Chapter 4 - The Investigation Begins
The heavy oak door of Dominic’s private study clicked shut, sealing us inside a room that smelled of old leather, fine bourbon, and impending doom. My knees were shaking so violently I had to grip the back of a velvet armchair to stay upright. Sophie was fast asleep on a leather sofa in the corner, clutching Mr. Buttons to her chest, completely oblivious to the fact that her mother was standing in the inner sanctum of a man who could make people vanish without a trace.
Dominic sat behind a massive mahogany desk, swirling a finger around the rim of an empty crystal glass. He hadn't said a word since we entered the room. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, punctuated only by the distant ticking of a grandfather clock.
"Claire Bennett," he finally spoke, his voice a low, gravelly baritone that vibrated through the quiet room. He didn't look at me; instead, he was sliding a single sheet of paper across the desk. "Born on the South Side. Graduated top of her high school class before her father’s plumbing business went under. Worked three jobs while putting herself through community college for night classes in accounting. Cleaned houses for elite Chicago families for three years before landing an agency placement at my estate six weeks ago."
My blood ran cold. I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to steady itself. "You ran a background check on a cleaning lady?"
Dominic finally lifted his head, his dark, piercing eyes locking onto mine with the precision of a sniper scope. "In my world, Ms. Bennett, everyone gets vetted. But your file... your file had interesting omissions." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "It doesn't mention a father for your daughter. In fact, public records show Sophie was born in a private clinic in Evanston, with all medical expenses mysteriously paid in full by an anonymous trust fund that was liquidated the exact same day."
My breath hitched. The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "That... that’s none of your business. It was a private matter from my past."
"Nothing in Chicago is a private matter if it intersects with my properties," Dominic retorted coldly, standing up from his chair. He walked slowly around the desk, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating off his imposing frame. The scent of pine and heavy cologne enveloped me. "Tell me, Claire... why did your daughter walk up to a monster like me and say she needed a papa hug?"
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"She’s three!" I snapped, a sudden surge of maternal adrenaline overriding my terror. "She doesn't know what a monster is! She just saw a tall man in a suit and wanted attention because I’ve been working twenty hours a day to keep us from freezing to death in a shithole apartment! If you're going to fire me, fire me, but leave my daughter out of your paranoia!"
Dominic didn't yell. He didn't threaten me. He simply stared down at me, his gaze softening at the edges for a fraction of a second before hardening again. "You think I'm going to fire you?" he whispered softly, stepping dangerously close. "No, Claire. We are just getting started."
