Chapter 2 - The Poisoned Cup
The storm outside rattled the reinforced windowpanes of Grayhaven House as Viktor, the estate’s head of security, finally stepped into the room, pushing past the frozen guards with his hand resting heavily on the grip of his Glock.
“Boss,” Viktor said, his voice hard as iron, though his eyes darted nervously toward Lila and me. “Should I clear the room? Dr. Evans is downstairs with the fresh saline drip. We can’t have kitchen staff wandering around the east wing—especially not... this.”
“Shut up, Viktor,” Damian rasped, his voice regaining a fraction of its old, gravelly authority. He slowly slid his hand off Lila’s, though his eyes remained fixed on my daughter with an intensity that bordered on obsession. “They aren't going anywhere.”
“Sir?” Viktor frowned, his gaze narrowing at me. “She breached the quarantine. If word gets out that the boss is incapacitated—that someone slipped past the detail—the council will move in by nightfall. You know how the Chicago families are circling.”
“Let them circle,” Damian murmured, closing his eyes as another wave of pain crossed his pale features. He reached out and grabbed the edge of the mahogany headboard to steady himself. “They think I drank the vintage Bordeaux because I wanted to celebrate the docks acquisition. They don't know the sommelier was bought out by my own cousin.”
I froze, hovering half-bent over the mattress. The kitchen staff had whispered rumors for weeks about how the boss had taken suddenly, catastrophically ill after a private dinner three nights ago. A slow-acting organophosphate neurotoxin, the senior cook had muttered behind closed doors, something untraceable until it liquefied the liver and shut down the cardiac valves.
“You know who poisoned you?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Damian’s eyes snapped open. He looked at me with a cold, piercing appraisal that had made grown men beg for mercy in interrogation rooms.
“You talk out of turn for a maid, Mrs... what is your name?”
“Elena,” I answered steadily, chin held high despite the terror clawing at my throat. “Elena Vance. And I’m only a maid because the agency lost my certification paperwork after the fire at my last apartment. But I’m not stupid, Mr. Volkov. If someone in this house is trying to kill you, keeping a four-year-old child wandering around the hallways is a tactical nightmare. We need to leave.”
Viktor snorted softly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Leave? Nobody leaves Grayhaven once they’ve seen the boss like this. You know the rules.”
“She stays,” Damian interrupted, his voice dropping into a register that brook no argument. He shifted his weight, wincing as a spasm hit his chest. He looked back down at Lila, who had pulled her cloth rabbit out of her raincoat pocket and was offering its worn ear to the terrifying mafia boss.
May you like
Damian stared at the stuffed toy for a long moment. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Slowly, awkwardly, he took the rabbit’s ear between his thumb and forefinger.
“She stays,” Damian repeated, his eyes locking onto mine. “And you, Elena... you’re going to help me figure out which of my trusted men handed the glass to the sommelier.”
