Chapter 1 - The Broken Seal
Dominic carried the girl toward the private elevator at the back of the establishment. Her head rested heavily against his collarbone, each shallow breath shuddering through her frame. Her skin felt burning hot against his fingers, yet her limbs trembled violently from shock. Across the polished floor, crisp banknotes remained scattered under the dim amber sconces, completely forgotten. Viktor stepped in behind them, his towering frame blocking the curious gazes of patrons and servers alike. The heavy brass gates of the private elevator closed with a dull, hollow click.
"Sir," Viktor said, his voice a low rumble. "The streets outside are quiet, but there was an unregistered black sedan circling the block two minutes before she entered."
Dominic did not look at his lieutenant. His eyes remained locked on the dark, blooming bruises marring the woman’s neck. They were finger marks, brutal and jagged, accompanied by thin lacerations that suggested cheap silver rings. "Summon Dr. Evans. Tell him to use the back stairs of the penthouse. If a single word leaves this building, cut the tongue from whoever speaks it."
"Understood," Viktor replied.
The elevator climbed silently toward the top floor. Dominic shifted her weight, feeling the unnatural sharpness of her collarbones beneath the torn knit sweater. Whoever she was, Dean had not simply sent a messenger; he had sent a casualty. Dean was a cautious smuggler who operated along the docks, a man who never dealt in violence if money could resolve the issue. For Dean to involve a terrified woman carrying torn cash meant every border in the city had collapsed.
The doors parted into the subdued mahogany and glass interior of the penthouse. Dominic laid her gently onto the expansive leather sofa. Her eyes fluttered open, milky and unfocused.
"Dean..." she whispered, her lips cracked and bleeding. "The warehouse... they didn't want the money, Dominic..."
Dominic knelt beside her, his tailored vest pulling tight as he leaned close. "Who took the warehouse?"
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She reached out blindly, her blood-encrusted fingers catching the cuff of his white shirt, staining the crisp fabric crimson. Her pupils dilated with sheer terror. "They didn't want the money... they wanted you to open the envelope."
Downstairs in the empty dining hall, a muffled, resonant thud vibrated up through the reinforced concrete floors.
