Fay did not sleep that night.
The storm battered the windows of her apartment while Dominic’s words repeated in her head.
Whoever put me in this chair is probably still inside this house.
By morning, she had almost convinced herself she should quit.
Almost.
Then she looked at the paid rent receipt on her kitchen counter.
She looked at the groceries in her refrigerator.
She remembered Dominic standing between the parallel bars.
And at six the next morning, she drove back to the estate.
Dominic was furious when he realized she had overheard.
“You were listening outside my office.”
“I was carrying laundry.”
“You should have kept walking.”
“You said somebody in this house tried to kill you.”
“I didn’t say kill.”
Fay folded her arms.
“What were they trying to do, improve your parking?”
Dominic looked toward Carmine.
Carmine shrugged.
“She has a point.”
“Get out, Carmine.”
Carmine left.
Dominic turned back to Fay.
“You forget what kind of house this is.”
“No. I’m starting to understand.”
“That should make you afraid.”
“It does.”
That surprised him.
Fay stepped closer.
“I’m afraid every time I drive through those gates now. But being afraid doesn’t mean I stop thinking.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t get involved.”
“I already am.”
“No, you clean my rooms.”
“And bring your food. And help with therapy. And spend half my day ten feet away from you.”
She lowered her voice.
“If someone wants to hurt you, what happens if I’m standing there?”
Dominic had no immediate answer.
That frightened Fay more than anything.
Finally he said, “Carmine will drive you home from now on.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“I have a car.”
“You have a metal box held together by rust and optimism.”
“It runs.”
“Barely.”
“Dominic—”
“Carmine drives you.”
His tone ended the argument.
Fay hated that tone.
She hated even more that part of her was relieved.
The investigation quietly expanded.
Only Dominic, Carmine, and two trusted men knew the brake line had been deliberately cut.
At least, that was what Dominic believed.
Fay tried to stay out of it.
Then she noticed the medication.
Every night, Mrs. Gable prepared Dominic’s pills in a small organizer.
One Tuesday afternoon, Fay knocked the organizer off the bedside table while cleaning.
The pills scattered.
As she gathered them, she noticed two white tablets looked different.
She had seen Dominic’s medication enough times to recognize them.
“Mrs. Gable?”
The estate manager entered.
“What happened?”
“I knocked these over.”
Mrs. Gable sighed.
“Put them back.”
Fay held up one tablet.
“This isn’t the same as yesterday.”
Mrs. Gable frowned.
“What?”
“These two.”
She examined them.
Her face changed.
“Don’t give him anything.”
Within ten minutes, Dominic’s physician was on the phone.
Within thirty, Carmine had locked the third floor.
The tablets were not part of Dominic’s prescription.
They were muscle relaxants at a dosage that, combined with his other medication, could have caused severe complications.
Dominic sat in his office while Carmine paced.
Fay stood near the door.
“Who prepares them?” Dominic asked.
“Mrs. Gable,” Carmine said.
Fay immediately shook her head.
“No.”
Both men looked at her.
“What?” Dominic asked.
“She didn’t do it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She looked scared.”
“People can fake fear.”
“Not like that.”
Dominic’s expression became unreadable.
“You’ve known her for a month.”
“And you’ve known her how long?”
“Twenty years.”
“Then why are you considering it?”
That hit harder than Fay intended.
Dominic looked away.
Because suspicion was what his world had taught him.
Trust was a luxury.
After the accident, it had become almost impossible.
Mrs. Gable was questioned anyway.
She cried for the first time anyone could remember.
The security footage showed her preparing the medication correctly.
But there was a seventeen-minute gap in the hallway camera later that evening.
Someone had disabled it.
The same seventeen minutes during which the pills must have been changed.
Fay felt increasingly watched after that.
Doors seemed to close when she approached.
Conversations stopped.
One afternoon, she found the contents of her purse spread across the staff bathroom counter.
Nothing was missing.
That made it worse.
She told Dominic.
His reaction was immediate.
“You’re moving into the estate.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Fay.”
“I have an apartment.”
“An apartment with a broken lobby lock.”
Her eyes widened.
“How do you know that?”
“I sent someone.”
“You sent someone to my home?”
“To check security.”
“That is incredibly creepy.”
“That is incredibly necessary.”
“You can’t control every part of my life because someone is trying to hurt you.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“This isn’t about controlling you.”
“Then what is it?”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“Keeping you alive.”
The room became very quiet.
Fay swallowed.
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough.”
Something moved between them.
Something neither was ready to name.
Fay looked away first.
“I’m not moving in permanently.”
“Temporary.”
“One week.”
“Until I find the person responsible.”
“One week.”
“Fine.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yes.”
Despite herself, she smiled.
That night, Fay moved into a guest room on the second floor.
It was larger than her entire apartment.
She felt ridiculous sleeping beneath a chandelier.
At 2:13 a.m., she woke to a sound.
Glass breaking.
Fay sat upright.
Another noise came from upstairs.
Dominic.
She threw on a robe and ran.
His bedroom door was open.
Dominic was on the floor.
His wheelchair had tipped sideways.
A broken glass glittered nearby.
“Dominic!”
She rushed to him.
“Don’t move me,” he snapped.
“What happened?”
“I tried to transfer.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a grown man.”
“You’re a grown idiot.”
His face twisted with pain.
Fay checked his position as Dr. Hayes had taught her.
“Did you hit your head?”
“No.”
“Back?”
“No.”
“Hip?”
“I can’t exactly give you a reliable Yelp review of my legs.”
“Not funny.”
“It was a little funny.”
Fay reached for the bedside phone.
“I’m calling Carmine.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Fay.”
“You’re on the floor.”
His voice dropped.
“Just give me a minute.”
She stopped.
The anger disappeared from his face.
What remained was humiliation.
“I used to get out of bed without thinking,” he whispered.
Fay sat on the floor beside him.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re right.”
Dominic stared at the ceiling.
“I used to walk into rooms and people moved.”
“People still move.”
“Because they’re afraid.”
“They were probably afraid before.”
That earned a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.
Fay sat beside him.
“You don’t have to prove anything at two in the morning.”
“I need to know I can do something without help.”
“You can.”
“I’m lying on the floor.”
“So tonight wasn’t that night.”
Dominic turned his head toward her.
Fay’s hair was loose around her shoulders. She wore an oversized T-shirt beneath the robe. There was nothing polished or careful about her.
She was simply there.
“Why did you stay?” he asked.
“The job pays well.”
“Stop.”
Fay knew what he meant.
Why had she stayed after learning who he was?
After the yelling?
After the threats?
After discovering someone wanted him dead?
She looked at him.
“Because I think everybody else saw the wheelchair and decided you were broken.”
Dominic’s eyes hardened slightly.
“And you don’t?”
“I think you’re angry, stubborn, rude, controlling, and occasionally unbearable.”
“Very touching.”
“But broken?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
Something in Dominic’s face softened.
Fay became suddenly aware of how close they were.
His hand rested inches from hers.
Neither moved.
Then footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Carmine appeared.
He looked at Dominic.
Then Fay.
Then the overturned wheelchair.
“I’m not even asking.”
“Good,” Dominic muttered.
After Carmine helped him safely back into bed, Fay returned downstairs.
But halfway to her room, she noticed something on the floor.
A small black object beneath the hallway table.
She bent down.
A wireless camera.
Tiny.
Hidden.
Pointed toward Dominic’s staircase.
Fay’s heart began pounding.
She carried it upstairs.
Dominic stared at it.
Carmine’s face went pale.
“That’s not ours.”
Dominic looked toward the open bedroom door.
Someone had been watching.
Not merely his schedule.
Not merely his medication.
Everything.
Then Carmine’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed immediately.
“What?”
Dominic straightened.
Carmine slowly lowered the phone.
“The security team found another one.”
“Where?”
Carmine looked at Fay.
“In her guest room.”
Fay stopped breathing.
Dominic’s expression turned colder than she had ever seen it.
The person hunting him had not merely noticed Fay.
They had chosen her as the next target.