Chapter 4 - The Woman in the Service ElevatorDominic was already moving before the guard finished speaking.
Clara followed.
“Stay here,” he said.
“No.”
He turned so sharply Paula stepped backward.
“Clara.”
“If someone came for me, I’m not hiding behind a conference room door while everyone else decides what I’m allowed to know.”
Dominic stared at her.
Then, with visible effort, he nodded.
“Behind me.”
“Beside you.”
His mouth tightened.
“Fine.”
Miriam sent two hotel guards with them. Nolan tried to follow, but Dominic pointed at him without looking back.
“If he leaves this room, call the police.”
For once, no one argued.
The service corridor behind the ballroom smelled of lemon polish, hot food, and panic. Staff members stood in clusters, whispering. News of what happened had traveled faster than spilled champagne.
At the end of the corridor, the service elevator doors stood open.
Inside was a woman in a navy coat.
She was older than Clara, perhaps late fifties, with careful makeup and trembling hands. She carried a manila envelope against her chest like a shield.
The moment she saw Clara, her eyes filled with tears.
“Mrs. Raines?”
Clara stepped forward.
Dominic’s arm moved slightly in front of her.
The woman looked at him and froze.
“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” she whispered. “Please. I just need to give her this.”
Dominic studied her.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Elaine Porter. I worked for Whitmore Development.”
Clara felt the air leave her lungs.
Elaine held out the envelope.
“I watched what happened upstairs. On a staff monitor. When I saw him try to delete the footage, I knew he was going to bury this too.”
Clara took the envelope before Dominic could stop her.
Inside were copies of emails, invoices, bank transfers, and photographs. One image showed a row of small brick apartment buildings near the lakefront. Clara recognized them from her research.
Another showed Nolan Whitmore standing beside a man Clara did not know.
Dominic did.
His face changed instantly.
“Where did you get this?”
Elaine looked at the floor.
“I was Nolan’s executive assistant for nine years.”
“Why come tonight?”
“Because I signed things I should not have signed,” Elaine said. “Because families are being forced out. Because a man died after refusing to sell his building, and everyone pretended it was an accident.”
Clara gripped the envelope tighter.
Dominic’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“What man?”
“Luis Vega.”
Clara’s eyes widened.
She had interviewed his widow two days earlier.
Mrs. Vega had cried while showing Clara the eviction notices. She had said her husband died of a heart attack after months of pressure.
Elaine shook her head.
“It wasn’t just pressure.”
One of the guards cursed softly.
Clara looked up at Dominic.
The man he used to be had returned to his eyes.
Not because he wanted violence.
Because he understood violence.
Elaine whispered, “Nolan didn’t do it himself. But he paid people who knew how to scare tenants. One of them went too far.”
Dominic took the photograph from Clara’s hand.
The unknown man beside Nolan had a scar across his jaw.
Dominic knew that scar.
“Luca Bell,” he said.
Clara felt cold.
She had heard the name only once before, years ago, when Dominic had come home with blood on his cuff and refused to explain.
Dominic looked at Elaine.
“Where is Luca now?”
“I don’t know. But Nolan called him tonight.”
The corridor fell silent.
Then Dominic’s phone buzzed.
A message appeared from Jonah.
FOOTAGE COPIED. DELETION CAME FROM WHITMORE DEVICE. ALSO FOUND SECOND ACCESS ATTEMPT FROM HOTEL ADMIN TERMINAL.
Dominic showed Clara.
Her stomach turned.
“Someone inside the hotel?”
The service elevator dinged behind them.
The doors began to close.
Inside the elevator mirror, Clara saw movement at the far end of the corridor.
A man in a black catering uniform was walking toward them.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
Dominic saw him too.
“Clara,” he said.
This time, she did not argue.
The man reached into his jacket.
Dominic moved Clara behind him.
The guards shouted.
The staff screamed.
But the man did not pull out a weapon.
He pulled out a phone.
And on the screen was a live video of Mrs. Vega sitting alone in her apartment.
May you like
The man smiled.
“Nolan says the gala is over.”
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