Chapter 4 - The Man Who Buried the Wrong BrotherDominic had never seen Vincent Rizzo lose control of his hands.
Not when federal agents raided their Brooklyn warehouse.
Not when a rival organization kidnapped his nephew.
Not even when Dominic's father died and left Vincent with fewer shares than he expected.
But now Vincent stood in the doorway, staring at the photograph on the floor as though it had crawled out of a grave.
"Where did you get that?" Dominic asked.
Vincent recovered quickly.
"Private investigation."
"Into my dead brother?"
"Into threats against the company."
Dominic picked up the photograph.
Hannah recognized it immediately.
"That was taken outside the diner."
Vincent looked at her.
"You're Hannah Reed."
She said nothing.
"I remember your employment file."
Dominic studied him.
"You told me you'd never met the child."
"I haven't."
"But you know her mother."
"She's worked in this house for two years."
"Then why are you carrying a photograph of her with Julian?"
Vincent straightened his jacket.
"Because Julian was involved in something dangerous."
"What?"
"People he shouldn't have trusted."
Hannah stood.
"Don't."
Vincent turned.
"Excuse me?"
"Don't talk about him like he was dirty."
His eyes hardened.
"You have no idea what kind of man Julian Caruso was."
"I knew the man who bought groceries for an elderly neighbor when she couldn't leave her apartment. I knew the man who cried when he found out I was pregnant because he'd never believed he'd have a family of his own."
Her voice trembled.
"And I know he was terrified of you."
Dominic watched Vincent's face.
The older man did not deny it.
Instead, he said, "Dominic, send her out."
"No."
"You're allowing a housemaid to interfere with a criminal investigation."
"She's the mother of my niece."
The words changed the room.
Vincent looked at Grace.
Then at Dominic.
"That hasn't been proven."
Dominic stepped closer.
"Careful."
Vincent lowered his voice.
"Julian had enemies. He was careless with women. You're grieving, and I understand why you want this to mean something."
Dominic grabbed the front of Vincent's jacket.
"Say one more word about her."
Rebecca moved between them.
"Enough. Both of you."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Vincent adjusted his tie.
"You'll regret letting emotion guide this."
He collected his briefcase.
At the doorway, he looked back.
"Your father taught us that blood makes a family. Loyalty keeps it alive."
Dominic answered coldly.
"My father also taught me to recognize a liar."
Vincent left.
The moment the door closed, Hannah sat down.
Her hands were shaking.
Rebecca took out her phone.
"I want a forensic copy of that photograph and a complete review of Vincent's access to Julian's estate."
Dominic nodded.
"Quietly."
Rebecca glanced at him.
"Especially quietly."
That afternoon, Dominic moved Hannah and Grace into a guest suite on the third floor.
Hannah resisted.
"I don't need charity."
"Someone tried to enter your apartment."
"I know."
"And someone is watching your daughter."
She looked at Grace.
"Then I need protection, not a palace."
Dominic considered that.
"You're right."
He called his security chief, Marcus Vale, a former Army investigator who had worked for the Carusos for six years.
"Two guards outside the suite. Nobody enters without Hannah's permission. No cameras inside."
Hannah looked surprised.
"You'll respect that?"
"Yes."
"Even if I ask you to leave?"
Dominic paused.
"Yes."
She nodded once.
It was the first sign of trust she had shown him.
That evening, Rebecca returned with news.
The audio recording had been edited.
Not crudely.
Expertly.
The words had been assembled from at least three separate conversations, with room tone added to disguise the cuts.
Dominic felt relief for less than a second.
"Can you prove it?"
"With the original files and an independent forensic examiner, probably."
"Who made it?"
"Someone with access to your private communications."
Vincent.
Dominic did not say the name.
Rebecca didn't need him to.
"There's something else," she continued.
She placed a corporate filing on his desk.
"Julian's twenty-eight percent interest was transferred to the Caruso Family Trust after his death. But the trust agreement contains an unusual provision."
"What provision?"
"If Julian died leaving a biological child, his interest was supposed to pass into a separate trust for that child."
Dominic stared at her.
"Who drafted it?"
"Julian."
"When?"
"Six weeks before the crash."
Dominic looked toward the ceiling.
Grace was upstairs.
Sleeping in a room larger than Hannah's entire apartment.
His brother had known the danger.
He had tried to protect his daughter before she was born.
"How much is the interest worth?"
"At the last independent valuation, approximately four hundred and eighty million dollars."
Dominic exhaled.
"Vincent knew."
"Vincent was one of the trustees."
"And if Grace is proven to be Julian's daughter?"
"The transfer can be challenged. Vincent could lose control of a substantial voting block."
Dominic understood immediately.
This was no longer only about Julian's death.
It was about ownership.
Power.
And a child who had crawled into the wrong office.
At nine that night, Hannah knocked on Dominic's study door.
She held a folded baby blanket.
"I remembered something."
Dominic stood.
"What?"
"Julian gave me this the last time I saw him."
She spread the blanket across the desk.
Along one edge, a narrow line of embroidery formed a pattern of tiny blue stars.
"He told me not to wash it."
Dominic frowned.
"Why?"
"He said the answer was sewn into the part nobody would think to touch."
Rebecca, still seated nearby, leaned forward.
Hannah turned the blanket over.
Inside the hem was a concealed pocket.
She carefully opened it.
A small black memory card fell onto the desk.
Dominic stared.
Rebecca reached for a clean evidence envelope.
Before she could touch the card, every light in the mansion went out.
A second later, Marcus's voice exploded through Dominic's emergency radio.
"Security breach! Three armed men inside the east wing!"
Then came a sound from upstairs.
A woman screaming.
May you like
Hannah was already running.
"GRACE!"
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