Chapter 4 - The Medicine That Wasn’t Medicine
I should have walked away.
A reasonable person would have.
I had been employed for less than twenty-four hours. My patient was a wounded organized-crime figure, somebody had sabotaged his medication, two members of his inner circle had disappeared, and his former security chief had accessed my home address.
Nothing about that situation appeared in nursing school.
I picked up my duffel.
Dominic watched.
“You're leaving.”
“I need clothes.”
His expression hardened.
“We'll buy them.”
“That's not normal.”
“Neither is this.”
“My landlord already thinks I’m avoiding him.”
“You’re worried about rent?”
“I was worried about rent before I discovered someone was trying to poison my patient.”
“How much?”
“No.”
“Nora.”
“Absolutely not.”
He looked genuinely puzzled.
“You need money.”
“I need employment.”
“I can pay your rent.”
“And then I owe you.”
“You already work for me.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I earn the money.”
Dominic stared at me for a moment.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
It was the first argument I won without ten minutes of resistance.
That worried me more than when he fought.
Leo arranged for one of the household drivers to take me to my apartment with two security men.
Dominic hated the idea.
“I don't need bodyguards,” I said.
“You do now.”
“Your bodyguards seem to have a questionable success rate.”
Leo coughed.
Dominic glared at me.
“Two men.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“One.”
“Three.”
“You negotiate like a child.”
“And you negotiate badly.”
“Two.”
“Fine.”
Before I left, Dominic handed me a plain black phone.
“Keep this with you.”
“I have a phone.”
“That one goes directly to Leo and me.”
“How romantic.”
His expression went blank.
I regretted the joke immediately.
Then Dominic said, “Try not to make me regret keeping you alive.”
“You’re the patient.”
“So far.”
My apartment was untouched.
That almost made it worse.
I packed clothes, toiletries and the stack of overdue bills I had been pretending not to see.
One envelope stood out.
No stamp.
No return address.
It had been pushed beneath my door.
I froze.
One of the guards noticed.
“Ms. Hayes?”
I picked up the envelope using a kitchen towel.
Inside was one sheet of white paper.
Three words.
GO HOME, NURSE.
I stared at it.
The guard took a photograph and called Leo.
The black phone rang thirty seconds later.
Dominic.
“You received something.”
“News travels fast.”
“What did it say?”
“You already know.”
“Read it.”
“Why?”
“Read it.”
I sighed.
“Go home, nurse.”
A pause.
Then Dominic said, “You're not returning to that apartment.”
“You don't control where I live.”
“Nora.”
“I'll stay at the mansion temporarily.”
“Good.”
“Temporarily.”
Silence.
“Dominic?”
“I heard you.”
We returned to the estate.
Dr. Park arrived that afternoon with the complete laboratory results.
I knew it was bad the moment she stepped into Dominic’s room.
She closed the door.
“The syringe contained saline and a low concentration of dexamethasone.”
I frowned.
“A steroid.”
“Yes.”
Dominic looked between us.
“Meaning?”
I answered.
“Repeated steroids can suppress your immune response.”
Evelyn nodded.
“With an untreated infection, it could make things significantly worse.”
Dominic’s expression became unreadable.
“So the goal was to weaken me.”
“Most likely.”
“Slowly.”
“Yes.”
“No obvious poison.”
“No.”
“A death that looks like complications from the gunshot.”
Evelyn didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
Dominic leaned back.
“Clever.”
I hated the admiration in his voice.
“It's attempted murder.”
“In my world, clever and murderous aren't mutually exclusive.”
“Maybe that's the problem with your world.”
His eyes moved toward mine.
“Maybe.”
That answer caught me off guard.
Evelyn changed the subject.
“I also tested the antibiotic vial. Same thing.”
“Saline and steroid?”
“Yes.”
“How long?” I asked.
“Based on the remaining quantity, I’d estimate several doses.”
Dominic looked toward the rain-covered window.
His voice became quiet.
“Someone wanted me conscious long enough to believe the infection was killing me.”
Leo entered.
“Sir, we found Vincent's vehicle.”
“Where?”
“Train station.”
“Cameras?”
“He boarded nothing.”
“Decoy.”
“Most likely.”
Leo placed a folder on the table.
“There’s more.”
He opened it.
“Vincent transferred nine hundred thousand dollars from a shell company forty-eight hours before the warehouse attack.”
“To where?”
“Another shell corporation.”
“Owner?”
“We’re tracing it.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Now you understand why I don't trust people.”
I folded my arms.
“I understand why you don't trust Vincent.”
“No difference.”
“There is.”
He looked skeptical.
“One man betrayed you. That doesn't mean everyone will.”
“You're young.”
“I'm twenty-eight.”
“Exactly.”
“And how old are you?”
“Thirty-three.”
“Ancient wisdom.”
Evelyn laughed.
Dominic looked offended.
That evening his fever dropped below one hundred one for the first time.
He ate half a bowl of soup.
He complained about all of it.
“Too salty.”
“Eat.”
“It's terrible.”
“Eat.”
“You enjoy giving orders.”
“Only to you.”
He looked at me.
There was something different in the silence that followed.
Less hostility.
Something warmer.
I immediately looked away.
Dangerous men were still men.
And I was still his nurse.
At 10:30 p.m., Leo brought news.
“We traced the company receiving Vincent's payment.”
Dominic sat straighter.
“Who owns it?”
Leo placed a document on the bed.
“On paper, a holding company in Nevada.”
“And behind it?”
“Someone named Elena Caruso.”
Dominic went still.
I looked at him.
“You know her.”
He didn't answer.
“Dominic?”
His face had gone pale for reasons unrelated to fever.
Finally he said:
“Elena Caruso has been dead for twelve years.”
Leo nodded.
“Yes.”
My skin prickled.
“Then someone is using her identity.”
Dominic looked at the document.
“That identity wasn't public.”
“Who was she?” I asked.
For a long time, he said nothing.
Then his voice dropped.
“My mother.”
And suddenly the conspiracy inside the Rossi mansion was no longer only about business.
It was about a dead woman.
A hidden account.
May you like
And something Dominic’s family had buried twelve years earlier.
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