Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Knew Too Much
Dominic had ordered men killed for less than the message on his phone.
But when he looked at the photograph of his pregnant wife, standing unaware beneath the Chicago afternoon sun, his first instinct was not revenge.
It was terror.
Someone had known about the baby.
Someone had known before he did.
And that person had nearly murdered both of them.
"Marco," he said when his security chief arrived, "I want every camera between Clara's last known location and the crash site."
Marco Bellini was forty-six, broad across the shoulders, with a scar running from his left ear to his jaw. He had worked for Dominic's father before Dominic inherited the organization.
He was one of the few men Dominic trusted without reservation.
Or had trusted.
"Already pulling them," Marco said.
"Who knew she was pregnant?"
"I didn't."
"Find out."
Marco glanced at the photograph.
"Boss, that building belongs to Lombardi Holdings."
Dominic looked up.
Clara's father's company.
The business that had been folded into the Valente empire after their marriage.
"What was she doing there?"
"I don't know."
"Then find someone who does."
Marco left.
Dominic sat outside the operating room and opened Clara's final message again.
I found something about the accounts.
He remembered how little attention he had paid to her work.
Clara handled the estate books, charitable foundations, and family trusts. He had considered it respectable work for a respectable wife.
He had never once asked how much she understood.
Now he wondered whether she had understood everything.
At 9:46 p.m., an older woman appeared at the end of the hallway.
Evelyn Lombardi.
Clara's mother.
She wore a gray wool coat despite the September warmth, and her silver hair was pinned neatly beneath a dark scarf.
Dominic rose.
"Evelyn."
She walked directly toward him.
Then slapped him across the face.
The sound echoed through the corridor.
Neither of Dominic's guards moved.
"Where is my daughter?"
"In surgery."
"Is she alive?"
"Yes."
Evelyn closed her eyes.
For a moment, her entire body seemed to collapse inward.
Then she straightened.
"Did you know about the baby?"
Dominic stared at her.
"You knew?"
"Of course I knew."
"Why didn't she tell me?"
Evelyn's expression hardened.
"She tried."
He said nothing.
"She planned to tell you on your anniversary. Do you remember your anniversary, Dominic?"
He did.
April seventeenth.
He had spent it in Miami with Serena.
He had sent Clara a bracelet.
Evelyn watched recognition move across his face.
"She had a miscarriage two years ago," she said quietly.
Dominic felt something twist inside his chest.
"No."
"Yes."
"She never told me."
"She called you from the emergency room. Your assistant said you were unavailable."
He remembered that week.
A business trip to Las Vegas.
A hotel suite.
Serena laughing in the background.
Evelyn's voice trembled.
"She lost that baby alone."
Dominic sat down.
His mother-in-law looked at him without pity.
"Do you know what she told me afterward?"
He could not speak.
"She said, 'Maybe it's better this way. Dominic doesn't want a family with me.'"
A monitor beeped somewhere beyond the doors.
Dominic pressed his palms against his eyes.
Evelyn sat opposite him.
"I warned her about marrying into your family."
"She knew what I was."
"She knew what your name meant. She didn't know what loneliness would feel like beside you."
He looked up.
"Did she know someone was after her?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"She called me this afternoon."
"What did she say?"
"That she had found evidence of something terrible."
"What evidence?"
"She wouldn't tell me over the phone."
"Did she mention anyone?"
Evelyn looked toward the operating room.
"She said she was afraid of someone in your house."
Dominic's phone rang.
Marco.
"We found the security order," he said.
"Who sent it?"
"The request came from Serena Hayes's private phone."
Dominic stood.
"Say that again."
"She contacted your executive assistant's temporary replacement and claimed you wanted Clara's security detail removed."
"Why would anyone believe her?"
"She used your authorization code."
Dominic went still.
Only three people knew that code.
Dominic.
Marco.
And Clara.
He had given Serena access to his personal office months earlier.
He remembered her sitting at his desk, playing with his phone while he showered.
He remembered telling her the code because she wanted to order something using his account.
He had been careless.
Now Clara was on an operating table.
"Where is Serena?"
"Still in her suite."
Dominic ended the call.
He walked toward Serena's room.
Through the glass, he saw her sitting upright, laughing at something on her phone.
She looked up when he entered.
"Finally."
Dominic shut the door.
"Why did you remove my wife's security?"
Serena's smile disappeared.
"What?"
"Don't lie."
She stared at him.
"Dominic, you're frightening me."
He placed the photograph on her bed.
"Who sent this?"
Serena's eyes flickered toward the image.
Only for a second.
But he saw it.
"I've never seen that before."
"Then why are your fingerprints on the order that left Clara unprotected?"
Her expression changed.
Not to guilt.
To calculation.
"Dominic, listen to me. You don't understand what's happening."
"Then explain it."
Serena looked toward the door.
Then she whispered:
"Your wife wasn't supposed to survive long enough to reach the hospital."
Dominic stopped breathing.
May you like
Serena's eyes filled with tears.
"And if you don't listen to me, neither will you."
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