Chapter 1 - The West Wing

Norah woke to the sound of the Atlantic Ocean hammering against the jagged cliffs below her window.
The fire in the massive hearth had burned down to glowing orange embers.
She was still wearing her blue hospital scrubs.
The antique clock on the mantel ticked heavily, announcing that it was just past six in the morning.
She sat up on the silk sheets, the heavy gold ring on her left hand catching the pale dawn light.
Dominic Russo had told her this marriage was a transaction, yet he had demanded forever.
She walked into the adjoining bathroom and washed her face with freezing water to ensure she was not dreaming.
A sleek black dress and a pair of designer heels had been laid out perfectly on the velvet armchair.
A small, handwritten note rested on the fabric.
"Put this on and meet me in the dining room," the note read in Dominic's sharp, elegant script.
She dressed quickly, feeling entirely out of place in the luxurious silk that hugged her tired frame.
The corridors of the estate were eerily silent as she made her way downstairs.
Carla had warned her to stay away from the West Wing, which naturally meant that was exactly where Norah’s eyes drifted.
As she passed the grand staircase, she saw a heavy oak door left slightly ajar at the end of the forbidden hallway.
She knew she should walk away, but the lingering fear for her brother pushed her forward.
She crept down the shadowed corridor, holding her breath as she peered through the narrow crack in the door.
Dominic was sitting behind a mahogany desk, swirling a glass of amber liquid.
Sitting across from him, sipping espresso and laughing warmly, was Agent Sarah Jenkins.
Sarah was the FBI agent Norah had mentioned at the restaurant, the friend she thought she was using as leverage.
"Norah actually thought she was blackmailing you with my audit, Dominic," Sarah laughed.
Norah felt the blood drain entirely from her face.
Dominic smiled a cold, calculating smile.
"She played her part perfectly, just as we planned," Dominic replied.
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Norah backed away from the door in horror, realizing her leverage was completely fabricated.
Before she could turn to run, a cold, metallic barrel was pressed firmly against the back of her head.