Chapter 2 - The Ghost of the South SideDominic didn't answer immediately. He studied her face, searching for a micro-expression, a bead of sweat, a twitch of panic. There was nothing. Just a cool, weary intelligence that reminded him chillingly of his own reflections in the mirror.
"People play long games, Miss Miller," Dominic said softly, his hand drifting toward the silver pen resting on his blotter. "And my uncle is notoriously patient."
"Then you should check the logs for that Chicago building," Grace replied, her voice dropping all pretense of deference. "I was twenty-eight. My mother was dying of kidney failure at St. Jude’s down the block. I took three jobs at once. That building happened to house a shell company that processed medical equipment import-export. I cleaned their floors, filed their shipping manifests, and went home. I never met Victor Vale. I didn't even know who owned the building until your security team just threatened me with it."
She took a half-step closer, invading his space just as deliberately as he had invaded hers.
"If your security protocols are so brilliant, Mr. Vale, maybe you should have noticed that the reason I quit that job wasn't because of corporate espionage. It was because the floor manager tried to withhold my final paycheck to pay off his own gambling debts, and I broke his nose with a ledger binder."
Dominic stared at her. A sudden, unexpected bark of a laugh escaped his throat—short, sharp, and humorless, but genuine.
"A ledger binder?"
"Hard cover, leather-bound, three hundred pages," Grace said dryly. "Very effective."
Dominic turned away, walking back toward his desk. He picked up a thick manila folder and tossed it onto the center of the desk. It landed with a heavy slap.
"You're staying," Dominic said.
Grace raised an eyebrow. "Is that an order or a job security review?"
"It's both," Dominic snapped, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. "You're going to keep cleaning the east wing. You’re going to keep making his tea. And you are going to keep writing those notes. Because for the first time in seven years, my brother is looking at something other than a security monitor or a medical chart. But hear me clearly, Grace: if you cross a single line, if you try to exploit his vulnerability or pass a single piece of information outside these walls, I won't just fire you. I will erase you."
Grace looked down at the manila folder, then back up at Dominic.
"You worry too much about enemies outside, Mr. Vale," she said quietly, turning toward the door. "Sometimes the real danger is the guy who spends all night watching everyone else through a screen because he’s too terrified to walk into the room."
May you like
The door clicked shut behind her.
Dominic stood frozen in the center of the dark office, his heart hammering against his ribs in a rhythm he hadn't felt in years.
