Chapter 8 - THE BROTHER WHO NEVER DIED
Dominic Vale had spent thirty-eight years believing he was an only child.
Now a stranger claiming to be his brother was threatening his unborn daughter.
He stood in his office, staring at the disconnected phone.
Owen watched him carefully.
"Was it Nathaniel?"
Dominic nodded.
"What did he say?"
Dominic looked up.
"He wants Claire's baby."
Owen went pale.
"Why?"
"That's what we're going to find out."
The following morning, Detective Whitcomb met with Dominic, Claire, Rebecca, and Evelyn Cross.
Evelyn brought a folder containing medical records from the original Northbridge program.
She placed them on the table.
"Richard Vale's first son was born with a severe inherited immune disorder," she explained.
"Nathaniel required repeated treatment throughout childhood. Richard became convinced that experimental genetic research could produce a cure."
Dominic frowned.
"What does Claire have to do with that?"
"Claire carries a rare genetic variation associated with a potentially useful immune response."
Claire rested both hands over her stomach.
"And my daughter?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"According to the records Keller kept, the fetus inherited that variation."
Claire stared.
"So they want to experiment on my baby?"
"That's what Vincent's documents suggest. But the science is nowhere near as certain as he claims."
Dominic leaned forward.
"Could the baby actually cure Nathaniel?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"Not in the way they're suggesting. A genetic marker isn't a miracle treatment. Any legitimate medical research would require independent review, informed consent, and extensive testing."
Claire looked at her.
"Then why are they doing this?"
Evelyn's expression darkened.
"Because desperate people can be persuaded to believe impossible things."
Rebecca spoke.
"And because someone may be making money from that belief."
Evelyn nodded.
"Richard's program attracted investors. Wealthy families with seriously ill children. People willing to pay enormous sums for experimental treatments."
Dominic looked down.
"My father sold them hope."
"Yes," Evelyn said. "And Vincent appears to have continued after Richard died."
Whitcomb opened another folder.
"We've identified several offshore transfers connected to Northbridge's former investors."
She slid a document toward Dominic.
"Over eighteen million dollars moved through accounts controlled by Mercer Industrial Logistics."
Dominic stared.
"Vincent stole from the organization."
Whitcomb looked at him.
"That's one possibility. Another is that he was operating an illegal medical financing scheme using your companies as cover."
Dominic said nothing.
He knew what that meant.
His own businesses could be implicated.
His employees could lose their jobs.
And the criminal activity he had spent years refusing to examine might finally destroy everything.
Claire watched his face.
"Dominic?"
He looked up.
"What?"
"Don't make this about your money."
He stared at her.
She continued.
"Our daughter isn't an asset. She's not a solution to somebody else's illness. She's a child."
Dominic nodded.
"You're right."
Then he turned toward Whitcomb.
"I'll give you access to the company records."
Whitcomb looked surprised.
"All of them?"
"Everything."
Rebecca studied him.
"Dominic, you understand what that could expose?"
"Yes."
"You could face criminal charges."
"I know."
Claire looked at him.
He didn't seem heroic.
He seemed frightened.
But he was finally doing something that might cost him.
Something real.
That afternoon, investigators located Nathaniel's medical facility.
It was a private rehabilitation center outside Geneva.
Swiss authorities confirmed that a patient using the name Nathaniel Vale had received treatment there.
But he had checked out three days earlier.
His destination was listed as New York.
Dominic read the report twice.
"He's here?"
Whitcomb nodded.
"Possibly."
"Then Vincent brought him back."
"We're investigating."
Dominic looked toward Claire.
She was sitting beside Evelyn, studying old photographs.
For the first time, she had someone who could answer questions about the beginning of her life.
Dominic didn't want to take that away.
But he also knew Nathaniel had made a direct threat.
"We need to move Claire," he said.
Claire looked up.
"No."
"He's in New York."
"Then the police can protect me."
"Claire—"
"I'm not spending the rest of my pregnancy running from men who think they own me."
Dominic stopped.
She stood.
"I spent five months hiding under your coats because I was terrified. I'm not doing that anymore."
He looked at her.
Then nodded.
"Okay."
That evening, Claire asked Evelyn a question she had been avoiding.
"Did Richard Vale know I existed before I was born?"
Evelyn nodded.
"Yes."
"Why was he interested in me?"
"Because my own genetic profile had been entered into the research program. Richard knew any biological child of mine might inherit the same marker."
Claire swallowed.
"Did he arrange my birth?"
"No."
Evelyn's answer was immediate.
"You were my daughter. I wanted you. I loved you before you were born."
Claire's eyes filled.
"Then why did he take me?"
Evelyn looked away.
"Because I refused to let him test you."
Claire stared.
"That was enough?"
"To Richard, it was."
Evelyn reached into her bag.
"I brought something."
She removed a tiny gold bracelet.
An infant's bracelet.
Engraved with the name Claire.
"I kept this for twenty-eight years."
Claire took it carefully.
Her hands trembled.
For the first time, she allowed herself to imagine a different childhood.
One in which nobody had stolen her.
One in which her mother had held her.
One in which her parents hadn't died because powerful men considered other people disposable.
Then Evelyn said something unexpected.
"There's another thing you should know."
Claire looked up.
"Richard didn't personally order your removal from the hospital."
"Who did?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"His wife."
Claire frowned.
"Eleanor Vale?"
Evelyn nodded.
"She signed the transfer authorization."
Claire stared at her.
"But Eleanor died before Dominic was born."
"That's what everyone believes."
A cold silence filled the room.
Evelyn continued.
"Eleanor was alive when I last saw her. She told me she was leaving Richard and taking Nathaniel with her."
"When?"
"Twenty-seven years ago."
Claire felt her pulse quicken.
"Did she?"
"I don't know."
At that exact moment, Dominic received a message from an unknown number.
A photograph.
It showed an elderly woman sitting beside a hospital bed.
Her hair was silver.
Her face was thin.
But her eyes were unmistakably familiar.
Dominic had seen those eyes in the only photograph he possessed of his mother.
The message beneath the image read:
YOU'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THE WRONG PARENT.
Dominic called the number.
A woman answered.
"Dominic?"
His voice caught.
"Who is this?"
The woman began crying.
"My son."
Dominic gripped the edge of his desk.
"Mom?"
A long silence.
Then the woman whispered:
"Don't trust Nathaniel. He isn't the one who wants your daughter."
Before Dominic could respond, a man's voice spoke in the background.
"That's enough, Mother."
The call ended.
May you like
Dominic stared at his phone.
The voice belonged to Vincent Mercer.
