Chapter 5 - THE PRICE OF PROTECTION
The darkness lasted four seconds.
Four seconds were enough for the hospital's emergency lighting to activate, but not enough for Norah to stop trembling.
Tyler woke immediately.
"Norah?"
She pointed toward the envelope.
He read the message.
His face changed.
"Who sent this?"
"I don't know."
The door opened.
Two security men entered.
"Mr. Moretti asked us to move you to a secure room."
Tyler stood.
"Nobody's moving my sister anywhere."
"Sir, this isn't optional."
Tyler stepped between them and the bed.
"Try me."
Before the situation could escalate, Dante appeared.
"Tyler."
Tyler turned.
"Don't use my name like we're friends."
"We're not."
"Then explain why my sister is being followed."
Dante placed the photograph on the table.
"Someone connected to Grant wants her silent."
"How do you know?"
"Because I have people looking into it."
Tyler laughed bitterly.
"And you expect me to trust a man whose business is built on intimidation?"
Dante didn't deny it.
"No. I expect you to protect your sister."
He looked toward Norah.
"Can you walk?"
She nodded.
"Good. We'll move you somewhere safer."
"Where?"
"My estate."
Tyler immediately objected.
"Absolutely not."
Norah looked at her brother.
"Tyler, please. I don't want to go back to the apartment."
His anger softened.
"Then we'll get you a hotel."
"Someone knows where I am."
Tyler had no answer.
Dante waited.
Finally, Norah spoke.
"I'll go."
The Moretti estate stood beyond a long private road surrounded by trees.
The gates opened before the convoy reached them.
Norah stared through the window.
The house looked less like a home and more like a European palace hidden in the American countryside.
There were guards at the entrance, cameras on every corner, and black vehicles parked beneath the stone portico.
"How many people live here?" she asked.
"Usually, twenty-three," Dante replied.
"Twenty-three?"
"Staff and security."
"Do you always need that many people?"
"Not always."
She glanced at him.
"When do you?"
"When someone makes the mistake of trying to kill me."
Norah looked away.
She wasn't sure whether he was joking.
The guest room was larger than her entire apartment.
A nurse examined her injuries, changed her medication schedule, and explained that healing would take time.
Dante arranged for a private security detail outside her door.
Norah didn't like it.
She didn't like locked gates, unfamiliar hallways, or men who watched her every movement.
Most of all, she didn't like feeling dependent on a stranger.
That evening, she found Dante alone in the library.
"Can I ask you something?"
He closed his laptop.
"Yes."
"Why are you doing this?"
He didn't answer immediately.
"Someone once needed me, and I wasn't there."
Norah studied his face.
"Your sister?"
His eyes lifted.
"Who told you?"
"No one. I guessed."
Dante looked toward the dark windows.
"She died six years ago."
"I'm sorry."
He nodded once.
Norah sat across from him.
"Did you blame yourself?"
"Every day."
She looked down at her hands.
"That's what I did with Grant. I kept thinking if I had been quieter, kinder, more patient, he wouldn't have hurt me."
Dante's voice became unusually firm.
"His choices were not your fault."
Norah looked up.
He continued.
"Not one of them."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Dante's phone rang.
Nico.
Dante answered.
"What?"
"We found the person who sent the photograph."
"Who?"
A pause.
"Your sister's former driver."
Dante stood.
"Where is he?"
"Dead."
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"When?"
"Six years ago. Three days after Elena's accident."
He looked at Norah.
Then Nico added something else.
"Boss, there's a second problem."
May you like
"What?"
"Grant Miller has been released."
