Chapter 6 - Dawn at the Docks
The pre-dawn chill over the Brooklyn waterfront bit through Naomi’s wool coat as she stepped off the night bus and walked the final three blocks toward her apartment building. The streetlights flickered against the damp pavement, casting long, wavering shadows across the brick warehouses.
She pulled her keys from her pocket, her mind still replaying the heavy silence of Room 9 and the cold, unyielding look in Silas Grayson’s eyes.
A sleek, matte-black sedan was parked idling by the curb a few feet from her front steps.
Naomi stopped dead in her tracks, her hand sliding into her coat pocket to grip a small canister of pepper spray. The back door of the sedan clicked open, and a man stepped out into the dim amber light of the streetlamp.
It wasn't Cole or Wade. It was a younger man in a sharp wool overcoat, holding a manila folder in one hand.
“Miss Brooks?” the man asked politely, keeping his hands visible and well away from his sides.
“If you’re here to hand me a corporate subpoena or an intimidation packet from Silas Grayson’s legal team, you can take it back to Manhattan,” Naomi said coldly, standing her ground on the sidewalk.
“Mr. Grayson didn't send a subpoena,” the man said, stepping forward and placing the manila folder on the clean hood of the sedan. He didn't push it toward her; he left it neutral. “He sent a file.”
“What kind of file?”
“The kind that explains why a self-made billionaire with a target on his back spends eleven years refusing medical care until a nurse from Brooklyn walks into his room and tells him he’s being foolish,” the man replied quietly. “He thought you might want to know who gave him those scars before you decide whether or not to fix them.”
Naomi stared at the manila folder. The wind whipped a strand of dark hair across her face, but she didn't move. Her journalistic and medical curiosity warred instantly with her instinct for self-preservation.
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“Who are you?” she asked.
“My name is Julian Vance,” the man answered with a faint nod. “I manage Grayson Harbor’s internal security. Mr. Grayson doesn't explain himself to anyone, Miss Brooks. But for reasons I am still trying to understand... he made an exception for you.”
