Chapter 1 - The Midnight Pulse
Hannah kept her fingers pressed lightly against the older woman's wrist.
She ignored Eleanor's sharp question and focused entirely on the erratic rhythm beating beneath the fragile skin.
"Your pulse is elevated, Mrs. Moretti," Hannah said quietly.
"You took your medication two hours late today, didn't you?"
Eleanor pulled her hand away with a huff of annoyance.
"I am perfectly capable of managing my own schedule," the matriarch insisted.
"Yes, but you forget things when your son brings that viper of a fiancée into the house," Hannah replied smoothly.
Eleanor let out a surprisingly genuine laugh.
"Vanessa is a necessary evil for the business, my dear."
"But she is completely useless in an emergency."
Eleanor looked down at the fresh, white bandages wrapped tightly around Hannah's arm.
"Why did you take the glass from her tonight, Hannah?"
"I already told Mr. Moretti the rim was dirty."
Eleanor leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with a sharp, calculating intelligence.
"Do not lie to me, girl."
"I saw you smell the wine before you dumped it into the potted fern."
Hannah froze, realizing the older woman was far more observant than she let on.
Before Hannah could formulate another lie, a deep, authoritative voice echoed through the quiet conservatory.
"I would also like to know why you smelled the wine," Dominic said, stepping out from the shadows.
He had been standing there long enough to hear the entire exchange.
Hannah stood up instantly, smoothing the front of her torn uniform.
"It was nothing, sir."
Dominic walked closer, his dark eyes fixed entirely on her face.
"You lied to me in the hallway."
"You did not take the glass because it was dirty."
"You took it because you knew exactly what was inside it."
Dominic stopped just inches away from her.
"What was in the glass, Hannah?"
Hannah looked at Eleanor, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod of permission.
"It was laced with digitoxin, sir," Hannah whispered, the truth finally breaking through her silence.
"A lethal dose meant to trigger a massive, untraceable heart attack in someone with a pre-existing condition."
Dominic stared at her, his blood running completely cold.
Someone had tried to assassinate his mother right in front of him.
"And how exactly does a maid recognize a rare, lethal cardiac toxin just by smell?" Dominic demanded softly.
Hannah swallowed hard, looking down at her scuffed black work shoes.
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"Because I am not a maid, Mr. Moretti," Hannah confessed, her voice trembling slightly.
"I am a disgraced cardiothoracic surgeon, and I owe a two-million-dollar debt to the man who hired your fiancée to kill your mother."
