Chapter 3 - The Coldest Coffee In Chicago
The tiny red light pulsed in the dim study like a miniature heartbeat of pure malice.
Nora dropped into the nearest armchair, all the strength abandoning her limbs. ""A tracking device. It was inside my grandmother’s box the whole time?""
""Not while it was in your apartment,"" Dominic said, his jaw tightening into a razor-sharp angle. He used the tip of the blade to gently pry the device loose, dropping it into an empty crystal glass on his desk. ""They planted it after they stole it. They anticipated Tony searching for your carousel. Vincent knows Tony has unrestricted access to several secondary family cards for school supplies and personal expenses.""
""Tony said he searched for it because I was crying,"" Nora murmured, burying her face in her hands. The exhaustion of two jobs, months of scrimping to pay rising rent, and the terror of having her private space violated crashed down on her all at once. ""He's just a child. He thought he was being a hero.""
""He was being a child,"" Dominic replied softly. For a man who controlled half the shipping lanes in the Midwest through ruthless calculation, the softness that briefly entered his voice when speaking of his son was utterly disarming. ""Vincent Valenti expected this box to end up inside my house, right beside my personal terminal or in Tony's bedroom. He wanted an audio tap and a beacon inside my private residence before Christmas Eve.""
""And instead, I walked it straight through your front door,"" Nora said, laughing bitterly without an ounce of mirth. ""I brought the danger right to your family.""
""You did the opposite,"" Dominic said, stepping closer. He looked down at her, his dark eyes analyzing every line of worry on her round, lovely face, taking in the faint sprinkle of freckles across her nose and the sheer resilience radiating from her frame. ""You came here to confront me directly. You had the courage to march into a lion's den because someone stole your grandmother's memory. If you hadn't come here tonight, my technicians wouldn't have swept this package until tomorrow morning. By then, Valenti's listening post would have mapped my security frequencies.""
Dominic turned toward Frank. ""Notify Marcus and the outer perimeter. We are officially on lockdown. I want every vehicle within four blocks of this property run through the database immediately.""
""Right away, boss,"" Frank said, disappearing through the heavy oak doors with military precision.
The study fell remarkably quiet again, save for the rhythmic snapping of the fireplace logs. Dominic walked over to a sideboard, poured two cups of black coffee from a silver carafe, and walked over to hand one to Nora.
""Drink it,"" he commanded gently. ""You're shivering.""
Nora wrapped both hands around the warm porcelain cup, inhaling the bitter aroma. Her hands were still trembling, the coffee rippling against the porcelain rim. ""I should never have let Tony get attached to me. I just... he always looked so lonely standing on that corner waiting for his driver. The other kids have parents walking them, holding their hands, arguing over lunchboxes. Tony always stood by himself like a tiny soldier.""
Dominic sat down in the matching armchair across from her, his long legs stretching out before the hearth. ""I took this life over when my brother was killed twelve years ago. I thought I could build a fortress high enough to keep the rot away from my family. But fortresses are cold, Nora. Children don't thrive inside stone walls.""
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""Why did he write 'Love, Dad' on the card?"" Nora asked, looking directly into Dominic's guarded gaze.
Dominic looked toward the fire, the orange flames casting flickering shadows across his rugged profile. ""Because he hears the men call me ruthless. He sees people bow their heads when I walk into a room. Tony wanted you to believe that the man his father is... could also be someone who cares about broken music boxes.""
