Chapter 2
Ten minutes later, the heavy oak door of my master suite swung open, and Luke stepped inside, buttoning up a tactical vest over his t-shirt with a Beretta tucked into his waistband. His eyes swept the room, instantly scanning for threats before landing on me parked beside the bed, watching the sleeping woman.
Luke stared, dumbfounded. “Danny? What the hell is going on? Did she try something?”
“She passed out from exhaustion and a raging fever,” I said flatly, gesturing toward the bed. “Call Dr. Vance. Have him down here in twenty minutes, or I’ll drag him out of his bed myself.”
Luke crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “She’s just a night cleaner, Danny. If she’s sick, we pay out her week, call an ambulance to the gates, and let her deal with it at County General. Bringing a civilian into your private quarters crosses a line you established yourself.”
“She stays,” I cut him off, my voice dropping an octave into that cold, absolute register that made even my top enforcers swallow hard. “And if anyone from the lower staff whispers a word about this to anyone outside these walls, you handle it. Understand?”
May you like
Luke looked at me, searching my face for the usual cynical detachment. Finding none, a slow, knowing smirk touched the corner of his mouth. “Got it. I’ll make the call. But Vance is going to charge triple for a 3 AM house call.”
“Charge it to my personal account,” I snapped, wheeling back toward the window as the first pale streaks of dawn began to bleed through the Chicago skyline.
