Chapter 2 - The Cage of Silk and Steel
“You can stand up now, Miss Vasquez,” Lorenzo said, handing the blue folder to Rocco.
Nina tried to push herself up, but her legs were numb from the cold marble and the sudden crash of adrenaline. She wobbled instantly.
Before her knees could hit the floor again, a strong, warm hand closed around her elbow, stabilizing her effortlessly. She looked up in surprise. Lorenzo was holding her, his grip firm, precise, and surprisingly gentle.
Ghost instantly stood up beside her, his broad head pressed firmly against her hip, positioning himself between her and Lorenzo.
“Thank you,” Nina muttered, pulling her arm back slightly.
“Rocco, take her catering uniform to the laundry, bring her a clean sweater from the guest suite, and order dinner from the kitchen downstairs,” Lorenzo instructed.
“No,” Nina said immediately. “No, thank you. I’m leaving. I’m taking my dog and I’m going home.”
Lorenzo looked at her as if she had just suggested stepping off the sixty-fourth-floor balcony into thin air.
“You are not taking that dog anywhere tonight, Miss Vasquez,” Lorenzo said calmly.
“He is my dog!” Nina yelled, her fear completely overridden by six years of backed-up grief. “You just saw the scanner! My name is on the chip! You bought stolen property!”
“I bought an attack animal trained to respond to lethal commands,” Lorenzo corrected her, stepping closer until she had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. “An animal that has spent five years patrolling my private compounds, who knows the faces of eighty high-ranking syndicate members, and who possesses enough bite pressure to crush a human femur in four seconds.”
He pointed a long, manicured finger toward the floor.
“If you walk out those front doors with that dog right now,” Lorenzo continued, his voice dropping to a low whisper, “my enemies will see you. They will realize my primary security asset has been compromised by a woman in a catering apron. They will follow you to your apartment in Queens. They will cut your throat while you sleep just to take him from you, or kill him so I don't have him.”
Nina felt the room tilt. The reality of the situation—the dark, suffocating reality of who Lorenzo Castellano was— hit her like a bucket of ice water.
“He’s... he’s in danger?” she asked, her voice faltering.
“You are in danger,” Lorenzo said. “Because the moment you hummed those six notes, you pulled yourself into a war that has been quietly raging across three continents for eighteen months.”
He turned toward the kitchen hallway. “Rocco, show her to the east guest suite. She stays here tonight. For her protection, and for the dog’s.”
“I can’t stay here!” Nina protested, taking a step back, but Ghost followed her every move, his tail giving a tiny, hesitant wag every time she looked at him. “I have a job! I have a landlord! My roommate will call the police if I don't come home!”
“Your supervisor, Marjorie, has already been compensated twenty thousand dollars to report to your catering agency that you suffered a severe panic attack and resigned,” Lorenzo said smoothly, walking toward his desk. “Your rent for the next five years was wired to your landlord’s bank account three minutes ago. And your roommate has just received a message from your phone stating that you are doing an emergency overnight catering event for a high-profile client.”
Nina stood frozen, her mouth slightly open. “You... you can’t just rewrite my life in five minutes!”
“I didn't rewrite your life, Miss Vasquez,” Lorenzo said, opening his laptop without looking up. “I bought you time to stay alive. Now go to the guest room, wash the red pepper sauce off your knees, and feed your dog. He hasn't eaten from a bowl without a tactical command in five years.”
Nina looked down at Ghost. The huge Rottweiler was staring up at her, his dark brown eyes filled with an unspoken, desperate plea. He nudged her wrist with his wet nose, letting out a soft, puffing sigh.
Nina swallowed hard. She looked back at Lorenzo, whose face was illuminated by the blue light of his computer screen, perfectly composed, terrifyingly efficient, and totally unreadable.
“What happens tomorrow?” Nina asked.
May you like
Lorenzo stopped typing. He looked up, his amber eyes reflecting the soft glow of the desk lamp.
“Tomorrow,” Lorenzo said, “we find out who sold your dog to my family. And then we decide if you ever get to leave this building again.”
