Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Knew How to Stop Death
The night Leo was shot, Harper was in the basement laundry room.
The machines drowned out everything.
Then the service door slammed open.
“Get a kit!”
Harper dropped the sheets.
Men carried Leo inside.
Blood soaked his shirt.
Damian entered behind them.
“Put him down!”
Leo's breathing was shallow.
“Where's the doctor?”
“Ten minutes out.”
“He doesn't have ten minutes.”
Damian dropped beside Leo and pressed his hands against the wound.
Harper looked once.
Then she moved.
“Your hands are slipping.”
Damian looked up.
“What?”
“Move.”
No one spoke to Damian Costa that way.
Apparently, Harper didn't know that.
Or didn't care.
She grabbed a towel.
“Pressure here.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“No.”
“Then—”
“He'll die if you keep arguing.”
Damian obeyed.
Harper packed the wound.
She ordered the guards around.
She cut away Leo's shirt.
She improvised a pressure dressing.
She worked without panic.
Eight minutes later, the doctor arrived.
Leo survived.
Harper washed the blood from her hands.
Damian found her in the laundry room.
“Where did you learn that?”
“I've seen trauma before.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“My mother was sick.”
“That's not an answer either.”
Harper kept scrubbing.
Damian stepped closer.
“You aren't afraid of blood.”
“No.”
“Claudia?”
“No.”
“Me?”
Harper looked at him in the mirror.
“No.”
“Why?”
She shut off the water.
“Because fear is expensive.”
Damian frowned.
“Explain.”
“I don't have time for it.”
That answer stayed with him.
The next morning, Claudia returned.
And she brought a trap.
Her emerald-and-diamond choker was missing.
Every employee was lined against the foyer wall.
Then Claudia pointed at Harper.
“Search her.”
The guards dumped Harper's bag onto the marble.
Painkillers.
Wallet.
Keys.
Subway pass.
Then a velvet jewelry box.
The necklace spilled out.
Everyone gasped.
Claudia smiled.
“I told you she was a rat.”
Harper stared at the necklace.
She didn't panic.
Instead, she looked at the bottom of her bag.
“It's dry.”
Claudia frowned.
“What?”
“My bag was soaked this morning.”
Harper lifted the damp painkillers.
“The box is completely dry.”
Damian picked it up.
He examined the velvet.
Then the clasp.
“When did you last wear it?”
“Saturday.”
“You wore pearls Saturday.”
Claudia hesitated.
“Friday.”
“You haven't worn this in six months.”
Silence.
Damian's eyes hardened.
“This necklace is stored behind a biometric safe.”
Claudia swallowed.
“Maybe she—”
“Did she borrow your eye?”
Claudia went white.
Harper almost smiled.
Almost.
Damian dismissed the staff.
Later that night, he found Harper in the library.
“Why seventy thousand?”
She told him about her mother.
About the hospital.
About the lien on her house.
“I can pay it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because then I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing.”
“I know men like you.”
Damian laughed quietly.
“You don't know men like me.”
“I know enough.”
He stepped closer.
“You're going to learn.”
Harper held his gaze.
Damian lowered his voice.
“In this house, you only survive if you belong to me.”
Harper's heart beat once, hard.
She hated that he could make her nervous.
She hated even more that some part of her wanted to know what he meant.
Neither of them knew that someone else was watching them.
From the hallway.
Claudia.
And for the first time, she wasn't simply jealous.
She was afraid.
Because she had just realized Damian wasn't protecting Harper out of curiosity.
He was beginning to care.
May you like
And Claudia knew exactly what happened to women who became important to powerful men.
They became targets.
