[COMPLETED] She Walked Into the Fire and Into a Mafia War

Dominic did not sleep.

By dawn, Sadie had been moved to a guarded guest suite in a lakefront property owned through one of his legitimate companies. She had protested every mile of the journey, but after seeing the hole above her kitchen counter, she had stopped using the word ridiculous. Someone had tried to put a bullet through the place where she slept.

Dominic stood in the adjoining study while Carmine spread photographs across a table.

“The shell company is Lark Security,” Carmine said. “We use them for overflow drivers, warehouse watches, temporary event work. They subcontract through three layers.”

“Who approved them?”

“Finance.”

“Whose signature?”

Carmine looked uncomfortable. “Victor’s office.”

Dominic’s eyes lifted.

Victor Castile was his father’s younger brother, sixty-one years old, silver-haired, charming, and patient enough to wait years for an advantage. He ran much of the organization’s legal infrastructure: union relationships, construction permits, accountants, real-estate holdings. He had also held Dominic together after Dominic’s father died.

“That means nothing yet,” Dominic said.

“No.”

“Find the driver.”

“We’re trying.”

A quiet knock interrupted them. Sadie stood in the doorway wearing a borrowed sweater and loose black pants. Fresh white bandages covered both hands.

“I need my phone,” she said.

“It was destroyed in your apartment,” Carmine told her.

“I need to call my manager.”

Dominic stared at her. “Why?”

“So he knows I’m alive.”

“You think he deserves notice after sending you home without pay?”

Sadie’s mouth tightened. “My life is not a management problem you get to solve.”

Carmine looked from one to the other and decided he had urgent business somewhere else.

Dominic waited until the door closed. “You are in danger.”

“I understand that.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“I understand a bullet came through my window. I understand your people are guarding the elevator. I also understand that yesterday I had a bad job, an overdue electric bill, and a landlord who hates me. Today I apparently have a mafia security detail. Forgive me if I’m trying to keep one part of my life recognizable.”

Dominic’s expression hardened at the word mafia.

Sadie noticed.

“So that part bothers you?”

“What people call me is irrelevant.”

“It probably feels irrelevant when you have an office bigger than my apartment.”

He almost replied, but a nurse appeared at the end of the hall and said Rosa Castile wanted to see them.

Rosa occupied a private recovery room on the floor below. Her white hair had been combed back, and oxygen tubing rested beneath her nose. She looked smaller than Sadie remembered from the burning hallway.

When Sadie entered, Rosa’s eyes brightened.

“There she is,” she whispered.

Sadie moved to the bed. “You scared me.”

Rosa reached for her hands, then stopped when she saw the bandages. “I did this to you.”

“No. The fire did.”

“My son told me you vanished.”

“I thought leaving was the simplest option.”

Rosa gave Dominic a sideways glance. “With him, simple options rarely survive.”

Sadie laughed before she could stop herself. Dominic looked offended. Rosa looked pleased.

Then Rosa’s smile faded.

“I remember something,” she said.

Dominic stepped closer.

Rosa closed her eyes. “Before the smoke woke me, I heard voices downstairs. Two men. One said, ‘Make sure the old woman stays in bed.’”

Dominic’s face became stone.

“Did you recognize the voice?”

“No. But the other man said something strange. He said, ‘Victor wants this finished before three.’”

The room went silent.

Sadie looked at Dominic. For the first time, she understood what fear looked like on him. It did not widen his eyes or shake his hands. It stripped every trace of warmth from his face.

Rosa opened her eyes. “I thought I was dreaming.”

Dominic leaned close to the bed. “Mama, why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I had smoke in my lungs and morphine in my blood.”

“Did they say Uncle Victor?”

“No. Only Victor.”

Dominic turned away, already reaching for his phone.

Sadie watched Rosa. The older woman was trembling.

“Wait,” Sadie said.

Dominic stopped.

“If someone wanted her dead, and they know she survived, you need to assume they might try again.”

“I already have security.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Sadie looked toward the IV pump beside the bed. Nursing school had been two years behind her, but the habits remained. She had spent hundreds of clinical hours reading medication labels, checking drip rates, and catching mistakes before instructors could.

The clear bag hanging above Rosa’s bed had a pharmacy label.

The tubing beneath it did not match.

Sadie stepped closer.

“What?” Dominic asked.

She ignored him and traced the line with her eyes. A small injection port near the pump had been punctured more than once. The plastic membrane was slightly cloudy.

“Who changed this bag?”

The nurse frowned. “About twenty minutes ago. Why?”

Sadie’s stomach tightened.

“Disconnect it.”

The nurse stared at her.

“Now.”

Dominic did not ask for an explanation. “Do it.”

The nurse clamped the tubing.

Sadie pointed at the port. “That seal has been accessed. More than once. If the bag is new, it shouldn’t look like that.”

The nurse went pale.

Dominic picked up the call button and pressed it once.

Within seconds, the room filled with security.