Chapter 4 - Whispers in the Dark
Night fell over Lake Forest like a heavy black velvet cloak. The storm outside had escalated, driving rain sideways against the estate's reinforced glass windows.
Grace lay awake in her guest suite, unable to sleep. Her shoulder throbbing rhythmically, but it was the nervous energy humming through her veins that kept her restless. She got out of bed, slipping into a soft silk robe her staff had left in the wardrobe, and quietly stepped out into the long, carpeted corridor.
The house was dark, illuminated only by floor-level nightlights.
As she walked toward the grand staircase, intending to find the kitchen for a glass of water, she heard voices echoing from the lower level—hushed, sharp, and laced with lethal tension.
Grace crept closer to the mezzanine railing, keeping to the shadows.
Down in the main foyer, Dominic was standing near the front entrance. He was fully dressed in a dark suit once again, two heavy handguns holstered beneath his armpits. Standing before him were four men—his top lieutenants, including Marcus, who was holding a tablet displaying security feeds and street maps.
"We located the Moretti safehouse in South Cicero," Marcus was saying, his voice cold. "Julian Moretti is there himself. He's bringing in thirty men from Detroit by tomorrow morning. If we don't hit them tonight, boss, they'll launch a full offensive on this estate by dawn."
Dominic’s face was carved of granite. "Is the perimeter here fully secured?"
"We have twenty men on the grounds, heavy optics, and infrared," Marcus replied. "No one gets within three miles of this house without us knowing."
"Good," Dominic said, pulling his gloves on, his knuckles cracking in the quiet space. "If a single bullet comes near my son again, I will burn Cicero to the ground. Leave no one standing in that safehouse."
"And the girl?" another lieutenant asked, gesturing vaguely toward the upper floor where Grace stood. "What do we do with her after Moretti is dead? She knows too much about the estate layout now, boss. She’s seen your face, seen the kid—"
Dominic moved so fast it was a blur.
In a fraction of a second, he had the lieutenant pinned by his throat against the marble wall, his right hand gripping the man's neck with terrifying force.
"Listen to me very carefully," Dominic growled, his voice a lethal, vibrating hiss. "Grace Miller saved my son's life when my own security failed. She bleeds in this house because she protected my blood. If any of you so much as look at her with disrespect, I will personally skin you alive. Do you understand me?"
The lieutenant choked out a desperate node. "Understood... boss."
Dominic released him, letting the man drop to his knees, coughing.
"Lock the gates," Dominic commanded, turning toward the door. "I’ll be back before sunrise."
Grace pulled back into the shadows, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She watched Dominic walk out into the pouring rain, his heavy coat billowing behind him like the wings of a dark angel.
She realized then the terrifying dual nature of the man. To the world, he was a monster—a ruthless killer who ruled Chicago with an iron fist. But to the boy sleeping down the hall, and now, strangely, to her, he was a protective wall, standing between them and total annihilation.
She turned to walk back to her room, only to find Noah standing at the end of the corridor.
He was holding a small flashlight, his eyes wide in the dim light. He looked at the empty foyer below, then looked up at Grace.
He raised his hands, signing softly in the dark: Where is Dad?
Grace walked over to him, kneeling down despite the pain in her shoulder. She took his hands gently in hers, squeezing them once.
He is working, Grace signed back, forcing a reassuring smile onto her face. He is fighting the monsters so you can sleep.
Noah looked at her for a long moment, then reached out, pressing his palm flat against Grace's chest, right over her heart. He felt its steady, rapid beat.
You stay? Noah signed, his small face filled with a silent, desperate plea.
May you like
Grace looked at the little boy who had stolen her heart in a rain-slicked diner four nights ago, and then thought of the dangerous man who had just threatened to kill anyone who harmed her.
I stay, Grace signed back. I’m not going anywhere.
