Chapter 2 - The Secret Ledger
The words hung in the sterile air of Suite A like a detonating charge.
Michael—my timid, stuttering younger brother who couldn't even watch a horror movie without getting nightmares—had stolen from the Russo syndicate? And worse, he had been buying information about the fatal SUV ambush that killed Camille Russo?
“No,” I whispered, clutching baby Leo a fraction tighter against my chest. “That’s impossible. Michael doesn't even know what a syndicate is. He’s a junior archivist at the city records office. He gets flustered if his coffee order is wrong!”
Daniel stepped closer, his dark eyes searching my face for any sign of deception. The threat in his posture was palpable, yet he kept his voice low so as not to wake his son.
“My men tracked the missing digital currency straight to an encrypted offshore wallet,” Daniel said coldly, sliding his phone back into his coat pocket. “The decryption key was routed through an IP address registered to your brother’s apartment building. Fifty grand vanished the exact night Camille was killed. Coincidence? I don't believe in coincidences, Nurse Jenkins.”
“He was set up,” I insisted, my voice trembling with rising panic. “You don't know Michael. Someone must have used his network, or framed him! If he has your money, why is he still living in a cramped studio apartment with flickering lights? Why is he still drowning in gambling debts?”
Daniel didn't answer immediately. He carefully reached out, his large, calloused hand hovering just above Leo’s head before gently brushing a tuft of dark hair. The fact that he trusted me enough to hold his son while interrogating me showed how desperate he truly was.
“If your brother has answers about who killed my wife,” Daniel said softly, a dangerous edge returning to his tone, “then he’s either the most dangerous player in this city, or a dead man walking. And right now, you’re the only thing standing between him and a shallow grave in Lake Michigan.”
“What do you want from me?” I asked, my chin lifting defiantly despite my shaking knees.
“You’re going to help me find out the truth,” Daniel commanded. “You stay on this floor, you care for Leo, and when your shift ends tonight, you and I are going to pay Michael a visit.”
I swallowed hard, realizing I had no choice.
By sunrise, the transition was set. I spent the remainder of the night monitoring Leo as his vitals finally stabilized into a healthy, consistent rhythm. For the first time in two weeks, the infant slept for four uninterrupted hours.
When morning light filtered through the reinforced hospital windows, Daniel was still there, sitting in the corner armchair like a dark guardian statue.
“Shift’s over, Rachel,” Daniel said, standing up and rolling his stiff shoulders. “Let’s go.”
We rode down the private elevator to the underground parking garage in absolute silence. Daniel’s black armored SUV waited by the exit, surrounded by three other vehicles filled with suited enforcers. I climbed into the back seat, my hands clasped tightly in my lap.
Twenty minutes later, the convoy pulled up outside Michael’s run-down apartment building on the west side. The front door hung loosely off its hinges, and police tape fluttered in the morning breeze.
My heart stopped.
I bolted out of the car before Daniel could open the door, sprinting up the concrete stairs to the third floor. Apartment 3B was wide open. The wooden door had been splintered straight off its deadbolt.
I rushed inside, screaming my brother’s name.
The apartment was completely trashed. Books were ripped apart, drawers pulled out, and electronics smashed. But there was no blood. No body.
Just a single piece of paper pinned to the center of the bare mattress with a silver hunting knife.
I froze in the doorway, unable to breathe.
Daniel walked in behind me, his eyes scanning the devastation in a fraction of a second. He stepped past me, pulled the knife from the mattress, and grabbed the note.
His face went completely pale.
May you like
“What does it say?” I choked out, tears stinging my eyes.
Daniel looked down at me, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might shatter. “It says if you want to see your brother alive, the nurse and the boss bring the ledger to the old slaughterhouse by midnight. Alone.”
