Chapter 4 - The Doorway
Raffaele came to the estate that night.
Alone.
At least officially.
Norah had changed into her green housekeeping dress because refusing to work simply because people wanted to kill her felt irritatingly dramatic.
She was carrying fresh towels toward a guest suite when she heard voices.
Arthur.
Raffaele.
Library.
She should have kept walking.
She did not.
The door was slightly open.
Raffaele said:
“You have become sentimental.”
Arthur answered:
“I found Gabriel.”
Silence.
Then:
“So he is alive.”
No surprise.
Norah froze.
Arthur heard it too.
“You knew.”
Raffaele sighed.
“I suspected.”
“You tried to kill him.”
“No.”
“You killed Luca.”
Silence.
That silence was different.
Then Raffaele said:
“Luca was going to destroy everything your father built.”
Arthur’s voice became frighteningly quiet.
“He was twenty-four.”
“He was naïve.”
“He was my brother.”
“He was a liability.”
Norah felt sick.
Arthur said nothing for several seconds.
Then:
“Get out.”
Raffaele laughed.
“This is my family’s house.”
“My house.”
“You think a deed makes you powerful?”
“No.”
“Then what does?”
Another silence.
Arthur answered:
“Saying no before I become you.”
Norah closed her eyes.
Good.
Then Raffaele said something worse.
“The maid will leave eventually.”
Arthur’s chair scraped.
“Don’t talk about her.”
“She will.”
“They all do.”
“You showed her what you are, Arthur.”
“Do you really think she’ll love you once she understands the total?”
The bodies.
The decisions.
The blood.
Norah stepped into the doorway.
Both men turned.
Raffaele smiled.
“There she is.”
Arthur looked furious.
“Norah.”
“I know.”
She looked at Raffaele.
“You’re trying to make me afraid of something I already know.”
His smile faded slightly.
“He told you?”
“Enough.”
“And you stayed.”
“For now.”
Arthur’s eyes moved to her.
For now.
Important.
Norah continued.
“Staying is not the same thing as belonging to someone.”
Raffaele laughed.
“You think my nephew understands that?”
Norah looked at Arthur.
“I’m finding out.”
Raffaele’s smile disappeared.
He walked past her.
Before leaving, he whispered:
“When he disappoints you, remember I offered you enough money to disappear.”
Norah answered:
“When he disappoints me, I’ll leave for free.”
Raffaele stared.
Then walked out.
Arthur stood inside the library.
One hand on the desk.
His knuckles white.
Norah entered.
“You heard everything.”
“Yes.”
“You should have kept walking.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I’m bad at employment.”
He almost smiled.
Then his expression broke.
Not completely.
Enough.
“My father knew.”
Norah nodded.
“Gabriel said so.”
“My brother died because of something my father built.”
“Yes.”
“I spent years defending that man’s rules.”
“Yes.”
“I killed people under those rules.”
Norah’s throat tightened.
“Arthur.”
He looked at her.
“Don’t tell me it wasn’t me.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
That stopped him.
“I made choices.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t undo them.”
“No.”
“What exactly am I supposed to do with that?”
Norah thought.
Then:
“Stop adding new ones.”
He looked at her.
“That’s all?”
“No.”
“But it’s where tomorrow starts.”
He sat.
For the first time, Arthur told her about his father.
Salvatore Costello.
Cold.
Brilliant.
Violent.
Arthur had been taught at thirteen that hesitation killed.
At fourteen, he was taken to his first collection.
At seventeen, he watched his father beat a man for stealing.
At twenty-two, he ordered his own first beating.
At twenty-nine, he inherited the organization.
Every compromise became easier after the first.
Norah listened.
Not as priest.
Not as absolution.
When Arthur finished, she said:
“You need a therapist.”
He stared.
“I just confessed twenty years of organized crime.”
“Yes.”
“And your conclusion is therapy.”
“Among several legal problems.”
He laughed.
Then the laugh collapsed into something quieter.
“You make everything sound ordinary.”
“No.”
Norah stepped closer.
“I make you sound human.”
“That’s different.”
Arthur looked up.
Their faces were closer than either expected.
His eyes dropped briefly toward her mouth.
Norah noticed.
So did he.
Neither moved.
Then Arthur whispered:
“If I kiss you now, I won’t know whether you wanted it or whether you were afraid to say no.”
Norah’s heart hammered.
That was not the sentence she expected from Arthur Costello.
“So don’t.”
He nodded.
Immediately.
No frustration.
No argument.
Norah stepped backward.
“Goodnight.”
She reached the door.
“Norah.”
She turned.
Arthur held her gaze.
“I’m going to destroy my father’s business.”
She frowned.
“You own it.”
“Not for long.”
“What are you going to do?”
He looked toward the city beyond the windows.
“For once?”
May you like
His voice became calm.
“Something that costs me more than everyone else.”
