Chapter 6 - The Trap is Set
Claire wrenched her wrist free from Hannah's grip, her face contorted in absolute rage. "You are fired! Pack your cheap bags and get off this property tonight before I have security throw you out into the street!"
"She isn't going anywhere," a deep, dangerous voice growled from the floor.
Claire froze, turning her head slowly down toward Nicholas.
Using his powerful upper body strength, Nicholas had pulled himself upright against the base of a marble pillar, sitting on the floor with his jaw set in pure, lethal granite. His eyes were no longer hazy or disoriented; the sheer adrenaline of the assault had temporarily burned through the fog of the toxin.
"This is my house, Claire," Nicholas said, his voice dropping into the terrifying, low frequency that had once made Chicago mob bosses sweat in closed rooms. "You don't fire anyone here. Ever."
At that exact moment, the heavy double front doors swung open.
Walter Bell walked into the foyer, flanked by two towering, dark-suited security men who managed the estate's perimeter. Walter’s eyes instantly took in the scene: the overturned wheelchair, the blood on Nicholas's lip, Claire standing in her silver dress with her chest heaving, and Hannah standing like a sentinel in pale blue scrubs.
Walter’s grandfatherly demeanor evaporated instantly. His face turned to cold iron. "Boss?"
"Lock the outer gates, Walter," Nicholas commanded quietly, never breaking eye contact with Claire. "Nobody leaves this estate tonight. Not Claire. Not her brother Marcus. Nobody."
Claire’s face drained of every single drop of color. "Nicholas... darling, you're confused... the nurse attacked me! She pushed you out of your chair!"
"Shut your mouth, Claire," Nicholas said softly.
Hannah immediately dropped to her knees beside Nicholas, pulling a small medical penlight from her pocket to check his pupils while taking his pulse with her other hand. "His pulse is elevated, Walter. He's been ingested a heavy dose of a neuro-inhibitor within the last forty-five minutes. We need to administer an immediate gastric lavage or neutralizing agent before the toxin binds to his neural pathways."
Claire took two steps back toward the grand staircase, her hands shaking as she reached for her silver designer clutch. "You're all insane! This is slander! My brother is a major shareholder in Valenti Logistics! You can't detain us here!"
Walter stepped smoothly into her path, his broad frame completely blocking the stairs. "Mrs. Whitmore, I strongly suggest you sit on the foyer bench and remain quiet while the boss finishes speaking."
Nicholas looked up at Hannah as she carefully placed a cold, damp cloth against his bleeding lip. His dark eyes softened for a fraction of a second as he looked at the small nurse kneeling in the spilled pill cups.
"You knew," Nicholas whispered to her, his voice rough. "You knew about the medication before tonight."
"I sent a sample to the state crime lab yesterday morning," Hannah whispered back, her fingers steady against his neck. "They confirmed the poison two hours ago. I came downstairs to stop you from drinking it... but I was too late for the evening glass."
A dark, lethal smile flickered across Nicholas's face—not a smile of fear, but the smile of a predator who had finally located the hunter in the dark.
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"You're a remarkable woman, Nurse Reed," Nicholas murmured softly.
"I'm a nurse who likes her patients alive, Mr. Valenti," Hannah replied flatly. "Now let me do my job and get you into an upright position before this toxin causes respiratory distress."
