Chapter 3 - The Woman Inside the FortressThe bodies were removed before sunrise.
The blood was scrubbed from the marble hallway.
The shattered bedroom door was replaced.
By eight in the morning, Dominic Gallo’s penthouse once again looked like the immaculate home of a billionaire rather than the site of an attempted assassination.
Layla knew better.
She stood near the windows of the temporary guest suite with both arms folded around her abdomen and watched snow settle across Chicago.
Behind her, four armed guards occupied the hallway.
Two more stood beside the private elevator.
Matteo had ordered the entire household staff searched before anyone was allowed to leave.
Dominic had not slept.
Neither had Layla.
He stood several feet away speaking quietly into his phone.
“I want every employee questioned.”
His voice was calm.
That frightened Layla more than shouting would have.
“Maintenance staff. Security contractors. Deliveries. Everyone who entered the building during the last thirty days.”
A pause.
“No exceptions.”
Another pause.
“If someone helped those men enter my home, I want the name before nightfall.”
Dominic disconnected the call.
His knuckles were swollen from the previous evening, and a dark bruise had appeared along the side of his jaw where one of the intruders had struck him during the fight in the hallway.
Layla watched him.
He noticed.
“What?”
“You have been giving orders for seven hours.”
“I have many orders to give.”
“You have also asked the doctor to examine me four times.”
Dominic’s expression did not change.
“You were held at gunpoint.”
“And I am still alive.”
“You could have been killed.”
“But I was not.”
His jaw tightened.
Layla sighed.
During the months she had worked for him, Dominic had always seemed almost mechanical.
He woke at the same hour.
Drank the same black coffee.
Read financial reports at the same desk.
Issued commands with the same cold precision.
She had once believed nothing could frighten him.
Now she understood the truth.
Dominic Gallo was terrified.
He simply transformed fear into control.
The realization did not make his behavior less suffocating.
“Dominic.”
He looked at her.
“I cannot live like this.”
Something dangerous entered his eyes.
“You are not leaving.”
“That is not what I said.”
“It is what you were about to say.”
“No.”
Layla walked toward him.
“My children cannot grow up surrounded by men carrying guns outside every bedroom.”
“They will if carrying guns keeps them alive.”
“And what happens when they are five?”
Dominic said nothing.
“What happens when they are ten?” she continued. “Do you assign bodyguards to their classrooms? Search their birthday guests? Put armored glass around their playground?”
“If necessary.”
Layla stared at him.
“You hear yourself, right?”
“I hear a man who intends to keep his family breathing.”
The word family stopped her.
Dominic appeared to notice.
His expression changed slightly.
He had used the word naturally.
Not my children.
Not my heirs.
Family.
Layla turned toward the window again.
“You cannot protect people by locking them inside a fortress.”
“I can protect them better here than anywhere else.”
“The men last night got inside your fortress.”
That struck him.
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
Layla immediately regretted the cruelty of the statement.
But it was true.
The penthouse had been his symbol of absolute control.
The Moretti attack had proven it vulnerable.
Dominic walked toward the window and stood beside her.
“For seventeen years,” he said quietly, “no enemy reached the private floor of this building.”
Layla looked at him.
He continued watching the city.
“My father purchased this penthouse when I was sixteen. He believed height made him untouchable.”
She had rarely heard Dominic speak about his father.
“What happened to him?”
“He was murdered two years later.”
Layla remained silent.
Dominic’s voice contained no emotion.
“At a restaurant he owned. Someone poisoned his whiskey.”
“That is why you never allow anyone to pour your drinks.”
He looked at her.
Layla remembered thousands of small details from her years working in wealthy homes.
People assumed servants saw nothing.
The opposite was true.
They saw everything.
Dominic gave a humorless smile.
“You noticed.”
“I cleaned your glasses.”
He looked away.
“My mother died when I was nine. My father died when I was eighteen. By nineteen, every man who believed he could seize the Gallo organization was testing me.”
“What did you do?”
Dominic’s expression became empty.
“I survived.”
Layla understood the rest without hearing it.
He had built his entire adult existence around preventing helplessness from ever touching him again.
And now she was carrying two tiny human beings he could not command into safety.
A knock interrupted them.
Matteo entered.
His face was grim.
“We found the breach.”
Dominic immediately became the crime boss again.
“Who?”
“Building security supervisor.”
“Name.”
“Alan Mercer.”
Layla recognized it.
“He has worked here for years.”
“Eleven,” Matteo said.
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“How much?”
“Two hundred fifty thousand dollars transferred through three shell accounts.”
“For opening access doors?”
“More than that.”
Matteo placed a tablet on the table.
“He disabled cameras on the service level, copied elevator credentials and provided the intruders with the schedule of the private security rotation.”
Dominic’s face became terrifyingly still.
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
Matteo hesitated.
“His apartment is empty. Wife and children disappeared yesterday afternoon.”
“He knew the attack was coming.”
“Yes.”
Dominic reached for his jacket.
Layla immediately recognized the movement.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Mercer.”
“No.”
Both men looked at her.
Layla felt ridiculous standing barefoot in an oversized sweater between two armed mafia leaders.
She continued anyway.
“You have people for that.”
Dominic stared.
“Layla—”
“You said the Morettis want you angry.”
Matteo’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Dominic said nothing.
“They attacked your business,” she continued. “You did not give them what they wanted. They attacked me, and now you are about to run into the city personally because you are furious.”
“That man exposed you to assassins.”
“Yes. Which means if the Morettis expect you to chase him, perhaps you should ask why.”
Silence followed.
Matteo looked at Dominic.
“She has a point.”
Dominic gave him a cold glance.
Matteo shrugged.
“I enjoy breathing, so pretend I said nothing.”
Layla almost smiled.
Almost.
Dominic removed his jacket again.
“Mercer is bait.”
“Possibly,” Layla said.
Dominic studied her with renewed attention.
There was something different in his gaze.
Not merely concern.
Respect.
“What do you suggest?”
The question surprised her.
“You are asking me?”
“You are the person who prevented me from walking directly into a potential trap.”
Layla considered.
“If I were Moretti, I would assume your men are searching Mercer’s bank accounts, vehicles and relatives.”
“They are.”
“So do something he will not expect.”
Dominic waited.
Layla thought about the years she had spent being invisible.
“Search the people no one notices.”
Matteo frowned.
“Meaning?”
“Cleaners. Nannies. Building porters. Delivery workers. The people who enter rich homes without being remembered.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
“Mercer had a wife,” Layla said. “If she disappeared with two children, she packed clothing. Medicine. Toys. School things. Someone helped.”
Matteo already had his phone out.
Layla continued.
“Rich criminals watch bank accounts. Ordinary people notice garbage bags.”
Matteo looked almost impressed.
“I will contact the building superintendent.”
“Not directly,” Layla said. “If someone is involved, you will warn them.”
Dominic’s mouth curved faintly.
“What would you do?”
“Send someone who looks harmless.”
Matteo laughed once.
“I am unfortunately disqualified.”
For the first time since the attack, the tension inside the room shifted.
Dominic looked at Layla for several seconds.
“You spent years letting me believe you were invisible.”
“I was invisible to you.”
The smile disappeared.
Pain crossed his expression.
“I know.”
Several hours later, Layla’s instinct produced a result.
Mercer’s family had not driven out of Chicago.
A woman who cleaned apartments in his building remembered seeing his wife give three suitcases to a teenage delivery driver.
The driver remembered being paid cash to take them to a storage facility near Cicero.
Security footage showed Mercer changing vehicles there.
Matteo traced the second vehicle to an abandoned printing warehouse.
Dominic did not go personally.
He sent twelve men.
Two hours later, Mercer was brought into a secure Gallo warehouse alive.
That evening, Dominic entered Layla’s room.
She was sitting on the bed reading.
“He talked.”
Layla closed the book.
“What did he say?”
“The Morettis paid him.”
“That was obvious.”
“There was someone else.”
Dominic’s expression became darker.
“Someone inside this penthouse gave Mercer information he could not have obtained alone.”
Layla felt cold.
“Who?”
“He does not know.”
“Then how do you know?”
“The payment instructions came through an intermediary using information about my private schedule.”
Dominic moved closer.
“Only six people had access.”
“Matteo?”
“I would burn Chicago before believing Matteo betrayed me.”
“Who else?”
“My security chief. My attorney. Two senior lieutenants.”
Dominic paused.
“And Celeste.”
Layla’s heartbeat changed.
Dominic noticed.
“She hated the pregnancy from the moment she saw me.”
“Hate does not prove betrayal.”
“You are defending her?”
“No.”
His voice became lethal.
“I am ensuring that when I accuse someone of selling the mother of my children to my enemy, I am correct.”
Layla lowered her eyes.
She understood.
Dominic did not make accusations.
He delivered sentences.
“Until then,” he continued, “you trust no one.”
“Except you?”
“Yes.”
The answer came instantly.
Layla looked at him.
“You fired me while I was carrying your children.”
Guilt tightened his face.
“I know.”
“You threatened to have your men remove me.”
“I know.”
“You humiliated me.”
“I know.”
His voice lowered.
“I remember every word.”
Something inside her softened despite herself.
“That does not make trust easy.”
“I am not asking for easy.”
Dominic slowly crouched before her.
“I am asking for the opportunity to earn it.”
One of the twins moved.
His gaze immediately dropped.
Layla noticed how quickly violence disappeared from him whenever the babies kicked.
“May I?”
He always asked now.
That mattered.
Layla took his hand and placed it against the side of her abdomen.
A movement pressed beneath his palm.
Dominic inhaled.
“There.”
Layla whispered.
He smiled.
It was small.
Almost uncertain.
She realized she had never truly seen Dominic smile before.
Not the cold expression used at business dinners.
Not the thin curve that appeared when an enemy made a mistake.
This was different.
Human.
“Which one is that?” he asked.
“The doctor says Twin A is lower.”
“Twin A is an unacceptable name.”
Layla laughed softly.
Dominic looked up.
The sound surprised both of them.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You laughed.”
“I know.”
“You have never laughed around me.”
“You were not especially funny when I worked here.”
“I am still not funny.”
“That is true.”
He narrowed his eyes.
Layla smiled.
The room became quiet.
For several seconds, they were not a former maid and a mafia boss.
They were simply two frightened people touching the movement of their unborn child.
Then Dominic’s phone rang.
Matteo.
The softness vanished from his expression.
He answered.
“Speak.”
Layla watched his face change.
“What happened?”
Dominic stood.
“Where?”
Silence.
His jaw hardened.
“I am coming.”
He ended the call.
“Dominic?”
“The warehouse where Mercer was being held was attacked.”
Layla’s blood chilled.
“Is he alive?”
“No.”
She understood immediately.
The Morettis had eliminated the witness.
“What about your men?”
“Three wounded.”
Dominic walked toward the door.
Then Matteo called again.
Dominic answered.
This time he said nothing for several seconds.
“What?”
Layla stood.
Dominic slowly turned toward her.
His expression had become something she could not read.
“Matteo found something on Mercer’s body.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
Dominic crossed the room and handed her the image Matteo had sent.
It showed Layla.
Not recently.
The photograph had been taken four months earlier.
She was standing outside the deteriorating apartment building in Pilsen, carrying grocery bags through the snow.
Someone had been watching her before Dominic ever found her.
On the back of the photograph, Mercer had written a date.
It was the same week Layla had been fired.
Beneath the date were four words.
THE GALLO HEIRS ARE CONFIRMED.
Layla’s hands began to shake.
Dominic caught the phone before it fell.
The truth settled between them with horrifying clarity.
May you like
The Moretti family had known about the twins before Dominic did.
And someone close to Dominic had known enough to tell them.
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