Chapter 2 - The Screaming in the Foyer
Nico did not hesitate for another second.
He reached down, took my arm with firm gentleness, and pulled me up from the floor.
He walked over to his closet and pulled out a heavy black cashmere robe, draping it over my trembling frame.
"Tie it," he instructed quietly.
"Stay behind me, do not speak a word, and do not leave my sight."
I knotted the thick belt around my waist, burying my scarred skin beneath the dark, protective wool.
Nico pulled a sleek semiautomatic pistol from the nightstand drawer and checked the chamber with a crisp click.
He slipped the weapon into the waistband at his back, concealed beneath his dress shirt.
He unlocked the heavy bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.
The sound of my father’s screaming bounced violently against the high plaster ceilings below.
"I don't care about your family rules, Dante!" Edmund roared from the bottom of the grand staircase.
"The contract is void!"
"She is my daughter, and I have legal rights to her person!"
Nico walked down the carpeted hallway with the slow, deliberate grace of a panther stalking prey.
I followed two steps behind him, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged bird.
We reached the top of the grand double staircase that curved downward into the marble foyer.
Below, four of Nico’s armed enforcers had their weapons drawn and leveled at my father.
Edmund stood near the double mahogany entrance doors, soaking wet from the storm outside.
His expensive overcoat was drenched, his silver hair plastered across his pale forehead.
Behind him stood two private security guards in gray suits, their hands hovering nervously over their holsters.
They knew they were hopelessly outmatched inside the Ferrara family compound.
"Edmund," Nico’s voice cut through the air, quiet and smooth as a razor blade.
The shouting stopped instantly.
My father looked up, his pale eyes darting from Nico down to where I stood half-hidden in the shadows.
A visible wave of relief washed over my father’s face, immediately followed by naked fear.
"Nora!" Edmund yelled, taking a step toward the stairs before Dante jammed a gun barrel against his chest.
"Get your hands off me, you street thug!" Edmund hissed, swatting at the metal.
"Nico, we need to renegotiate."
"I made a mistake at the club."
"I wasn't thinking clearly under duress."
Nico began descending the marble steps, one measured step at a time.
His shoes made sharp, echoing clicks against the polished stone.
"You signed the civil registry three hours ago, Ashford," Nico said, his voice deadly calm.
"You signed the church documents in the presence of four witnesses."
"You traded your flesh and blood to settle an eight-million-dollar execution order."
"There are no renegotiations in my house."
Edmund swallowed hard, his throat bobbing above his wet silk tie.
"I brought collateral," Edmund said quickly, pulling a soaked leather folder from inside his coat.
"Bearer bonds."
"Five million in municipal bonds, and the deed to the Hamptons estate."
"You can have all of it."
"Just give me the girl back right now."
I watched the desperation in my father’s face, knowing every single twitch of his deceitful mouth.
He had never offered five million dollars for anything concerning my welfare in his entire life.
When I had broken my arm at age fourteen, he had refused to call a private doctor to avoid questions.
Now he was offering his prized real estate just to pull me back through that front door.
Nico reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped five feet away from my father.
He did not look at the leather folder Edmund was frantically holding out.
"Five million dollars and a beach house," Nico mused, tilting his head slightly.
"Six hours ago, you were weeping into the carpet, claiming you were completely bankrupt."
"You told me you didn't have fifty thousand dollars in cash to your name."
"Where did these bonds suddenly come from, Edmund?"
Edmund’s eyes flickered toward me, full of venom and silent threats.
"It doesn't matter where they came from!" Edmund snapped, his voice cracking with hysteria.
"She belongs to me!"
"She’s my daughter, she’s fragile, and she has severe psychological issues!"
"She isn't fit to be a wife to anyone, let alone a man in your position!"
"She needs her medication and her family!"
A cold chill washed over my spine as I heard those familiar lies.
For ten years, Edmund had told everyone in Manhattan society that I was an invalid recluse.
He had told the charity boards and boarding schools that I suffered from delusions and self-harm.
He had used those lies to keep me locked in the east wing of our estate, away from prying eyes.
Nico turned his head slightly, glancing back at me as I stood on the fourth step of the staircase.
He saw the way my hand gripped the banister until my knuckles turned stark white.
He saw the absolute terror that Edmund’s voice summoned from the depths of my memory.
Nico turned back to my father, his posture shifting into something far more dangerous.
"She seemed quite healthy when she walked down the aisle," Nico said coldly.
"And she seems perfectly coherent to me."
"In fact, we were just beginning to have a very interesting conversation upstairs."
Edmund went totally white, every drop of blood draining from his weathered face.
"What did she say to you?" Edmund asked, his voice dropping into a frantic whisper.
"What did you tell him, Nora?"
"Shut your mouth, Ashford," Dante growled, pressing the gun deeper into Edmund’s ribs.
Nico raised a single hand, signaling Dante to stand down.
Nico stepped forward until he was standing toe-to-toe with the wealthy hedge fund manager.
"She hasn't told me everything yet," Nico said, leaning down so only Edmund could hear the full malice.
"She only told me that you came back because you're terrified of what she knows."
Edmund flinched as if he had been struck with an iron rod across the face.
His breath came in short, ragged wheezes through his nose.
"She’s lying," Edmund said, his eyes darting frantically between Nico and the shadows behind him.
"She’s sick, Nico!"
"She invents stories to hurt me!"
"If you listen to her, you're falling into a trap that will bring down your entire family!"
"I have friends in the district attorney’s office, Nico!"
"I have judges on retainer who will sign warrants for this compound before sunrise!"
Nico smiled, but there was no warmth in his face; it was the smile of an executioner adjusting the noose.
"Let them sign the warrants," Nico whispered.
"By sunrise, I will own everything you have ever hidden beneath your floorboards."
"Dante."
"Boss?"
"Throw this trash out onto the street."
"If he steps foot past my security gate again tonight, shoot him between the eyes and dump him in the harbor."
"No!" Edmund screamed, reaching toward me.
"Nora, you keep your mouth shut!"
"Do you hear me, girl?"
"Remember what happens to people who talk!"
Two enforcers seized Edmund by the elbows and dragged him backward toward the heavy front doors.
His shoes squeaked loudly against the marble floor as he thrashed against their iron grips.
His private guards tried to draw their weapons, but Dante had two guns leveled at their heads instantly.
"Drop them or die on the carpet," Dante barked with chilling efficiency.
The guards immediately tossed their pistols onto the floor and backed out into the rain.
The heavy double doors slammed shut, cutting off Edmund’s frantic screams into the stormy night.
The heavy iron bolts automatically slid into place with a series of loud, mechanical thuds.
The foyer fell into absolute, deafening silence.
Dante looked up at Nico, wiping a speck of rainwater from his cheek.
"Do you want me to put extra men on the perimeter, Boss?" Dante asked quietly.
"Double the shifts," Nico commanded without looking away from the staircase.
"Bring three men from the dock house and station them on the roof."
"Nobody enters this property without my personal authorization."
"Understood," Dante nodded, gesturing for the other guards to clean up the wet foyer.
Nico turned around slowly and looked up the staircase directly at me.
The heavy black cashmere robe swallowed my frame, but my eyes remained wide and dilated with fear.
He began walking up the steps toward me, his expression unreadable and dark.
"Come," he said simply as he reached my step.
He did not grab my wrist this time; he simply offered his hand.
I hesitated for a second, then placed my cold fingers into his warm, calloused palm.
He led me back down the long corridor, past the portraits of his ancestors, and back into the master bedroom.
He closed the door and turned the deadbolt with a soft, final click.
He walked over to the mahogany bar in the corner of the room and poured two fingers of amber bourbon.
He turned around and offered the crystal glass to me.
"Drink it," he said.
"Your hands are shaking so hard you're going to collapse."
I took the glass with both hands and swallowed a mouthful of the burning liquid.
It scorched my throat, but it cut through the icy paralysis that had seized my chest.
Nico leaned back against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
His dark eyes bore into mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.
"Now, Nora," Nico said, his voice quiet, steady, and demanding the truth.
"Start from the beginning."
May you like
"Tell me what you saw ten years ago."
"And tell me why your father was willing to risk his life to drag you out of my house."
