Chapter 5 - An Invitation To Danger
Three muffled gunshots echoed through the brick alleyway within ninety seconds of Dominic entering the building.
Nora pressed her hands over her ears, ducking low against the leather seats of the luxury sedan, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. Tears of sheer adrenaline stung her eyes. Chicago had always felt rough around the edges, but this was a war zone, and she was caught directly in the crosshairs.
Five agonizing minutes dragged by before the front glass door of the apartment complex shattered outward into the snowbank.
Frank emerged first, backward, weapon raised, covering the perimeter. Behind him walked Dominic Moretti. His coat was dusted with plaster dust and snow, his expression entirely devoid of emotion. Tucked securely under his left arm was a battered plastic cat carrier, inside of which an enormous, terrified ginger tabby cat was screeching at the top of its lungs.
Dominic reached the car, opened the door, and slid the carrier onto the floorboards before climbing in beside Nora. The faint, sharp tang of gunpowder drifted into the leather interior.
""Barnaby!"" Nora cried out, dropping to her knees to peer through the plastic grate. The cat rubbed its frantic face against the bars, unharmed. She looked up at Dominic, her eyes brimming with tears. ""Are you hurt?""
Dominic glanced down at his right knuckles, which were split and bleeding slightly. ""Not mine. They were ransacking your bedroom looking for any receipts or paperwork that might link the music box transaction to Tony's account. They wanted proof that my son was compromised.""
""Did you... did you kill them?"" Nora whispered, terrified of the answer.
""They are currently sleeping on your landlord's hallway carpet awaiting proper disposal,"" Dominic said without a trace of remorse. ""Your apartment is no longer safe to inhabit, Miss Bennett. By sunrise, Vincent will know his men failed. He will burn this building to the ground just to erase their mistakes.""
Nora sank back against the leather seat, the stark reality crushing her. Her apartment was gone. Her home, her memories, her simple life—all wiped out because a nine-year-old boy wanted his father to fall in love with the crossing guard.
""So what happens now?"" she asked, her voice hollow.
""Now, you come back to the estate,"" Dominic said, leaning back and signaling the driver to pull away from the curb. The heavy sedan surged forward into the swirling blizzard, leaving Lincoln Park and her old life behind in the rearview mirror. ""You stay under my protection until Vincent Valenti is removed from the board.""
""I can't just abandon my jobs,"" Nora insisted, shaking her head stubbornly. ""The kids at Franklin need someone at that intersection. Drivers run that red light constantly, Mr. Moretti. And Mrs. Higgins depends on me to open the bakery.""
Dominic turned his head toward her, a faint, sardonic smirk curling the corner of his lips for the first time that night. ""You are facing an armed cartel syndicate, Nora, and you're worried about Mrs. Higgins' cinnamon rolls.""
""Yes, I am!"" she shot back, her fiery spirit refusing to be stamped out by his intimidating aura. ""Because that is real life! Some of us don't have armies of men in three-piece suits to clean up our messes. We have rent, we have responsibilities, and we have people counting on us!""
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Dominic's smirk vanished, replaced by an expression of genuine, unvarnished intrigue. He had spent his adult life surrounded by sycophants who trembled at his glance or hardened criminals who spoke only in threats. Nora Bennett stood before him in a damp green dress, smelling like vanilla extract and snow, demanding accountability for a bag of flour.
""Then tomorrow,"" Dominic said quietly, ""my men will guard the bakery, and Frank will hold your stop sign at the crosswalk. But you will stay where I can see you.""
