Chapter 3 - The Broken Seal
The kitchen in the east wing smelled of dried lavender and boiling broth.
Grace was standing at the stainless steel sink, rinsing a porcelain soup bowl, when the heavy heavy oak door leading to the main house swung open.
She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The sharp, decisive cadence of handmade leather dress shoes against the slate floor was unmistakably Dominic Vale.
"Leave the bowl," Dominic said, stopping three feet behind her.
Grace turned off the faucet, wiped her hands on a clean tea towel, and turned to face him. He looked larger in the small kitchen, his imposing frame filling the narrow space between the island and the refrigerator.
"Mr. Vale," she said calmly. "Is there something wrong with the schedule?"
"Victor’s men were spotted outside your apartment building in Waukegan two hours ago," Dominic said without preamble.
Grace’s expression didn't break, but her hazel eyes narrowed slightly. "My apartment?"
"A gray Ford Taurus with tinted windows," Dominic continued, his voice cold and analytical. "They sat outside your street entrance for forty-five minutes. They know where you live, Miss Miller. They know what bus you take at seven ten in the morning."
Grace looked at the tea towel in her hands, carefully folding it into a neat square. "I don't have anything Victor Vale wants."
"You have access to Julian," Dominic said, stepping closer until he was standing directly over her. "In my world, access is more valuable than cash. Victor thinks you’re a leverage point. He thinks if he presses you hard enough, he can get you to leave something in Julian’s room—a document to sign, a recording device, or a poison."
Grace’s head snapped up, her eyes flashing with a fierce, quiet anger that made Dominic freeze.
"I would never hurt him," she said, her voice dropping into a register that was dead serious.
"I know you wouldn't," Dominic replied softly. "If I thought you would, we wouldn't be standing in this kitchen having a conversation. You’d already be in the river."
The brutal honesty of his words hung in the air between them like exhaust fumes. Grace didn't flinch. She had lived in Chicago long enough to know what men like Dominic Vale were capable of, but she also knew the difference between a threat and a reality.
"So what do you want me to do?" she asked.
"You aren't going back to Waukegan," Dominic said. "As of tonight, you are moving into the guest quarters on the ground floor of the east wing."
"No," Grace said immediately.
Dominic’s eyebrows rose. "No?"
"I have a life in Waukegan, Mr. Vale. I have two cats, a neighbor who depends on me to check her mail, and a life that doesn't involve living inside a armed compound."
"Your cats are being picked up by my driver in thirty minutes," Dominic said, pulling a brass key from his pocket and laying it on the counter. "They will be placed in a private veterinary boarding facility in Lake Forest at my expense until this is resolved. Your neighbor’s mail will be collected by a courier. You are staying here because if you leave this property tomorrow morning, Victor will pick you up off the street before you reach the bus stop."
Grace stared at the brass key on the stone countertop.
"You don't give people many choices, do you?" she murmured.
"I keep people alive," Dominic said flatly. "Choices are a luxury for people who don't have enemies."
He turned to leave, but stopped at the doorway leading to Julian’s sitting room. He looked back at her, his storm-gray eyes softening for a fraction of a second.
"He asked for soup tonight," Dominic said quietly.
Grace looked at him, surprised. "What?"
"Julian," Dominic said, looking toward the dark corridor. "He hasn't asked for soup since the winter before the accident. He told the house manager three years ago that soup took too long to eat and required too much effort. Tonight, he wrote 'vegetable broth' on his menu card."
He looked back at Grace, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.
"You're changing him, Grace," Dominic said, using her first name for the very first time. "And I haven't decided yet if that makes you my greatest asset... or my most dangerous enemy."
He pulled the heavy door shut behind him, leaving her alone in the quiet kitchen with the bubbling broth and the brass key resting on the counter.
May you like
Grace stood still for a long moment, listening to the hum of the refrigerator and the wind howling against the windowpanes. She reached out, picked up the brass key, and slipped it into her apron pocket alongside Julian’s latest note.
Then she ladled the hot vegetable broth into a ceramic bowl, set it on a wooden tray alongside a fresh piece of paper, and walked down the silent, carpeted hall toward the light coming from Julian’s open door.
