Chapter 6 - Glass and Amber Light
The rain had started by the time we reached the garage, slicking the concrete ramps of the Caruso Tower into dark ribbons of mirrored gray. Dominic's black sedan idled near the private elevator bay, its headlights cutting twin cones through the swirling mist. He held the rear door open for me, his beige suit jacket pulled tight against the damp chill rolling off the river. I slipped inside, cradling Grace tightly against my gray service uniform, my heart still hammering a steady, frantic rhythm against my ribs. The baby was sleeping now, her breathing soft and even, completely oblivious to the digital war being waged three floors above us.
Dominic slid into the seat beside me, his dark hair damp at the temples, the gold band on his left ring finger catching the dim amber glow of the dashboard lights. He didn't speak to the driver; he simply tapped the frosted glass partition with his knuckles, and the car glided forward into the underground transit tunnel.
"The security chief locked out Vance's terminal within sixty seconds of my call," Dominic said quietly, breaking the heavy silence inside the cabin. He loosened his brown tie, pulling it slightly away from his white collar. "Whoever tried to scrub those files won't get back in until morning. But it confirms what we feared. Vance isn't acting alone."
I looked down at Grace, adjusting the pink bow in her light brown hair. "You think he knows about the child?"
"I think he knows Julian left something behind," Dominic replied, turning his gaze toward me. His eyes were dark, shadowed by the city lights flashing overhead as we emerged onto the highway. "And if he connects Julian's disappearance to you—to either of you—he won't hesitate to cover his tracks permanently. That's why you're coming to my place. It's the only perimeter I control completely."
His apartment occupied the top floor of a minimalist glass-and-steel building overlooking the glittering expanse of the downtown skyline. When we stepped out of the private elevator, the space was cold, vast, and silent, save for the low hum of the climate control system. Dominic set his leather briefcase on the entryway marble table and immediately turned to me, his shoulders rigid.
"There's a nursery on the east wing," he said, his voice softer now, though still carrying that unmistakable executive command. "I had it prepared when... years ago, when we thought the family would expand. It hasn't been used, but the staff keeps it clean. You'll stay there tonight."
"I can sleep on the sofa," I said, shifting Grace in my arms.
May you like
Dominic stepped closer, his tall frame blocking the cool light of the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a second, the defensive armor he wore in the boardroom seemed to crack, leaving only a tired, grieving man who looked terrifyingly like the brother I had known in secret.
"No," he said firmly. "You'll use the suite. I'll be in the study if you need anything."
