Chapter 6 - Dinner for a Killer
Norah refused to stay behind.
Vincent refused to take her.
They argued until Enzo slammed both hands on the table.
“They asked for Norah because they expect you to protect her. Stop giving them exactly what they expect.”
Norah looked at him.
“What do you suggest?”
“A dinner.”
Vincent frowned.
Enzo explained.
Russo believed Vincent remained physically weak.
Let him believe it.
Invite Russo under the old rules: a neutral meal, no weapons at the table.
Force him into the mansion.
Into Norah’s kitchen.
Into the cameras.
Vincent hated the plan.
Norah loved it.
Russo arrived the following evening.
He was elegant.
Silver-haired.
Smiling.
Nothing about him looked like the man who ordered fingers broken over gambling debts.
“Vincent.”
“Russo.”
Then Russo saw Norah.
Recognition appeared instantly.
“Ah. The miracle cook.”
Norah felt Vincent stiffen.
She smiled politely.
“Soup?”
Russo laughed.
“I’ve heard remarkable things.”
Dinner began.
Norah served both men from the same pot.
She ate first.
Vincent watched Russo.
Russo watched Norah.
“You’ve become important very quickly,” Russo said.
“I make chicken broth.”
“You make a dying man eat. That’s more valuable.”
Vincent’s fork stopped.
Russo smiled.
“Relax. Everyone knows you were ill.”
Norah set down the bread.
“Not everyone knew how ill.”
Russo looked at her.
A mistake.
Tiny.
But real.
Vincent saw it.
“So,” Vincent said, “who told you?”
Russo drank his water.
“People talk.”
“Which people?”
“Dead ones, mostly.”
The lights went out.
Norah didn’t move.
This was planned.
Emergency power activated.
Russo’s chair was empty.
Vincent stood.
A gunshot sounded upstairs.
Then another.
Norah ran toward the security room.
The monitor showed Russo moving through the west corridor.
He wasn’t escaping.
He was going somewhere.
Toward Vincent’s private archive.
Norah followed.
She found the archive door open.
Russo stood inside.
Vincent entered behind her.
Russo smiled.
“You finally brought me where I needed to go.”
Vincent raised his weapon.
Russo lifted a folder.
“Shoot me and you never find Caleb.”
Norah stopped.
Russo tossed the folder toward her.
Inside was a photograph.
Caleb standing beside Enzo.
Taken two years earlier.
Before the gambling debt.
Before the poisoning.
Before Norah had ever worked at the estate.
She looked at Enzo, who had just appeared in the doorway.
“What is this?”
Enzo’s face went pale.
Russo smiled.
“Ask him who recruited your brother.”
Norah turned.
Enzo opened his mouth.
But Vincent’s security alarm began screaming.
The monitor on the wall flashed.
KITCHEN BREACH.
Norah looked at the live feed.
May you like
Someone was standing over Vincent’s next meal.
And this time, the camera showed the person’s face perfectly.
