Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Dark
As the weeks passed, the tension within the Romano estate grew thick enough to cut with a blade.
Damen’s security team had conducted three separate internal investigations into the poisoned scotch, but the results had come back clean. The decanter had been handled only by the inner circle, and no outside intruders had breached the perimeter.
That meant the traitor was still living inside the house.
One rainy Thursday night, around midnight, I couldn't sleep. The sound of thunder rolling across the Chicago skyline filled the room, making the window panes vibrate.
Ellie was fast asleep, wrapped in her thick wool blanket, with Atlas lying beside her bed like a carved stone statue.
I pulled on a warm cardigan and walked out into the dimly lit hallway to fetch a glass of warm milk from the second-floor kitchenette.
The corridor was silent, bathed in the soft amber glow of the wall sconces. As I walked past the entrance to the west balcony, I heard voices whispering from behind the heavy velvet curtains.
I paused, pressing my back against the cold wall.
"...he's getting suspicious," a voice whispered harshly. It was Nicholas. "He shifted all the shipping routes to the eastern docks without telling me. He knows someone inside helped Vane."
"Then finish it," a second voice replied—a deep, raspy voice I didn't recognize. "Lucian Vane is tired of waiting. If Damen doesn't sign the treaty by the end of the week, we take the girl."
My blood ran cold. The girl.
"Not the maid's daughter," Nicholas snapped, his voice laced with annoyance. "The dog won't leave her side. Touch the kid, and that beast will tear the house apart."
"Then shoot the dog!" the raspy voice hissed. "On Sunday night, during the storm. We cut the main power lines. You open the side gate near the stables. Vane's men will handle Damen. Just make sure the girl and the dog are locked in the cellar so they don't interfere."
I pressed my hands against my mouth to stifle a scream. My knees buckled slightly against the oak wainscoting.
Before I could back away, my slipper squeaked against the polished floor.
"Who's there?" Nicholas’s voice barked from behind the curtain.
Terror seized my chest. I turned around and ran as fast and as quietly as I could down the carpeted hallway, darting around the corner just as the velvet curtain was shoved open.
I threw myself into my room, pulling the heavy door shut and turning the lock with shaking hands.
My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I leaned my back against the door, gasping for air in the darkness.
A soft thud sounded from the corner.
Atlas had risen from the floor. In the darkness, his pale yellow eyes burned with intense intelligence. He walked slowly across the rug, stopped right in front of me, and rested his massive chin gently against my trembling knee, letting out a low, reassuring breath.
I collapsed onto my knees, burying my face in his thick neck fur, holding onto the dog as tears of fright spilled down my face.
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"They're going to hurt him, Atlas," I sobbed quietly into his fur. "They're going to kill Damen."
Atlas let out a low, deep rumble from his chest, licking my cheek once with his warm tongue, as if making a silent vow.
