Chapter 1 - The Lie That Couldn’t Survive the Night
Norah Hayes had lied to dangerous men before.
She had lied to landlords about when rent would arrive. She had lied to hospital billing departments about checks already being mailed. She had lied to herself every morning for twenty-one weeks that she could keep carrying Dominic Russo’s child beneath oversized sweaters without the most suspicious man in Chicago noticing.
But she had never lied while Dominic stood three feet away, staring directly into her eyes.
“I have a mass,” she said.
The words tasted poisonous.
Dominic’s expression changed.
Not dramatically. Dominic rarely gave anyone that luxury. But the hard line between his eyebrows disappeared, replaced by something Norah had never expected to see.
Fear.
“A tumor?”
“They think it’s benign.”
“Who is they?”
“The clinic.”
“What doctor?”
“Dominic—”
“What doctor, Norah?”
She swallowed.
“Dr. Aris.”
His glass hit the side table.
“Get your coat.”
“What?”
“We’re going back.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Dominic stopped.
Norah felt the trap close around her.
“I said no.”
His eyes narrowed. “You tell me you may have a tumor and expect me to leave it to some cash clinic?”
“It’s my body.”
“And Lily loves you.”
The words struck harder than anger would have.
Dominic moved closer.
“If something happens to you, my daughter loses the only person she trusts when I’m not here. So forgive me if your privacy is temporarily less important than keeping you alive.”
Norah’s throat tightened.
If only he knew.
She stepped backward.
“Tomorrow.”
“Tonight.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“Then my doctor comes here.”
“No!”
Dominic froze.
Silence filled the room.
Norah realized her hand had instinctively moved across her stomach.
She lowered it.
Too late.
Dominic looked down.
Then back at her face.
His suspicion sharpened.
“Why are you frightened of a doctor?”
“I’m not.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m tired.”
“You’re lying.”
The front door opened before Norah could answer.
Lily ran into the foyer carrying a drawing.
“Nora!”
Norah turned gratefully.
The child raced toward her, but one sock caught against the polished floor.
She slipped.
Norah lunged instinctively.
Dominic moved at the same time.
He caught Lily before she hit the ground.
Norah’s grocery bag fell.
Tea rolled across the floor.
A magazine slid beneath the table.
And something small and glossy fluttered from the inside pocket of Norah’s coat.
It landed faceup between Dominic’s shoes.
Nobody moved.
Norah stared at it.
Dominic stared at it.
The ultrasound photograph seemed impossibly bright against the dark hardwood.
Lily leaned over Dominic’s arm.
“Is that a baby?”
Norah stopped breathing.
Dominic slowly lowered Lily to her feet.
“Go find Maria.”
“But—”
“Now, Bug.”
Something in his voice made the child obey.
Her footsteps disappeared.
Dominic bent.
Norah moved.
“Don’t.”
He picked up the ultrasound.
His eyes passed over the image.
Then the printed information along the edge.
Patient: Norah Hayes.
Gestational age: 21 weeks.
His face became utterly still.
“Twenty-one weeks.”
Norah said nothing.
Dominic calculated immediately.
She watched him do it.
Twenty-one weeks.
The safe room.
The night they had believed the compound might fall.
The night Dominic had kissed her like a man drowning.
His fingers tightened around the photograph.
“Who?”
Norah’s chest hurt.
“Give it back.”
“Who is the father?”
“That isn’t your business.”
His gaze snapped toward her.
For the first time since she had met him, Dominic looked wounded rather than dangerous.
“You work in my house. You raise my daughter. Someone gets close enough to you to—”
He stopped.
Because he had calculated again.
His eyes changed.
“No.”
Norah looked away.
Dominic took one step toward her.
“Norah.”
“Please.”
“Look at me.”
She couldn’t.
His voice dropped.
“That night?”
Tears filled her eyes.
That answered him.
Dominic went pale.
“My child?”
Norah finally looked up.
The infamous Dominic Russo stood beneath the chandelier holding an ultrasound photograph with a trembling hand.
She had seen him covered in blood without shaking.
She had watched armed men enter his office and leave unable to meet his eyes.
She had heard stories about what happened to people who betrayed him.
Yet a photograph no larger than his palm had broken through every wall he possessed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Norah laughed once, bitterly.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Because I know who you are.”
His jaw tightened.
“And what exactly does that mean?”
“It means you track phones. You investigate everyone. You decide what people need before asking what they want. You control this house, Dominic. You control your men. You control Lily’s security. You control everything.”
Her voice cracked.
“And I knew the second you learned this baby existed, you would try to control us too.”
“Us.”
He repeated the word softly.
Norah touched her stomach.
“Me and my baby.”
“Our baby.”
“No.”
His eyes hardened.
“That is my child.”
“And that is exactly why I was afraid.”
Dominic stared at her.
Something flickered across his face.
Then Norah felt it.
A sudden tightening low in her abdomen.
She gasped.
Her hand flew to the counter.
Dominic dropped the ultrasound.
“Norah?”
Another cramp came.
Stronger.
She bent forward.
“No. No, no…”
Dominic caught her before her knees hit the floor.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know.”
His anger disappeared instantly.
“Look at me.”
“Dominic, the baby—”
He lifted her into his arms.
Within seconds, the house exploded into movement.
“Car!” Dominic shouted.
Men appeared from every doorway.
“Get Dr. Bennett on the phone. Northwestern. Now.”
Norah clutched his jacket.
“I don’t want your men—”
“I don’t care.”
“Dominic!”
His eyes met hers.
There was no criminal boss in them now.
Only terror.
“You can hate me tomorrow,” he said. “Tonight, I’m keeping both of you alive.”
As he carried her through the front doors, neither noticed the man standing beyond the security monitors in the west corridor.
Victor Russo watched them leave.
Dominic’s uncle looked down at the ultrasound photograph he had quietly picked up from the floor.
Then he took out his phone.
He photographed it.
And sent the image to someone saved beneath a single letter.
R.
May you like
His message contained only five words.
The Russo heir is real.
