Chapter 2 - The Golden Cage
Norah expected a bullet or a dark alley.
Instead, she was escorted out of the nightclub by two men who treated her with unnerving, quiet respect.
They drove her through the sleeping city in a black armored town car with tinted glass.
Norah sat frozen in the back seat. Her hands remained clutched around her canvas laptop bag.
The vehicle stopped outside a gated estate nestled in the high hills overlooking the harbor.
The wrought iron gates parted smoothly, allowing the car to glide down a cobblestone driveway bordered by tall cypress trees.
Dominic’s house was a fortress of glass, black steel, and dark granite.
"Welcome to your new office, Ms. Miller," Dominic’s chief lieutenant, Viktor, said as he opened her car door.
Viktor was a broad man with gray hair, a broken nose, and a surprisingly polite demeanor.
"New office?" Norah’s voice sounded thin in the cold night air. "I didn't apply for a job."
"Mr. Gallow doesn't recruit through standard channels," Viktor replied softly, gesturing toward the entrance.
Inside, the estate was warm, smelling of cedarwood, lavender, and fresh linen.
A woman in her fifties named Maria led Norah up a grand floating staircase to a massive guest suite on the third floor.
The room featured a king sized bed, floor to ceiling windows facing the misty ocean, and a walk in closet stocked with high end clothes in Norah's exact size.
On the mahogany writing desk lay a sleek silver laptop and a fresh cup of chamomile tea.
"You are free to move around the third floor," Maria explained gently. "The kitchen is open if you require food. But do not attempt to leave the grounds."
Norah stood in the center of the plush rug after Maria left.
She walked to the window.
Below, three armed guards patrolled the perimeter with trained Dobermans.
She was not a prisoner in a dungeon.
She was a bird inside a golden cage.
At 8:00 a.m., a quiet knock came at her door.
Dominic stepped inside.
He had changed into a crisp white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, his sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms scarred near the wrists.
He carried a leather binder under his arm.
"Did you sleep?" he asked, taking a seat in the armchair near the window.
"No," Norah said honestly, standing beside her desk. "People being held hostage usually don't sleep well."
Dominic placed the binder on the desk. "You aren't a hostage, Norah. You're an employee."
"I have a job at Miller & Hayes Accounting."
"You used to," Dominic corrected smoothly, pulling a fountain pen from his pocket. "Your resignation was submitted three hours ago. Your back debt from your mother's medical bills has been settled in full. Your firm was paid three times your annual salary to release you from your contract."
Norah’s breath hitched. "You bought my life?"
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"I secured an asset," Dominic said, his dark eyes fixing on hers. "Frank wasn't the only one stealing. Someone inside my inner circle is leaking financial records to the federal task force. I need an auditor who has no loyalty to my men, no fear of my name, and no ties to the outside world."
He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "You have no family, no friends, no lovers. You are completely clean, Norah. And you're going to clean my books."
