Chapter 2 - The Woman Victor Almost Killed
The armored Maybach crossed Chicago at a speed that would have terrified an ordinary passenger.
Victor barely noticed.
Rain struck the windows in violent waves.
His injured hand was wrapped in a white handkerchief that had already turned red.
His driver glanced at it through the mirror.
“Hospital, sir?”
“No.”
Victor stared at his phone.
On the encrypted screen, Nora was still beside Leo.
She had moved the contaminated vial into a small pouch.
Then she sat in the armchair and watched him sleep.
Nothing about her suggested triumph.
Nothing suggested guilt.
She looked exhausted.
Victor thought about how close he had come to making a catastrophic mistake.
Thirty minutes earlier, he had nearly ordered Dante to break into the bedroom and drag Nora away.
Had he done it, the only person protecting Leo might have disappeared.
That realization frightened Victor more than he cared to admit.
By the time they reached Highland Park, the storm had intensified.
The estate gates opened.
Victor entered without speaking to the guards.
Dante followed him into the mansion.
“Want me upstairs?”
“No.”
Dante frowned.
Victor almost never told him to stay behind.
“Victor—”
“Stay downstairs.”
Something in Victor's voice ended the discussion.
He climbed the staircase alone.
The mansion seemed unnaturally quiet.
At Leo's bedroom, Victor used his master key.
The door opened softly.
Nora slept in the chair.
Her head rested near Leo's hand.
Victor stood motionless.
On the bedside table sat the pouch containing the vial.
He stepped toward it.
Nora's eyes opened instantly.
She sat upright.
Her hand moved toward her apron.
Victor raised his palms.
“Don't.”
Nora stared at him.
Then at the clock.
It was after midnight.
“What are you doing here?”
Victor almost smiled at the absurdity of being questioned inside his own house.
Instead, he looked toward Leo.
“Is he safe?”
Nora's expression changed.
“What?”
“My son. Is he safe?”
She rose slowly.
“I don't know what you mean.”
Victor took another step.
“You locked the door.”
Nora went still.
“You tested his soup.”
Her face drained of color.
Victor saw the exact moment she understood.
The room.
The camera.
Her eyes moved toward the teddy bear.
Then the ceiling.
“You've been watching us.”
“Yes.”
Her fear turned immediately into anger.
“You put cameras in a child's bedroom?”
“I protect my family.”
“By secretly watching him?”
“By making sure people don't hurt him.”
Nora's eyes flashed.
“Then congratulations. You finally saw it.”
Victor stared at her.
Neither spoke.
Leo slept between them.
Victor lowered his voice.
“How long?”
Nora looked toward the boy.
“Three weeks.”
Victor felt something tighten in his chest.
“You knew for three weeks?”
“I suspected.”
“And you said nothing?”
“To you?”
Her laugh contained no humor.
“You're Victor Romano.”
“You work in my house.”
“Yes. A house where everyone is terrified of you, half the staff watches everyone else, and your fiancée has political connections powerful enough to destroy careers.”
Victor's gaze hardened.
“You think I would protect her over my son?”
“I didn't know what you would do.”
“You should have told me.”
“I was trying to make sure I wasn't wrong.”
Victor pointed toward the pouch.
“What did the test show?”
Nora hesitated.
“I need a proper laboratory.”
“Nora.”
She looked at Leo again.
“The preliminary reaction is consistent with a strong sedative.”
Victor said nothing.
“Possibly more than one compound,” she continued. “I noticed he became unusually lethargic after certain meals. His pulse slowed. His eyes had trouble focusing. Some days his muscle response was weaker.”
“You're telling me this could have been happening before you arrived?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“I don't know.”
Victor turned away.
His mind moved through every nurse, doctor, meal, medication bottle, hospital visit.
Every time someone told him Leo's condition was expected.
Every time Madeline said he was “having a difficult day.”
Every time she suggested sending him away.
Nora watched him carefully.
“You can't confront her yet.”
Victor turned back.
“That isn't your decision.”
“If you confront Madeline tonight, she'll destroy whatever evidence exists.”
“I don't require evidence.”
“I do.”
Victor stepped closer.
“Why?”
“Because killing one person doesn't tell you who helped her.”
His eyes narrowed.
Nora had reached the same conclusion he had.
She continued.
“Someone is getting controlled medication into this house. Someone is bypassing your kitchen. Someone knows Leo's medical history well enough to make the symptoms look natural.”
Victor studied her differently now.
“You've done this before.”
Silence.
“At the hospital,” he said. “The fentanyl.”
Nora's jaw tightened.
Victor waited.
Finally, she spoke.
“There was a pediatric surgeon at Rush.”
Victor remained still.
“Patients in one unit kept receiving incorrect narcotic doses,” Nora said. “Small amounts. Enough to keep them sedated longer. Parents were being billed for unnecessary procedures while children were too medicated to complain.”
“You discovered it?”
“I suspected it.”
“What happened?”
“I took medication samples.”
“And they accused you of theft.”
“The doctor had friends.”
Nora's smile was bitter.
“Important friends.”
“Why were the charges dropped?”
“Because someone eventually found enough evidence to make prosecution embarrassing for the hospital. They quietly dismissed the criminal case.”
“But they didn't restore your license.”
“No.”
Victor understood.
Nora had already lost one career for refusing to ignore something wrong.
Now she had walked into Victor Romano's home and found another child being drugged.
“Why help Leo?”
Nora looked surprised by the question.
“He's seven.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It should be.”
Something inside Victor shifted.
For more than a year, everyone had wanted something.
Money.
Protection.
Access.
Influence.
Nora wanted nothing from Leo.
She simply believed a frightened child deserved protection.
Victor moved toward the bed.
Leo's face looked peaceful in the dim light.
Victor touched his son's hair.
“I failed him.”
Nora's voice softened.
“You didn't know.”
“I should have.”
“You were grieving.”
Victor looked at her sharply.
People did not discuss his grief.
Nora didn't retreat.
“You lost your wife. Your son nearly died. You surrounded yourself with guards because you thought another gun was the answer.”
Victor's expression darkened.
“Careful.”
“I am being careful.”
“No, you aren't.”
“Maybe nobody around you is.”
Victor almost told her to leave.
Instead, he sat beside Leo.
“What do we do?”
It was perhaps the first time Victor Romano had sincerely asked an employee that question.
Nora pulled the pouch from the table.
“I need this analyzed by someone Madeline can't reach.”
Victor thought.
“I know someone.”
“Someone you trust?”
Victor looked at her.
“I don't trust anyone.”
“Then someone you trust more than the others.”
That was different.
Victor took out his phone.
He called Dr. Samuel Levin, an independent toxicologist who had once helped him discreetly after an associate was poisoned.
The doctor answered on the fourth ring.
“Victor?”
“I need a private analysis.”
“What kind?”
“A food sample.”
Pause.
“How private?”
“No records.”
Another pause.
“When?”
Victor looked at Nora.
“Now.”
An hour later, a trusted driver collected the vial without knowing what it contained.
Victor remained in Leo's room.
Nora sat across from him.
Neither wanted to leave.
At three in the morning, Leo began moving restlessly.
Nora immediately leaned forward.
“Leo?”
His eyes opened.
She touched his wrist.
“Look at me.”
He did.
Victor watched.
Nora asked, “Are you hurting?”
One blink.
No.
“Are you scared?”
Two blinks.
Yes.
Nora squeezed his hand.
Victor leaned closer.
“Leo.”
The boy's eyes moved to his father.
Victor swallowed.
“I'm here.”
Leo stared at him.
For several seconds, Victor wondered if his son blamed him.
Perhaps he should.
Victor had built an empire capable of tracking enemies across continents.
Yet danger had been carried directly into his child's bedroom on a silver tray.
Leo moved his fingers.
Slowly.
He reached toward Victor.
Victor took his hand.
Nora looked away, giving them privacy without leaving.
Father and son remained that way until dawn.
At 6:17 a.m., Victor's phone vibrated.
Dr. Levin.
Victor answered.
“Tell me.”
The toxicologist's voice was grave.
“The sample contains clonazepam.”
Victor's grip tightened.
“And something else.”
“What?”
“A neuromuscular suppressant. Unusual choice. Very low dosage, but repeated exposure could severely weaken voluntary movement.”
Victor's face became expressionless.
“Could it affect speech?”
“Potentially. Especially combined with trauma and long-term sedation.”
Victor looked at Leo.
The room suddenly felt too small.
“You're sure?”
“I ran it twice.”
Victor ended the call.
Nora read the answer in his eyes.
She covered her mouth.
“Oh God.”
Victor stood.
The rage inside him became strangely quiet.
Dangerously quiet.
Nora rose too.
“Victor.”
“My son has been poisoned.”
“Yes.”
“In my house.”
“Yes.”
“By the woman who sleeps down the hall.”
“We still need to know who supplied her.”
Victor stared toward the bedroom door.
Downstairs, Madeline would soon wake.
She would dress beautifully.
She would smile.
She would ask about breakfast.
And she would have no idea that Victor knew.
He looked back at Nora.
“From this moment forward, you don't eat anything prepared in this house.”
Nora blinked.
“Neither does Leo.”
“I already—”
“You take food only from supplies I personally arrange. Water too.”
She nodded.
“You don't go anywhere alone.”
“I don't need a bodyguard.”
“That wasn't a suggestion.”
Despite everything, Nora almost smiled.
“There he is.”
“Who?”
“The terrifying Victor Romano everyone warned me about.”
Victor's expression barely changed.
“Miss Hayes, if anyone touches you or my son before this ends, terrifying will be an inadequate description.”
Nora studied him.
For the first time, she seemed to believe him completely.
Downstairs, a door opened.
Madeline's voice drifted through the mansion.
“Victor? Are you home?”
Victor and Nora looked at each other.
The game had begun.
May you like
And now Madeline was the only person in the house who did not know she was being watched.
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