Chapter 2 - The Setup
"I thought Carla told you to stay out of the West Wing," Victor's hollow voice whispered in her ear.
Norah froze, her heart violently slamming against her ribs as the hitman kept the gun pressed to her skull.
Dominic’s voice called out from inside the study, completely calm and devoid of surprise.
"Let her in, Victor."
The heavy oak door swung open, and Victor shoved Norah roughly into the room.
Sarah did not look guilty or surprised to see her old high school friend trembling in the doorway.
"You set me up," Norah choked out, staring at the FBI agent who was supposed to be on the right side of the law.
"The FBI audit was a smokescreen to flush out a rat in my organization," Dominic explained, setting his glass down.
"I needed a civilian to stumble upon the leaked information and bring it back to me."
"You used my brother’s debt to force me into your office," Norah realized, the sickening truth washing over her.
"Liam’s debt to the Tarasovs is very real, Norah, and your life is still in very real danger," Dominic said, stepping closer.
He reached out and gently adjusted the collar of her black silk dress.
"The Tarasov syndicate does not believe I would pay four hundred thousand dollars for a random nurse."
"Ivan Tarasov has demanded a sit-down dinner tonight to bless this sudden union."
"If you do not convince him that you are desperately in love with me, he will assume I am making a move on his territory."
"And if he assumes that, he will butcher your brother to send a message."
Norah looked at the dark, silver-templed man who had manipulated her entire existence in a matter of days.
"What do I have to do?" she asked, resigning herself to the nightmare.
"You hold my hand, you smile at his jokes, and you do not speak unless spoken to," Dominic instructed.
That evening, the black town car delivered them to an exclusive, underground restaurant in the heart of the city.
The dining room was empty except for a large circular table surrounded by armed Russian guards.
Ivan Tarasov sat at the head of the table, cutting a piece of rare steak with brutal efficiency.
He looked up as Dominic and Norah approached, his cold blue eyes locking instantly onto Norah's face.
Ivan dropped his knife, the metal clattering loudly against the fine china.
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"You bring a ghost to my table, Dominic?" Ivan growled, his thick accent dripping with sudden malice.
"This is the nurse who pumped my son's chest while he bled to death on a hospital bed last year."
