Chapter 1 - THREE SECONDS
Evelyn Reed had exactly three seconds to decide whether a dangerous man deserved to live.
Her hands were at Dominic Calder’s throat when she saw the gun.
Not in the room.
In the reflection.
Four floors below, beyond the tall windows of Dominic’s Gold Coast mansion, his black SUV waited in the private courtyard beneath a cold Chicago morning. His driver, Warren Beck, stood beside the rear door.
Warren had driven Dominic for seven years.
He had driven Dominic’s mother to the hospital.
He had picked up Dominic’s nieces from school.
He was the kind of man nobody searched anymore.
And in the dark reflection of the SUV’s window, Evelyn watched Warren slide a magazine into a handgun, pull the slide back, and hide the weapon inside the right pocket of his overcoat.
Not in the holster beneath his jacket.
In his pocket.
Where his hand could reach it the instant Dominic stepped close enough.
Evelyn’s fingers stopped on the silk tie.
Dominic noticed.
“Problem?”
His voice was quiet.
That made it worse.
At thirty-eight, Dominic Calder had built the kind of reputation that caused conversations to die when he entered restaurants. Officially, Calder Freight and Development owned warehouses, trucking companies, parking structures, restaurants, and half a dozen valuable pieces of commercial real estate.
Unofficially, people in certain Chicago neighborhoods lowered their voices when they said his name.
Evelyn had worked in his house for eleven months.
She polished his floors.
Changed his sheets.
Removed cigar ash from crystal trays after midnight meetings she pretended not to hear.
She had learned that invisibility was the safest uniform a maid could wear.
Until now.
Dominic looked at her through the mirror.
“You forgot how to tie a Windsor?”
“No.”
“Then finish.”
She forced her hands to move.
Wide end over narrow.
Through the loop.
Around.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Her younger sister’s face flashed through her mind.
Molly needed medication that cost more each month than Evelyn’s rent.
This job included health insurance.
This job was the thin line between Molly getting treatment and Evelyn choosing which bill not to pay.
She could stay silent.
Dominic would walk downstairs.
Warren would open the door.
Whatever happened after that would have nothing to do with her.
Except it would.
Because she had seen.
Evelyn tightened the knot.
Then she leaned closer as if smoothing Dominic’s collar.
“Don’t look back,” she whispered.
Dominic went completely still.
Evelyn kept her eyes on his tie.
“Your driver has a gun.”
Nothing changed in his expression.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Not surprise.
Only his eyes sharpened in the mirror.
“Where?”
“Right coat pocket.”
“You’re sure?”
“I watched him load it.”
Dominic’s gaze remained on her reflection.
“Did he see you?”
“No.”
“How long ago?”
“Maybe twenty seconds.”
Dominic reached up and caught her wrist.
His grip was firm but not painful.
For the first time in eleven months, he looked directly at her as though he had just discovered she had a face.
“What’s your name?”
The question stunned her more than the grip.
“Evelyn.”
“How long have you worked in my house, Evelyn?”
“Eleven months.”
“And you think Warren Beck intends to shoot me?”
“I think a man who normally carries a holstered weapon just loaded another one and put it where he could reach it before you reached the car.”
A beat passed.
“You notice a lot for someone paid not to.”
“My father taught me to watch hands.”
“What did your father do?”
“Night security at a hospital.”
Dominic released her.
“Go downstairs.”
Her stomach dropped.
“To the courtyard?”
“No. Laundry room. Lock the door.”
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