Chapter 2 - The Crimson LedgerDante’s voice was lower than the industrial hum of the washing machines. It carried the chilling weight of a man who owned the streets, the courts, and the silence between them.
“He doesn’t let anyone touch that shoulder,” Dante said, taking a slow step forward. His dark eyes shifted from the bloody water pooling around my soaked boots to the heavy, scarred head of the pit bull resting against my ribs. “The last man who tried is currently eating through a straw in a private clinic.”
“Then he has good taste in people,” I shot back, my voice shaking despite my best efforts.
The adrenaline was finally fading, leaving behind the cold realization of where I was and who was holding the leash. Or, in this case, watching me sit waist-deep in soapy water with his most lethal weapon.
Dante stopped three feet away. He crouched down, ignoring the damp concrete, and reached out a large, calloused hand. I tensed, half-expecting Titan to erupt into violence. Instead, the massive dog merely let out a low rumble, leaning slightly heavier against my side.
Dante froze. His hand hovered an inch from Titan's ear.
“He’s deaf in his left ear,” I explained, my fingers still gently combing through the matted black fur of the dog's neck. “Just like me. He didn’t hear you come down the stairs. That’s why he reacts so violently when people approach from his blind side. Someone has been hurting him, Mr. Vescari. And it wasn't an accident.”
Dante looked up at me, his gaze sharp enough to draw blood. A slow, dangerous smile touched the corner of his mouth.
“You’re Rosie,” he said, stating it not as a question, but as a file he had already memorized. “The new night laundry girl. The one who got blackballed by the veterinary board in Dundalk because you wouldn't falsify medical records for a corrupt clinic owner.”
My breath caught. “How do you—?”
“I own the clinic, Rosie,” he interrupted smoothly. “I own the building it sits on, and the mortgage of the man who tried to ruin you. Nothing happens in Baltimore without my ledger knowing about it.”
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He stood up, towering over the industrial sink.
“Get out of the water,” Dante commanded softly. “Dry yourself off. Then bring Titan to my private study on the third floor. We’re going to stitch up more than just a dog tonight.”
