Chapter 3 - The Man Inside the Empire
Norah met Detective Price in a bakery near Columbus Circle.
She almost did not go.
For three years, she had lived beside Nico’s world without asking questions she did not want answered. She knew enough to understand that his legitimate holdings were only one layer of an empire built on fear, loyalty, and secrets.
She also knew law enforcement had tried to use people around Nico before.
“What makes you think I know anything?” she asked.
Price stirred his coffee.
“You lived with him.”
“That doesn’t mean I knew his business.”
“I believe you.”
That surprised her.
Price was in his forties, tired-eyed, careful.
“We’re not asking you to testify.”
“Then why am I here?”
“Because we intercepted communication about a planned internal move. Someone close to Moretti believes his judgment is compromised.”
Norah’s stomach tightened.
“Because I left?”
Price’s silence answered.
She stared at him.
“That’s insane.”
“In organizations built around strength, visible emotion can become opportunity.”
Norah thought of Nico replaying the security footage.
Had he been careless?
Had someone seen?
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
“Arthur?”
Price shook his head.
“We don’t think so.”
Relief came too quickly.
She hated herself for it.
Price continued.
“The plan appears to involve a meeting Sunday night. A warehouse in Red Hook.”
Norah stood.
“I can’t help you.”
“Ms. Hart.”
“I left him.”
“That doesn’t mean you want him dead.”
She froze.
Price leaned back.
“I’m not asking you to return to him. I’m asking whether you’ve seen anything unusual. New faces. Arguments. Someone pushing him toward certain meetings.”
Norah thought.
In the final two months before she left, one man had begun appearing more often.
Victor Serrano.
He controlled waterfront logistics and had known Nico since they were young.
Norah disliked him immediately.
He smiled too long.
Asked too many questions.
Once, he had cornered her in the penthouse kitchen and said, “You’re the one weakness nobody can calculate.”
At the time, she thought it was a compliment.
Now she wasn’t sure.
“Victor Serrano,” she said.
Price’s pen stopped.
“What about him?”
Norah told him.
Price listened carefully.
When she finished, he closed the notebook.
“Stay away from Moretti.”
“You just told me someone’s going to kill him.”
“And if Serrano thinks you matter to Nico, you’re leverage.”
Norah’s face went cold.
“I don’t matter to him.”
Price looked at her for a long moment.
“You really believe that?”
She did not answer.
At six that evening, Nico was in the Moretti Foundation offices reviewing financial transfers when Arthur entered.
“Victor wants Sunday moved to Red Hook.”
Nico looked up.
“Why?”
“Claims the Tribeca location is compromised.”
Nico’s instincts sharpened.
“Compromised by whom?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Then no.”
Arthur nodded.
“I agree.”
Nico returned to the papers.
Arthur did not leave.
“What?”
“We have another problem.”
Nico’s eyes lifted.
“Norah’s project.”
The room went still.
“What about it?”
“Someone accessed the storage facility records this morning.”
Nico stood.
“Who?”
“We’re tracing it.”
“You told anyone about the unit?”
“No.”
Nico’s voice hardened.
“Move everything.”
Arthur’s expression changed.
“You said you were giving her space.”
“I am. I’m protecting her work.”
“Without telling her?”
Nico cursed.
Arthur crossed his arms.
“That project is hers.”
“I know.”
“Then you don’t get to decide where it lives.”
Nico walked to the window.
Below, Manhattan glittered.
“I don’t care if she hates me. I’m not letting my enemies use something she built.”
Arthur sighed.
“Then call her.”
Nico turned.
“She disconnected her phone.”
“She has a new one.”
Nico stared.
Arthur held his gaze.
“You told me to stop looking. I did. But the number came through a foundation contact because she submitted an inquiry about a grant.”
Nico’s pulse shifted.
Hart House.
She was moving forward.
Without him.
“Give it to me.”
Arthur hesitated.
Then handed him a slip of paper.
Nico stared at the number for several seconds.
He dialed.
Norah was washing dishes in Evelyn’s kitchen when the prepaid phone rang.
Unknown number.
She almost ignored it.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Her hand tightened around the phone.
“Nico?”
His breath changed.
“Norah.”
Hearing his voice nearly broke every wall she had built.
She closed her eyes.
“How did you get this number?”
“Arthur.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“You contacted the Moretti Foundation about a grant.”
Her eyes opened.
“What?”
“I didn’t know until today.”
Norah felt heat rise.
“You found my project.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Storage records.”
“You had me searched.”
“I was trying to find you.”
“That’s searching me.”
He accepted the hit.
“Yes.”
Norah gripped the counter.
“I asked the foundation for public grant requirements. I didn’t know your office controlled that program.”
“I know.”
“Are you calling to offer money?”
“No.”
“Good.”
A pause.
“Someone accessed the storage facility records.”
Norah went still.
“When?”
“This morning.”
Detective Price’s warning flashed through her mind.
Nico heard the silence.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“Norah.”
She hated the way he still knew her pauses.
“I spoke to a detective.”
The other end went dangerously quiet.
“Who?”
“Samuel Price.”
Nico swore.
“He says someone inside your organization plans to kill you Sunday.”
“Where?”
“He said Red Hook.”
Nico’s expression changed instantly.
“Victor.”
Norah swallowed.
“I mentioned him.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me once I was your weakness.”
Nico closed his eyes.
He remembered.
Victor had laughed about it afterward.
Nico had dismissed it.
Now rage burned through him.
“Listen to me carefully. You need to leave wherever you’re staying.”
“No.”
“Norah—”
“You do not get to order me around.”
“This isn’t about us.”
“It is always about us with you. You decide. You move pieces. You call it protection.”
Nico forced his voice lower.
“Then I’m asking.”
She went silent.
He continued.
“Please leave where you’re staying. Go somewhere Victor cannot connect to you.”
Norah looked toward the living room where Evelyn was reading.
“I’m not abandoning Evelyn.”
“Then take her.”
“Nico—”
“Norah, I know I lost the right to tell you how to live. I know that. But if Victor thinks you matter to me, he may use you.”
Her throat tightened.
“You told Arthur I didn’t.”
Pain crossed Nico’s face.
“I lied.”
The simplicity of it stopped her.
“I lied because admitting it felt dangerous.”
“To whom?”
“Myself.”
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Norah said, “Detective Price wants me to stay away from you.”
“He’s right.”
Her heart twisted.
“Are you going Sunday?”
“No.”
She did not believe him.
“Nico.”
“I’m not going.”
She knew that tone.
It was the same voice he used when hiding blood beneath a dark shirt.
“You’re lying.”
“Norah—”
“You are.”
Silence.
She whispered, “You’re going to use the meeting.”
“To end it.”
“You could be killed.”
“Yes.”
The answer was too calm.
Anger surged through her.
“You arrogant bastard.”
A sound escaped him that was almost a laugh.
She hated that she remembered it.
“You think you can walk into a trap because you always survive.”
“I have survived.”
“That is not the same thing as being immortal.”
He said nothing.
Norah closed her eyes.
“I left because I couldn’t keep waiting for the night you didn’t come home.”
Nico’s breath caught.
It was the first time she had said it.
“For three years,” she continued, “every car outside at two in the morning made me think someone was bringing me your body. And you never understood what that did to me.”
“I understand now.”
“No. You understand because I’m gone.”
Nico leaned against his desk.
“You’re right.”
The agreement stole her next argument.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he said. “I’m asking you to stay alive.”
Norah looked toward the rain beginning outside the window.
“So are you.”
He did not promise.
That terrified her most.
After they hung up, Nico called Arthur.
“Cancel Sunday.”
Arthur paused.
“You sure?”
“No.”
Nico looked at the skyline.
“But she asked me to stay alive.”
Arthur understood.
For the first time since Norah left, Nico chose something because she needed it rather than because he did.
But neither of them knew Victor Serrano had already moved the trap.
May you like
Sunday no longer mattered.
At 9:18 that night, a black SUV stopped outside Evelyn Hart’s building.
