Chapter 3 - The Locked House
Emergency lights flooded the bedroom red.
Dominic moved first.
He pushed Norah behind him while reaching beneath his jacket.
A handgun appeared in his hand.
“Stay behind me.”
“You think someone is inside?”
“I know someone is inside.”
A scream rose somewhere downstairs.
Then glass shattered.
Dominic opened the bedroom door.
Four armed guards appeared almost instantly.
“East wing secure,” one said.
“Generator?”
“Cut manually.”
Dominic looked at Norah.
“Dr. Levin stays with her.”
“I’m not staying anywhere.”
His gaze sharpened.
“This isn’t an argument.”
“It became one when someone threatened my baby.”
The words escaped before she could stop them.
My baby.
Norah touched her stomach.
Everything suddenly became real.
There was a life inside her.
Tiny.
Unknown.
Innocent.
Dominic heard the change too.
His face softened for one heartbeat.
Then another man rushed upstairs.
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“We found somebody in the service corridor.”
“Alive?”
“For now.”
Dominic started toward the stairs.
Norah followed.
He turned.
“No.”
“You want to know who poisoned me?”
“Yes.”
“So do I.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“I’m not made of glass.”
“No. You’re carrying the one thing in this house somebody is willing to kill for.”
Norah stared at him.
“The one thing?”
Something passed across his face.
He regretted saying it.
Before she could ask, a woman hurried upstairs carrying a medical bag.
Dr. Miriam Levin was in her 50s, composed and sharp-eyed.
She checked Norah while Dominic disappeared downstairs.
“The baby appears fine,” she eventually said. “But you’re severely dehydrated, anemic, exhausted, and your blood pressure is too low.”
Norah looked toward the doorway.
“What sedative was in my system?”
Dr. Levin stopped.
“Who told you?”
“Dominic.”
The physician sighed.
“Trace amounts of midazolam.”
“But I didn't drink the champagne.”
“That means you ingested it another way.”
Norah remembered the kitchen.
Black coffee.
A paper cup she had left unattended.
Someone had drugged her before she entered the ballroom.
The realization turned her stomach.
“Could it hurt the baby?”
“The amount detected was small. Right now, the pregnancy appears stable.”
Right now.
Norah hated those words.
Twenty minutes later, Dominic returned.
There was blood across one knuckle.
Norah looked at it.
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt him?”
Dominic did not answer.
That was answer enough.
“Who is he?”
“A temporary kitchen worker.”
“Name?”
“Fake.”
“Why me?”
Silence again.
Norah stepped closer.
“Dominic, somebody threatened an unborn child I didn’t even know existed. Stop treating me like furniture you can move into a safe room.”
His jaw tightened.
Then he dismissed everyone.
When the door closed, he reached into his pocket.
A photograph landed on the table.
Norah picked it up.
A younger Dominic stood beside another man.
They looked similar.
Brothers, perhaps.
Between them stood an elegant silver-haired man.
Dominic pointed to the younger man.
“My brother. Julian.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
Norah looked up.
“Six years ago, Julian was supposed to inherit half of Rossy Holdings.”
“Supposed to?”
“He died before my father.”
Dominic stared at the photograph.
“Officially, a car accident.”
“And unofficially?”
“Someone cut the brake line.”
Norah swallowed.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“My father changed the family trust after Julian died. If I died without a biological child, control of the voting shares would pass to my uncle Vittorio.”
Norah understood.
“But now…”
“Now it won’t.”
She looked down at her stomach.
“So this isn't about a baby.”
“It is to me.”
“To whoever did this, it’s about billions.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Dominic looked at her.
“Rossy-controlled assets exceed $18 billion.”
Norah laughed once in disbelief.
Yesterday she had worried about a $76 electricity bill.
Today someone wanted her unborn child dead over $18 billion.
“This is insane.”
“Yes.”
“I’m leaving New York.”
“No.”
“There’s that word again.”
“Running makes you easier to kill.”
“And staying beside a mafia boss makes me safe?”
Dominic absorbed the insult without reacting.
“No,” he said quietly. “Staying beside me makes anyone trying to reach you expose themselves.”
That was somehow worse.
Norah walked toward the window.
“Who knows I’m pregnant?”
“Dr. Levin. Me. Two security officers.”
“And the person who wrote that note.”
“Yes.”
“So someone knew before we did.”
Dominic went still.
Norah turned.
Neither spoke.
That was the real problem.
Someone had known.
Someone had known enough to delete her employment records.
Enough to alter her emergency contact.
Enough to drug her.
Enough to know about a pregnancy Norah herself had not discovered.
A knock interrupted them.
Dominic’s security chief entered.
“Boss, you need to see this.”
He handed Dominic a tablet.
Security footage.
Kitchen.
11:13 p.m.
Norah appeared on screen, picking up her coffee.
A shadow crossed behind her.
A hand entered frame.
Dropped something into the cup.
Norah leaned closer.
“Pause.”
The image froze.
Only part of the person was visible.
A black sleeve.
A silver cuff link.
A hand.
And a distinctive ring.
Dominic stopped breathing.
Norah noticed.
“You recognize it.”
He did not answer.
“Dominic.”
His face had lost color.
“That ring belonged to my father.”
Norah stared at the screen.
“You said your father was dead.”
“He is.”
“Then who has his ring?”
Dominic enlarged the image.
His voice became almost inaudible.
“My brother.”
Norah looked at him.
“You said Julian died.”
Dominic stared at the security footage.
“I watched them bury him.”
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Dominic answered.
May you like
A man's voice came through the speaker.
“Hello, brother.”
