Chapter 2 - The Audit of the Untethered Soul
The touch lingered longer than necessary.
Dominic’s thumb traced the dry contours of her lip before he withdrew his hand, leaving a phantom warmth that made Norah’s skin crawl with sudden, confusing electricity.
She blinked, her breath catching in her throat.
“Perfect?” she echoed, her voice trembling. “You think it’s perfect that I have no 1? That nobody will look for me?”
Dominic straightened his jacket, his dark eyes sweeping over her slouched posture, the cheap polyester blend of her blazer, and the dark circles under her eyes.
“It means there is no vulnerability to exploit,” Dominic said smoothly, walking back toward the mahogany desk. “No leverage for my rivals to use against you. No weak links in the chain I am about to forge.”
“Forge?” Norah stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floorboards. “I am not part of your organization. I am an independent contractor sent by Miller & Associates to reconcile your books. Now that I’ve found Frank’s theft, my job is done. I’m leaving.”
She grabbed her leather satchel, her hands shaking as she shoved her laptop inside.
“You’re not going anywhere, Norah,” Dominic said, his tone dropping into a flat, immovable register that chilled her bones.
The door clicked open, and 1 of the heavy-set guards stepped back into the room, blocking her exit.
“I have rights,” Norah stammered, backing away. “You can’t just detain me. This is kidnapping.”
“This is protection,” Dominic corrected, stepping closer to her until she was trapped between the desk and his tall, imposing frame. “You saw Frank. You saw the offshore accounts. You know the exact structure of my revenue streams. Do you honestly believe I can let you walk out of here and talk to local law enforcement or federal regulators?”
“I won’t say anything! I just want to go home and sleep!”
“Home?” Dominic let out a cold, humorless chuckle. “A drafty apartment filled with medical bills and memories of a dead woman? That isn’t a home, Norah. That’s a cage.”
He reached out, his long fingers catching a stray lock of hair that had fallen across her forehead, tucking it behind her ear.
His touch was terrifyingly intimate.
“You gave me your audit report,” Dominic murmured, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “Now let me give you mine. You are drowning in debt. Your firm pays you a pittance. You have spent your entire adult life sacrificing yourself for a ghost. And in return, the world gave you nothing.”
Norah swallowed hard, a tear finally breaking free and tracking down her cheek.
“What do you want from me?” she whispered.
“I want your brain,” Dominic said without hesitation. “And since you have no ties, no attachments, and nothing waiting for you in that miserable apartment, you are going to work for me. Full time. As my personal financial director.”
“And if I refuse?”
May you like
Dominic tilted his head, a dark, dangerous smile playing on his lips.
“Then you go to the warehouse with Frank. The choice, Miss Miller, is entirely yours.”
