Chapter 2 - THE GUNSHOT BELOW THE PENTHOUSE
The gunshot shattered the silence.
Nico Ferrara moved before I could scream.
He pulled me behind him, one hand reaching for the pistol beneath his jacket.
“Stay here.”
I grabbed his sleeve.
“Please.”
He turned.
My entire body was shaking.
For fifteen years, the sound of gunfire had dragged me back to the same memory.
A locked study.
A man's desperate voice.
Blood spreading beneath a door.
And my father telling me that if I ever spoke about what I'd seen, nobody would believe me.
Nico looked at my face.
Then lowered his weapon slightly.
“Nora.”
I couldn't answer.
He reached for a folded blanket and placed it around my shoulders.
“Get dressed. Lock the door after I leave.”
I nodded.
He stepped into the hallway.
A man in a dark suit appeared.
“Boss, Ashford pulled a gun.”
Nico's expression hardened.
“Anyone hurt?”
“Rafael took a bullet in the shoulder. He's conscious.”
“And Ashford?”
“Disarmed. In the security room.”
Nico looked back at me.
Then said something that surprised me.
“Call an ambulance for Rafael. And contact the police.”
The guard hesitated.
“Police?”
Nico's eyes narrowed.
“A man entered my home with a firearm and shot someone. Yes. The police.”
The guard nodded.
Nico turned toward me.
“I'll be back.”
Then he disappeared down the hallway.
I stood alone in the bedroom, clutching the blanket.
For the first time that night, I realized something.
Nico Ferrara had every reason to hate my father.
But he had not asked his men to kill him.
He had asked them to keep him alive.
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And somehow, that frightened me even more.
Because if Edmund Ashford was alive, he could still reach me.
