Chapter 2 - The pink briefcase
Nora turned on her heel to walk away, satisfied with her firm instructions to the security team. But as she took a step, the end of Adrian’s oversized silk tie caught beneath her small gold shoe. She stumbled forward, her tiny hands bracing for a fall, but she managed to catch herself before hitting the marble. With exaggerated dignity, she stood up straight, brushed off her cream floral dress, and adjusted the long black tie around her neck, completely unfazed.
For a second, the foyer was dead silent. Then, a deep, rich sound broke the quiet. Adrian Cole laughed. It was not a polite chuckle or a dark, intimidating sound. It was genuine, warm laughter that seemed to physically alter the atmosphere of the room. His broad shoulders relaxed, and the trimmed stubble on his jaw shifted as a rare smile touched his lips. The guards blinked in slow astonishment. Claire froze several steps behind them, her heart pounding against her ribs. She had worked in this estate for three years and had never once heard the feared mafia boss laugh.
Adrian took a slow step forward and crouched down, his expensive polished shoes creaking faintly against the marble. He was now eye-level with the little girl. The massive black tattoos on his hands were visible as he rested his arms on his knees. His soft smile began to fade back into his usual controlled demeanor, but his eyes remained curious and fixed on her. He pointed a large, tattooed finger toward the tiny pink purse clutched in her hand.
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"What’s in your briefcase?" Adrian asked.
His deep voice was gentle and controlled, unexpectedly amused but fully attentive. Nora looked at him, her bright blue eyes blinking slowly in the warm light. She did not see a dangerous cartel leader; she saw a man who was asking about her very important work. She unlatched the plastic buckle of the pink purse and tipped it forward.
