Chapter 4 - THE PRICE OF A MOTHER
Dorian wanted me sent out of Chicago before sunrise.
I refused.
“You’re getting on a plane.”
“No.”
“A secure property in Montana is prepared.”
“No.”
“Alina.”
“Stop using my name as if that ends arguments.”
His hands flattened against the kitchen counter.
“This is not an argument.”
“It became one when you tried deciding for me again.”
His eyes flashed.
“You’re pregnant.”
“I noticed.”
“You are being targeted.”
“And your solution is to send me to another unknown location based on a security system that has already been compromised?”
That stopped him.
Caleb looked down, hiding what might have been agreement.
I continued.
“Someone got into this penthouse. Someone bugged my apartment. Someone accessed information about my pregnancy. Running blindly seems stupid.”
Dorian stared at me.
“You think staying near me is safer?”
“No.”
That hurt him.
“But I think knowing what’s happening is safer than being treated like luggage.”
Silence.
Then Dorian nodded once.
“All right.”
Julian actually looked shocked.
“You’re letting her win?”
Dorian’s eyes remained on me.
“I’m learning.”
Despite everything, my heart twisted.
We spent the next several hours going through Victor Kane’s history.
He was sixty-one.
A lawyer by training.
Financial strategist by reputation.
For decades, he had helped Vincent Cross conceal assets through shell companies, real-estate partnerships and overseas accounts.
After Vincent died, Victor became one of three trustees overseeing the Cross Legacy Fund.
The other two trustees had died.
One of a stroke.
One in a boating accident.
Conveniently.
“That never bothered you?” I asked.
Dorian’s expression darkened.
“It does now.”
The FBI had already been investigating several Cross-related companies.
Dorian had quietly cooperated after discovering Victor had been laundering money through legitimate holdings.
That cooperation explained part of his behavior.
But not all of it.
After Julian left the room, I cornered Dorian in the study.
“You’re still hiding something.”
His shoulders tightened.
“What?”
“You were protecting me from Victor. Fine. But there’s more.”
He looked toward the window.
“Dorian.”
“I made a deal.”
“With Victor?”
“With federal prosecutors.”
My stomach dropped.
“What kind of deal?”
“I provide evidence against the remaining organization. They protect you and eventually clear the legitimate companies.”
“And you?”
Silence.
“What happens to you?”
His gaze finally met mine.
“I might go to prison.”
The words landed like physical blows.
“For what?”
“Financial conspiracy.”
“Did you do it?”
“Some of it.”
My mouth went dry.
There it was.
Not a glamorous crime lord.
Not an untouchable billionaire.
A man who had made choices.
Bad choices.
“Before we married?”
“Some before. Some during.”
I stepped backward.
“You told me the companies were clean.”
“The ones you were involved with were.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
Tears burned behind my eyes.
“So you lied.”
“Yes.”
The simple answer hurt worse.
“How long?”
“For years.”
I turned away.
He didn’t touch me.
Maybe six months earlier he would have.
Now he seemed to understand he had lost that privilege.
“I wanted out,” he said.
I laughed bitterly.
“You wanted out after you got rich.”
“Yes.”
At least he didn’t pretend.
“My father built a machine designed to make everyone inside it guilty. When I inherited it, I told myself I could separate the legitimate side from everything else.”
“And could you?”
“Eventually.”
“But not before using it.”
“No.”
I closed my eyes.
I loved this man.
That was the terrible part.
Love didn’t magically turn his wrong decisions into right ones.
“I don’t know who you are anymore.”
His voice cracked slightly.
“I know.”
A knock interrupted us.
Caleb entered carrying a laptop.
“We traced Victor’s call.”
Dorian turned.
“Where?”
“South Side industrial district. Signal bounced, but we narrowed it to four buildings.”
Julian rushed into the room behind him.
“My mother?”
“Possibly.”
Dorian began issuing instructions.
I listened as teams prepared.
Then I realized what was happening.
“You’re going.”
“Yes.”
“You’re walking into whatever Victor wants.”
“I’m getting Evelyn.”
“Dorian—”
“She raised me.”
That silenced me.
Evelyn Cross wasn’t Dorian’s biological mother.
She married Vincent when Dorian was eight.
From everything I knew, she had been the closest thing he ever had to kindness in childhood.
“I’m going with you,” Julian said.
“No.”
“She’s my mother.”
“And that’s exactly why you’re staying.”
Julian stepped forward.
“You can’t—”
“I can.”
The brothers stared at each other.
I suddenly understood something.
Dorian wasn’t cold because he felt too little.
He was cold because he felt too much and believed control was the only way to survive it.
He left thirty minutes later.
For the first time, I let him kiss my forehead.
Not because I had forgiven him.
Because I was afraid it might be the last chance.
“Come back,” I whispered.
His eyes closed.
“I will.”
Three hours later, the teams entered the first warehouse.
Empty.
Second.
Empty.
Third.
A chair stood in the center.
Ropes on the floor.
Blood on one armrest.
But Evelyn was gone.
On the wall, Victor had left another message.
A date.
APRIL 17.
Dorian returned near dawn.
I was waiting in the kitchen.
“What does it mean?”
He didn’t know.
Julian did.
His face went white when he saw the photograph.
“That was Dad’s birthday.”
Dorian shook his head.
“No. Dad was born in June.”
Julian stared at him.
“I don’t mean Vincent.”
Silence.
Dorian slowly turned.
“What?”
Julian swallowed.
“Mom told me once. Before she married Vincent, she had a baby.”
Dorian frowned.
“She never told me.”
“She was nineteen. The father disappeared. The baby was adopted.”
My skin prickled.
“What happened to the child?”
“She never found him.”
Julian stared at the date again.
“His birthday was April seventeenth.”
Dorian’s expression changed.
“No.”
Julian looked at him.
“What?”
Dorian walked toward the documents we had collected on Victor Kane.
His birth date was listed.
April 17.
Nobody breathed.
Julian whispered, “Victor is her son?”
Dorian stared at the page.
Suddenly Victor’s obsession with the Cross family looked different.
This wasn’t only about money.
It was about a mother who had given him away...
then married into extraordinary wealth and raised another man’s children.
The phone rang again.
This time, Victor didn’t distort his voice.
“Dorian.”
Dorian put it on speaker.
“What do you want?”
“Justice.”
“For what?”
“For spending my life outside the window while my mother raised you in a palace.”
Julian closed his eyes.
Victor continued.
“Your father knew who I was. That was why he hired me.”
Dorian’s jaw tightened.
“And rewarded you with access to his money.”
“He used me.”
“So you became him?”
Victor laughed.
“No. I became better.”
Then his voice changed.
“Bring me the trust documents and sign permanent control to me.”
“And Evelyn?”
“She lives.”
Dorian looked at me.
“And my wife?”
A pause.
Then Victor said quietly, “Your wife was never meant to matter.”
My blood turned cold.
“What does that mean?” Dorian asked.
“She was supposed to leave you.”
Victor sounded almost irritated.
“The brake line was an unfortunate improvisation by someone who misunderstood instructions.”
Julian stood abruptly.
“You’re lying.”
Victor laughed.
“Ask your friend Caleb.”
Every eye in the room shifted.
Caleb went still.
Very still.
Dorian slowly turned toward the man who had guarded him for eleven years.
Caleb’s hand moved toward his jacket.
Dorian saw it.
May you like
So did I.
Then everything happened at once.
