Chapter 2 - THE SPEED OF SHADOWS
The silence in the suite stretched until it felt like glass about to shatter.
Clare’s survival instincts flared instantly, overriding the shock paralyzing her limbs. Her face turned deathly pale. She took one frantic step backward, her hand blindly reaching behind her for the open door frame.
"Wrong room," Clare stammered, her voice thin, terrified, and breathless. "I'm... I'm sorry. Wrong room."
In her panic, her fingers lost their grip on her housekeeping tablet. The heavy device slipped from her hands, clattering loudly against the hardwood floor before sliding onto the carpet.
Nicholas didn't jump or reach for the gun on the counter. His posture remained disturbingly calm, his dark eyes locked onto her face with an unblinking, analytical focus.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes drifting past her shoulder toward the exposed corridor outside the half-open door.
"Close the door," Nicholas said. His voice was a low, smooth baritone—devoid of anger, yet laced with an absolute, terrifying weight.
Clare didn't obey. The impulse to run took over. She turned her body, taking another fast step back into the hallway.
Before her shoe could make full contact with the corridor runner, Nicholas moved.
He covered the fifteen feet between the marble bathroom and the entryway in three blindingly fast, soundless steps. For a man carrying the legacy of massive bodily trauma, his movements were fluid, predatory, and completely silent.
He reached the threshold just as Clare turned. His broad hand shot out, catching her right wrist in a firm, iron grip. He didn't twist or crush her skin, but the strength behind his fingers was absolute, rendering her movement impossible.
With his other hand, he reached past her shoulder, planted his palm against the heavy walnut door, and shoved it shut.
CLICK.
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The heavy lock engaged with a dull, final thud.
Clare was trapped inside the foyer, pinned between the door and the towering, wet frame of a man who was supposed to be a ghost. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her breath came in short, jagged gasps, her eyes wide with unadulterated fear as she looked up into his face.
