Chapter 3 - The Chestnut Hill Sanctuary
The Chestnut Hill estate looked less like a home and more like a fortress disguised as a nineteenth-century European manor. Iron gates swung open automatically as the Mercedes approached, sliding back into high-security stone walls draped in thick ivy. Armed guards stood post near the wrought-iron side entrances, their dark tactical vests blending seamlessly with the shadows of towering oak trees.
When the car rolled to a halt in front of the grand double doors, Sadie stepped out into the damp night air, pulling her oversized canvas coat tighter around her shoulders.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered, staring up at the slate roof and towering stone chimneys. "I look like a stray dog you picked up behind a dumpster."
"Stray dogs don't usually break assassin's knees," Dominic replied, stepping out behind her and gesturing for her to follow.
Inside, the foyer was breathtaking. A sweeping mahogany staircase rose toward a vaulted ceiling lit by an enormous crystal chandelier. Antiques lined the walls, and the floors were polished dark wood covered in expensive Persian rugs. Yet, despite the staggering luxury, the entire place felt sterile—empty, cold, and aggressively quiet.
A middle-aged woman in a neat black dress emerged from a hallway to the left, her silver hair pulled back into a strict bun. She stopped short when she saw Sadie, her eyes darting from Sadie’s grease-stained uniform pants to the makeshift bandage wrapped around her burned fingers.
"Mr. Russo," the woman said, her voice carrying a crisp British accent. "I wasn't informed we were having... guests."
"Mrs. Gable, this is Sadie Bennett," Dominic said, shrugging off his charcoal jacket and handing it to her. "She’ll be staying in the east guest suite for the next few days. Prepare a room, get her some proper clothes, and for God's sake, find some burn cream for her hand."
Mrs. Gable’s eyes narrowed slightly as she appraised Sadie, but her professional mask remained firmly in place. "Very well, sir. Right this way, Miss Bennett."
"Wait," Sadie planted her feet, looking directly at Dominic. "Days? You said days? I have work! I have classes! I can't just move into a mob boss's castle because some guy with a crowbar tried to rearrange your furniture!"
"Your restaurant is closed by order of the police department while forensics combs through the kitchen," Dominic reminded her smoothly, turning toward his study. "And your university classes are online for the rest of the week due to storm damage on campus. As for your job—consider yourself on paid administrative leave, courtesy of Lombardi’s new silent partner."
Sadie’s jaw dropped. "You bought the restaurant?"
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"It saves on tip-sharing disputes," Dominic called back over his shoulder as the heavy oak door of his study clicked shut.
Mrs. Gable sighed softly, gesturing down the long, dimly lit corridor. "Come along, dear. Mr. Russo rarely changes his mind once it's set in stone. It saves everyone a great deal of energy if you simply surrender to the inevitable."
