Dominic returned inside.
Norah walked upstairs.
Or at least appeared to.
Instead she stopped on the landing where the library voices carried through the old heating vent.
She told herself she was protecting a patient’s family.
Not eavesdropping on organized crime.
The distinction felt weak.
Inside the library, Victor presented documents.
“A restructuring.”
Dominic turned pages.
Three shipping companies.
Two construction firms.
A private security contractor.
Ordinary businesses on paper.
But several ownership percentages had changed.
“Why does Bellweather Holdings suddenly control twelve percent?”
Victor poured himself whiskey.
“Tax efficiency.”
“Bellweather belongs to your nephew.”
Victor smiled.
“My nephew manages it.”
“Same difference.”
One of the older men shifted uncomfortably.
Victor leaned back.
“You’ve been distracted.”
Dominic looked up.
“By what?”
“Your father.”
“My father has been dying for months.”
“Exactly.”
The room became quiet.
Victor continued.
“He built the machine. You inherited it. But machines require attention.”
Dominic closed the folder.
“If you’re questioning my leadership, do it directly.”
Victor smiled.
“There’s the Moretti temper.”
Then Frank’s phone buzzed.
He checked it.
His expression changed.
Dominic noticed.
“What?”
Frank looked toward Victor.
Then at Dominic.
“The kitchen says someone requested champagne.”
Victor shrugged.
“So?”
“We don’t have anyone dining tonight.”
Dominic’s instincts fired.
He stood.
At that exact moment, the library windows exploded.
Gunfire tore through the room.
Men dove behind furniture.
Dominic hit the floor as bullets ripped through the bookshelves.
Frank drew his weapon.
Another burst shattered a lamp.
“Back corridor!” Frank shouted.
Dominic crawled behind the stone fireplace.
Outside, tires screamed across gravel.
Then silence.
It had lasted perhaps eleven seconds.
Two guards were injured.
One seriously.
Nobody inside the library had been killed.
Victor emerged from behind an overturned chair.
His suit was covered in plaster dust.
“Someone knew about this meeting.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Yes.”
Victor’s gaze held his.
“Someone did.”
Upstairs, Norah heard the shots.
She ran toward Salvatore’s room.
The old man was awake.
Wild-eyed.
She locked the door behind her.
“Stay down.”
She moved his wheelchair away from the window.
Salvatore grabbed her arm.
“Dominic is alive.”
He did not release her.
“We’ll find out.”
A crash sounded in the hallway.
Norah froze.
Someone tried the door.
Once.
Twice.
Then a man’s voice.
“Miss Gallagher?”
Not Frank.
Norah pushed Salvatore into the bathroom and locked that door.
She grabbed the only object available.
A heavy brass lamp.
The bedroom door splintered inward.
A masked man entered.
Norah swung.
The lamp struck his shoulder.
He cursed and caught her wrist.
She drove her knee upward.
He staggered.
Salvatore appeared in the bathroom doorway.
Somehow he had released the wheelchair brake.
His good hand held a small antique revolver.
Norah stared.
“Mr. Moretti—”
The intruder reached inside his coat.
Salvatore fired.
The bullet struck the wall beside the man’s head.
The intruder fled.
Norah’s ears rang.
Salvatore lowered the gun.
She stared at him.
“You have been hiding a gun in the bathroom?”
Salvatore blinked.
“Yes.
“You are the worst patient I’ve ever had.”
One blink.
Norah almost laughed from pure adrenaline.
Footsteps pounded down the corridor.
The bedroom door burst open.
Dominic entered with Frank behind him.
He saw the shattered door.
The bullet hole.
Norah.
His father holding a revolver.
His face changed.
“Norah.”
“I’m fine.”
Dominic crossed the room so quickly that she barely had time to react.
His hands caught her shoulders.
“Were you hit?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He checked her arms anyway.
Norah noticed his hands were shaking.
Only slightly.
But shaking.
“I said I’m fine.”
Dominic looked directly into her eyes.
Something unguarded appeared there.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
Then he seemed to realize he was touching her.
His hands dropped.
Frank examined the window.
“There was someone inside.”
Norah nodded.
“He came specifically to this room.”
Dominic turned toward Salvatore.
His father pointed toward the bed.
Norah retrieved the board.
The message took ten minutes.
VICTOR KNEW.
Dominic looked toward the corridor.
Norah whispered, “Do you believe him now?”
Dominic did not answer.
Frank’s phone rang.
He listened.
Then looked at Dominic.
“The shooters used one of our own access codes at the north gate.”
Victor appeared in the doorway behind him.
“How convenient.”
Everyone turned.
Victor stared at Salvatore.
Then Norah.
Then Dominic.
“We have a traitor.”
Salvatore’s fingers tightened around the wheelchair arm.
Victor continued.
“And until we know who it is, nobody leaves this estate.”
May you like
His eyes settled on Norah.
“Nobody.”
