Chapter 2 - The Shadows of Federal HillThe sea bass arrived, untouched by either of us.
Julian Vance had departed after leaving his veiled threat, but the air in Ardith House remained suffocatingly thick. Brennan paid the bill in cash—placing three crisp hundred-dollar bills on the table without looking at the change—and stood up.
Goliath immediately rose with him, his broad shoulders brushing against my hip.
"Come," Brennan said, extending a hand to me.
"I have a bus to catch in twelve minutes," I replied, standing up and pulling my threadbare coat tightly around my shoulders. "And I don't know who you really are, Mr. Brennan. I saved a dog. That doesn't mean I belong in whatever war you're fighting with Julian Vance."
"If you get on that bus, Holly," Brennan said, catching my wrist with a grip that was surprisingly gentle yet unbreakable, "Vance's men will pick you up at the next stop. He recognized you. He knows you were the one who treated Goliath, and he knows Vance's former associate—the man who tried to kill this dog—is now facing federal indictment because of the physical evidence you preserved on that hound's leg."
I froze. "What evidence?"
"The bullet I dug out of his hip," I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. "I saved it in a glass vial. It was in my apartment."
"And my team retrieved it the night I took Goliath," Brennan said. "That bullet matches Julian Vance's personal firearm. You are the chain of custody, Holly. Whether you like it or not, you are the only witness who can tie Rhode Island’s most powerful cartel leader to an attempted execution."
I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "I just wanted to pay my mother's medical bills."
"I know," Brennan said gently. His thumb brushed lightly against the pulse point on my wrist. "And I am going to make sure you pay every last cent of them. But first, you need to step into my car."
We walked out into the pouring rain. A sleek, armored black sedan was idling at the curb, its tinted windows reflecting the yellow streetlights of Federal Hill. A driver in a dark suit opened the rear door the moment we approached. Goliath hopped smoothly into the floorboard, curling up beneath the leather seats as if he had done it a thousand times.
I climbed in after him, shivering as the luxury leather heat warmers activated beneath me. Brennan slid in beside me, pulling the door shut with a heavy, vacuum-sealed thud that cut off the sound of the rain completely.
"Where are we going?" I asked, looking out the window as the sedan pulled away from Ardith House.
"To my estate in Newport," Brennan said, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a thick, leather-bound tablet. He tapped the screen a few times before turning it toward me. "First, look at this."
On the screen was a detailed financial ledger bearing the logo of the Hope Valley Senior Living Facility—the place where my mother had been residing since her devastating stroke.
"Your mother's monthly care cost is six thousand eight hundred dollars," Brennan said evenly. "You owe forty-one thousand in back pay because the insurance company denied her secondary coverage claim six months ago. The board was planning to transfer her to a state-run facility in Providence on Monday."
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, burning with a mixture of shame and anger. "Did you buy her debt too?"
"No," Brennan replied, sliding the tablet away. "I paid it. In full. An hour before I walked into Ardith House."
I turned to face him, my jaw tight. "I didn't ask for your charity, Mr. Brennan. I don't like owing people."
"It isn't charity, Holly. It's a retainer." He looked at me, his sharp features softening just a fraction. "I own three major veterinary research facilities across the Northeast, as well as a private security firm that operates outside the boundaries of local law enforcement. I need a chief medical officer who doesn't panic when blood spills, who doesn't sell out to men like Vance, and who knows how to keep her mouth shut under pressure."
"I didn't finish veterinary school," I reminded him, my voice trembling. "I had to drop out in my final year when my mother got sick."
"You performed a complex emergency orthopedic surgery on a hundred-and-forty-pound mastiff on a bathroom floor with smuggled tools and zero light, and the dog walks without a limp," Brennan said, his voice filled with undeniable conviction. "You are more qualified than half the board-certified surgeons on my payroll. Finish your degree on my dime, work for my estate, and the debt is wiped clean forever."
It sounded like a dream. It sounded like a trap.
"And what happens with Julian Vance?" I asked softly.
May you like
Brennan leaned closer, the scent of expensive cedarwood and rain clinging to his suit jacket.
"Julian Vance built an empire on fear," Brennan whispered. "Tonight at midnight, I am going to take it away from him. And you are going to help me deliver the final blow."
