Chapter 2 - The Debt Behind Her Silence
The following morning, Nora found Dominic waiting outside the staff entrance.
“You're late.”
She checked her phone.
“I'm four minutes early.”
“You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”
“Then apparently I'm six minutes late.”
Dominic stared at her.
Nora stared back.
Finally, he stepped aside.
“Arthur wants breakfast.”
“Then Chef Pascal should make it.”
“He did.”
“And?”
“Arthur wouldn't eat it.”
Nora closed her eyes.
“You're kidding.”
“No.”
“I’m a maid.”
“Today you're a maid who cooks.”
Nora followed him downstairs.
Pascal stood inside the kitchen looking furious.
“You.”
He pointed a wooden spoon at Nora.
“You humiliated me.”
“I cooked spaghetti.”
“You served Mr. Vale.”
“He stole my dinner.”
Arthur entered.
The kitchen immediately became silent.
He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. At somewhere in his late thirties, Arthur should have looked physically imposing.
Instead, six weeks without food had carved shadows beneath his cheekbones.
He looked at Nora.
“Breakfast.”
She sighed.
“What do you normally eat?”
“Nothing.”
“Before that.”
“Eggs. Coffee.”
Nora opened the refrigerator.
Twenty minutes later she placed scrambled eggs, toasted bread, and sliced tomatoes in front of him.
Arthur ate.
Not everything.
But enough.
Pascal looked as if someone had insulted his ancestors.
Arthur stood.
“Nora.”
“Yes?”
“My study.”
Dominic followed.
Nora didn't move.
Arthur looked back.
“Now.”
His study occupied the mansion's western wing.
Arthur sat behind a massive desk.
Nora remained standing.
Arthur placed her phone on the desk.
Her face drained.
“You went through my phone?”
“No. You left it beside my dinner.”
“You had no right.”
“The message was visible.”
Arthur slid it toward her.
“Who is threatening your brother?”
Nora grabbed the phone.
“None of your business.”
Dominic nearly laughed from the doorway.
Arthur looked fascinated.
“Most people answer my questions.”
“Most people probably don't need this job.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense. You fire me, I lose money. You kill me, I stop worrying about money. Either way, I have bigger problems.”
Dominic muttered, “I like her.”
Arthur ignored him.
“How much?”
Nora’s jaw tightened.
“How much does your brother owe?”
“Eighty-six thousand.”
“To whom?”
“Frank Delaney.”
Dominic's expression changed.
Arthur noticed.
“You know him?”
“South Boston operation. Loans, gambling, collections.”
Arthur looked back at Nora.
“Your brother gambles?”
“No.”
“Then why the debt?”
Nora hesitated.
Arthur waited.
Finally she said, “Our father borrowed from Delaney.”
“And?”
“He died.”
“So Delaney transferred the debt.”
“To my brother.”
Arthur's eyes became cold.
“How old?”
“Twenty-one.”
Arthur leaned back.
“And you're paying it?”
“I'm trying.”
“Why?”
“Because he's my brother.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting.”
Arthur studied her for several seconds.
Then he opened a drawer.
He removed a checkbook.
Nora immediately shook her head.
“No.”
Arthur hadn't even written anything.
“You don't know what I'm offering.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I can make eighty-six thousand dollars disappear before lunch.”
“I said no.”
Dominic looked between them.
Arthur asked, “Why?”
“Because men like Frank Delaney never give money without owning something afterward.”
“I’m not Frank Delaney.”
“No.”
Nora met his eyes.
“You’re worse.”
Dominic stopped smiling.
Arthur remained perfectly still.
Nora swallowed.
She had gone too far.
Then Arthur surprised her.
“Probably.”
He closed the checkbook.
“Cook dinner tonight.”
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
Nora reached the doorway.
Arthur spoke again.
“Nora.”
She turned.
“If Delaney contacts you again, tell me.”
“No.”
“That wasn't a request.”
“And this isn't your problem.”
She left.
Dominic waited until the door closed.
“You're going to interfere anyway.”
Arthur looked toward the window.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Arthur considered the question.
He had controlled Chicago through fear for more than a decade.
People asked him for money, protection, influence and favors every day.
Nora had asked for nothing.
“She fed me.”
Dominic smiled.
“That's your explanation?”
Arthur looked at him.
“No.”
“What’s the real one?”
Arthur looked toward the doorway where Nora had disappeared.
May you like
“I don't know yet.”
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