Chapter 2 - THE HOUSE NO ONE ENTEREDClaire woke beneath white sheets and immediately searched for the chains.
Her hands flew toward her wrists.
Nothing.
No steel.
No concrete.
No warehouse.
Only bandages.
She stared around the unfamiliar bedroom.
Morning sunlight filtered through tall windows overlooking gardens surrounded by stone walls. A fireplace stood against the opposite wall. Fresh clothes rested neatly across an armchair beside a glass of water.
For one terrifying second, Claire wondered whether Caldwell had moved her somewhere else.
Then she saw Dominic Ashford.
He was sitting beside the window.
Still wearing black.
Still impossible to mistake.
He held a cup of coffee and was reading something on a tablet.
Claire jerked upright.
Pain ripped across her ribs.
“Easy.”
Dominic immediately set the tablet aside.
“Where am I?”
“My house.”
Her fear returned instantly.
Dominic noticed.
“You have your own room. The door isn’t locked.”
“Why am I here?”
“Because a hospital would require paperwork, and Caldwell has people inside two hospitals.”
Claire stared at him.
“How do you know?”
“I know where Caldwell has people.”
Dominic crossed toward the bedside table and picked up the water.
Claire pulled away.
He stopped.
Then placed the glass where she could reach it without touching him.
“A doctor examined you last night. Two cracked ribs. Severe dehydration. Your shoulder was partially dislocated. No internal bleeding.”
Claire looked toward her arms.
The worst bruises had been cleaned and treated.
“Who changed my clothes?”
“A female physician and my housekeeper.”
Claire visibly relaxed.
Dominic returned to the window.
“You slept fourteen hours.”
“How long was I in that warehouse?”
“Three days.”
Claire closed her eyes.
It had felt longer.
“What day is it?”
“Thursday.”
Claire stared at nothing.
Daniel had died eight days earlier.
She could still see her brother collapsing beside the stairwell outside his apartment.
Could still hear Caldwell’s man asking where the drive was.
Could still smell Daniel’s blood.
Dominic watched her face change.
“Your brother,” he said quietly. “Daniel Monroe.”
Claire looked up sharply.
“You knew him?”
“No.”
“Then how—”
“I spent the night finding out.”
Claire’s expression hardened.
“You investigated me.”
“Yes.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“I rarely lie when the truth works better.”
That almost sounded like humor.
Claire did not smile.
Dominic handed her the tablet.
A photograph showed Daniel Monroe outside a financial services building.
Below it were business records.
“Your brother worked as a forensic accountant.”
“He worked for Caldwell Holdings.”
“For four years.”
“He thought Caldwell was just another wealthy developer.”
“He wasn’t.”
Claire looked at Dominic.
“You say that like you’re different.”
Dominic leaned against the windowsill.
“I am different.”
“Because you admit you’re dangerous?”
“Because I don’t pretend dangerous men become harmless because they own legitimate companies.”
Claire studied him.
“You expect me to trust you?”
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
“Trust is expensive,” Dominic continued. “You should stop giving it away.”
Claire looked down.
“I trusted Daniel.”
“That wasn’t a mistake.”
“You didn’t know him.”
“No. But he died trying to protect you.”
The words struck hard.
Claire turned her face away.
Dominic gave her several seconds.
Then he asked, “What did Daniel find?”
Claire said nothing.
“Caldwell tortured you for information.”
Still nothing.
“He used my name to frighten you.”
Claire looked back.
“And it worked.”
Dominic accepted the insult without reaction.
“You believed I wanted whatever Daniel found.”
“Caldwell said you were partners.”
“We aren’t.”
“He said the Ashford organization helped move money for him.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
That was new.
“He showed me documents.”
“What documents?”
“Bank transfers. Shell companies. Shipping invoices.”
“Did you see originals?”
“Copies.”
Dominic crossed his arms.
“Caldwell manufactured evidence to connect me to whatever Daniel uncovered.”
“Maybe.”
“You still think it could be real.”
“I don’t know you.”
Dominic nodded once.
Reasonable.
Claire looked around the luxurious room.
“What happens if I tell you everything?”
“I investigate it.”
“And if it hurts your business?”
“I deal with it.”
“What if Daniel discovered your people were involved?”
“Then I deal with them too.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means loyalty stops where betrayal begins.”
The bedroom door opened.
Claire jumped.
A woman in her early sixties entered carrying breakfast.
Her gray hair was pinned elegantly behind her head.
“I knocked,” she said.
Claire clearly had not heard.
Dominic stepped aside.
“This is Teresa.”
Teresa placed the tray near Claire.
“Tea, toast, eggs. The doctor said nothing too heavy.”
“Thank you.”
Teresa smiled gently.
“My room is downstairs if you need anything.”
She looked at Dominic.
“Anything at all.”
Dominic raised one eyebrow.
Teresa left.
Claire almost smiled.
“She doesn’t seem afraid of you.”
“She changed my diapers.”
Claire stared.
Dominic’s mouth moved slightly.
It was the closest thing to a smile.
For one moment, he became human.
Then Marco appeared at the open doorway.
“Boss.”
Dominic noticed the seriousness in his expression.
“What?”
“We found the apartment.”
Claire stiffened.
“What apartment?”
Marco looked toward her.
Dominic answered.
“Daniel kept a second apartment under another name.”
Claire stared.
“No.”
“We found lease payments going back eleven months.”
“Where?”
“North Bell district.”
Claire pushed back the blanket.
“I’m going.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I’m going.”
Dominic moved toward her.
Claire raised one hand.
“Don’t tell me what I can do.”
Dominic stopped.
The room went silent.
Marco looked carefully at the floor.
Very few people spoke to Dominic Ashford like that.
Claire’s voice shook, but she continued.
“My brother died because of whatever he put there. Caldwell kept me chained for three days because he believed I knew where it was. I am not sitting in this mansion while strangers search Daniel’s things.”
Dominic looked at her for a long moment.
Then he turned toward Marco.
“Bring the car around.”
Claire blinked.
“That’s it?”
“You expected an argument?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t waste time on arguments I’m going to lose.”
Forty minutes later, Claire stood inside Daniel’s secret apartment.
It contained almost nothing.
One table.
One chair.
One laptop.
A bookshelf.
And photographs.
Hundreds of photographs covered one wall.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police officials.
Shipping executives.
Caldwell.
Dominic.
Claire stopped.
A photograph of Dominic entering the Harbor Grand Hotel had been pinned at the center.
Red lines connected names and companies around him.
Claire slowly turned.
“You said you weren’t connected.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why was Daniel investigating you?”
Dominic approached the wall.
His gaze moved rapidly across the documents.
“Because he discovered someone wanted him to think I was.”
Marco opened the laptop.
“Password protected.”
Claire stared at the photograph.
Then she noticed something beneath it.
A handwritten note.
She pulled it free.
Three words.
ASK CLAIRE ABOUT MOM.
Claire’s heart stopped.
Dominic noticed.
“What?”
Claire slowly lowered the paper.
“My mother died when I was sixteen.”
“So?”
Claire’s eyes filled with confusion.
“She died in a house fire.”
Dominic said nothing.
Claire looked toward the wall again.
There, almost hidden among the photographs, was a newspaper clipping from seventeen years earlier.
MONROE FAMILY TRAGEDY CLAIMS ONE.
Below the headline, Daniel had written a single sentence.
FIRE WASN’T AN ACCIDENT.
Claire stepped backward.
“No.”
Dominic took the clipping.
The article listed the investigating detective.
Samuel Caldwell.
Dominic’s expression darkened.
Vincent Caldwell’s father.
Claire covered her mouth.
“My brother knew.”
Marco suddenly looked up from the laptop.
“Boss.”
He had bypassed the first layer of encryption.
A message appeared on the screen.
It had been scheduled by Daniel before his death.
IF YOU ARE READING THIS, VINCENT FOUND ME.
Dominic stepped closer.
Another line appeared.
CLAIRE IS THE KEY.
And beneath it:
BUT SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT SHE REMEMBERS.
Claire stared at the screen.
“What does that mean?”
Before anyone could answer, glass exploded across the room.
Dominic lunged.
“DOWN!”
He grabbed Claire and pulled her behind the desk.
A bullet tore through the wall exactly where her head had been.
Marco drew his weapon.
Two more shots shattered the windows.
Dominic covered Claire with his body.
Outside, tires screamed.
Marco reached the shattered window.
“Shooter’s moving!”
Dominic didn’t chase.
He remained over Claire until silence returned.
Claire’s hands were gripping his jacket.
Her face had gone white.
“They found us.”
Dominic looked at the bullet buried in the wall.
“No.”
Claire stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
Dominic picked up the laptop.
“They didn’t find us.”
His eyes went to Daniel’s message.
“They were waiting for someone to find this apartment.”
And for the first time, Dominic understood something important.
May you like
Daniel Monroe had not merely uncovered Vincent Caldwell’s secrets.
He had built a trap.
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