Chapter 4 - The Surveillance Room
Claire’s heart slammed against her ribcage, but years of high-stress ER trauma units saved her. She didn't pull her hand back abruptly. She calmly zipped her medical bag, turned around, and faced the mob boss.
“Not a problem with the medication, Mr. Moretti,” Claire said smoothly, standing up to place herself between Dominic and Victor. “It’s a protocol check. His blood pressure spiked dangerously high last night after the fall. When that happens, hospital standards require us to take a sample of his current dosage to run a potency assay, ensuring his body isn't developing a tolerance.”
Dominic stood still, his hands resting casually in his suit pockets. He looked at Claire, then at his father.
Victor sat perfectly still, putting on his best scowl. “She’s fussing over nothing,” Victor growled, waving his good hand dismissively. “I don't need a damn lab test. I need a real breakfast.”
Dominic didn't look convinced. He took two steps closer to Claire, his presence towering over her.
“We have a full medical facility attached to the estate,” Dominic said, his voice smooth as velvet and cold as ice. “Dr. Mercer can perform any potency assay here. You don't need to take company property off the estate premises.”
“Dr. Mercer is an estate practitioner, Mr. Moretti,” Claire countered politely but firmly, refusing to back down. “I use an independent reference lab at Massachusetts General. It eliminates bias and gives us a full chemical panel in four hours. If you want your father to avoid a second stroke, you’ll let me do my job.”
Dominic stared down at her. Most men in his organization would have dropped to their knees begging for mercy if he looked at them with half that intensity. But this five-foot-six nurse in blue scrubs stood her ground, her clear hazel eyes matching his gaze inch for inch.
A faint, dangerous flicker of respect flashed across Dominic’s dark eyes.
“Walk with me, Nurse Donovan,” Dominic commanded, turning toward the hallway.
Claire hesitated for a fraction of a second, exchanged a quick glance with Victor, and followed Dominic out of the master suite.
Instead of leading her downstairs toward the main entrance, Dominic walked down a long, private corridor on the west wing of the house—an area off-limits to household staff. He stopped in front of a reinforced steel door equipped with a biometric fingerprint scanner and a digital keypad.
Dominic pressed his thumb against the glass. The lock clicked open with a heavy hydraulic hiss.
“Inside,” he said.
Claire stepped into a windowless, climate-controlled room. Wall-to-wall high-definition monitors illuminated the darkness, displaying real-time camera feeds from every single inch of the Moretti estate: the front gate, the perimeter fences, the kitchen, the hallways, the wine cellar, and... Victor’s bedroom.
Claire stared at the monitors. “You watch him 24 hours a day?”
“I watch everyone 24 hours a day,” Dominic corrected, stepping up behind her. “Including you.”
Dominic reached over her shoulder, pressing a button on a master control board. The screen displaying Victor’s bedroom zoomed in, rewinding to the previous night’s dinner incident.
Dominic pointed at the screen. “Watch.”
On the high-definition monitor, Claire saw herself holding Victor as he fell. She saw Victor whisper into her ear. But then Dominic changed the angle to an overhead camera positioned directly above the dining table.
From that angle, Claire’s eyes widened in shock.
While Victor was causing a scene and falling to the floor, drawing everyone’s attention—including Claire’s and Dominic’s—a hand had reached out near the head of the table.
It was Raymond DeLuca’s hand.
While everyone was looking at Victor, Raymond had casually slipped his fingers into the pocket of Sophia’s jacket hanging on the back of her chair, dropped a small glass vial inside, and pulled his hand back—all in less than two seconds.
Claire gasped softly, turning to look at Dominic.
Dominic wasn't looking at the screen. He was looking at her.
“My father thinks I don't know what happens in this house,” Dominic said quietly, his voice dangerously low. “He thinks I am blind to the snakes sitting at my own table. He whispered to you last night that someone was trying to kill him, didn't he?”
Claire swallowed hard, realizing that lying to Dominic now was impossible.
“Yes,” she admitted softly. “He did.”
“And you kept it from me,” Dominic said, stepping closer until she was backed up against the edge of the control console. “Why?”
“Because I didn't know if I could trust you!” Claire blurted out, her anger flaring up to meet his intimidation. “You’re a mob boss, Mr. Moretti! People disappear around you! How was I supposed to know you weren't the one ordering those altered pills?!”
Dominic stared at her, his jaw clenching tightly. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the humming of the computer servers.
May you like
Then, slowly, Dominic reached out. His large, warm hand gently brushed a strand of dark hair away from Claire’s face, his thumb lingering for a fraction of a second near her cheekbone.
“I would burn this entire city to the ground before I let anyone hurt my father,” Dominic said, his tone raw, fierce, and entirely honest. “I brought you into this house because you were the only nurse who didn't look at him like a dying paycheck. Now tell me... what was wrong with those pills?”
