Chapter 3 - The Ghost in Apartment 4B
The mahogany floors of the master suite seemed to tilt beneath my shoes.
“My apartment?” I repeated, the words tasting like copper. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve lived there for four years. There’s nothing in my apartment except a battered sofa, a pile of medical journals, and an empty refrigerator.”
“People who keep secrets rarely keep them in obvious places,” Dominic said, swinging his legs slowly over the side of the mattress.
“Boss, you shouldn't be moving—” Leo started, stepping forward to intervene.
Dominic raised a single, scarred hand, cutting Leo off instantly. The sheer force of his will was enough to stop the burly enforcer dead in his tracks. Dominic stood up, wearing only a pair of dark flannel trousers, his bandaged right shoulder strapped tightly across his chest with medical webbing. He swayed for a fraction of a second, the sudden drop in blood pressure hitting him, but he caught himself against the bedpost with his left hand, breathing through his teeth.
He looked at me with an intensity that made it difficult to draw a full breath.
“You think you were chosen at random by the temp agency yesterday, Clara?” Dominic asked, his voice low and dangerous. “You think six nurses broke down or ran away because they couldn't handle stitches? They were vetted by Vance’s people. Every single one of them had financial ties to firms connected to Vance Pharmaceuticals.”
The room seemed to grow colder. The pieces began clicking together in my head with terrifying speed.
“They weren't real private nurses,” I whispered.
“Spies, informants, or opportunists looking to finish what the bullet missed,” Dominic said, taking a slow, deliberate step toward me. “You were the seventh call on the agency’s list. The only reason your name came up is because your background is completely clean. No debt to syndicates, no corporate sponsors, no political affiliations. Just an exhausted ER nurse about to be thrown out on the street.”
“Which made me the perfect patsy,” I said, my anger flaring hot enough to burn away the fear. “If you died on this bed, the police would arrest me for medical negligence, Vance’s lawyers would bury me, and nobody would ever look twice at apartment 4B.”
Dominic stopped standing right in front of me. Up close, he was towering, his presence overwhelming, smelling of antiseptic and raw power. Yet he didn't look down at me with contempt; there was a strange, grim respect in his eyes.
“If I wanted you framed, Leo wouldn't have paid off your landlord this morning,” Dominic said softly. “You saved my life with a pair of forceps and bare hands while a dozen armed men stood outside paralyzed. I don't kill people who keep me breathing.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want to go to your apartment,” Dominic said. “Right now. Before Vance’s cleanup crew realizes Sarah Chen left a backup drop somewhere inside those four walls.”
Leo stepped forward, his face pale with alarm. “Boss, that’s suicide. Vance’s people have the building under surveillance. If you walk out of this estate—”
May you like
“I’m not walking out through the front gates, Leo,” Dominic interrupted, turning his cold gaze to his chief of security. “We’re taking the service elevator down to the subterranean garage. And Clara is riding in the passenger seat.”
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