Chapter 8 - Stepping Out of the Shadows
The rain outside had turned into a steady, gray sheet, blurring the sprawling lawns of the Costello estate into an indistinct smudge.
I sat at the edge of the long mahogany dining table, the heavy silence of the room pressing down on my chest. Elena sat across from me, sipping black coffee with mechanical precision, while Arthur stood by the tall arched window, staring out into the courtyard where his armed guards patrolled the perimeter.
“If my father wanted to give the money back,” I said, breaking the quiet, “why didn't he just leave the files in the study? Why stage a fake death? Why hide for five years?”
“Because he knew you’d never survive in this world if you were tied to a thief,” Arthur said without turning around. His voice was low, carrying an undercurrent of raw, suppressed fury. “He gave you to me as a maid not to punish you, Norah. He put you here because he knew the one place my enemies would never look for Thomas Hayes’s daughter was scrubbing the floors of the man who supposedly killed him.”
Julian stepped into the room, holding a encrypted tablet. “Boss, we traced the origin of the routing signal from the morning transfer. It wasn't an IP address from overseas or a burner phone in the city. The ping came from the old chapel on the estate grounds.”
Arthur turned away from the window instantly. “The chapel? It’s been boarded up for a decade.”
“Not anymore,” Julian said, sliding the tablet across the table toward Arthur. “The lock was picked from the inside. And there’s a heat signature inside the vestry.”
I stood up from the table before anyone else could move.
“Norah, no,” Arthur commanded, stepping into my path. “That chapel is where I keep my father’s old records. If Thomas is in there, he’s not looking to negotiate. He knows I know.”
“He’s my father,” I said, meeting Arthur’s gaze with a fierce, unwavering resolve that left no room for argument. For five years, I had believed I was an orphan drowning in debt, defined by a tragedy I had no control over. Every choice I had made—every step I took into this dark, terrifying world—had been shaped by a lie. “You spent ten years wondering if he betrayed you. I spent ten years wondering if he ever cared. I’m going into that chapel.”
Arthur stared at me for a long, agonizing second. Then, slowly, the harsh lines of the mafia boss softened into something older, heavier, and entirely human.
May you like
He didn't try to stop me. Instead, he unclipped a heavy steel key ring from his belt, pulled off a single brass key, and held it out to me.
“If he’s in there,” Arthur whispered, his voice thick with unexpressed warning, “don't let him talk you into walking away. Some debts can’t be paid back with money.”
