Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
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Dominic read the message twice.
Then he called his head of security.
“Lock down every entrance. Nobody enters this house without my permission. Nobody leaves without being searched.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Trace that number.”
“We're on it.”
Dominic glanced at Emma. She had fallen asleep against Sophie's shoulder, exhausted by the fear she'd carried for months.
“Take her to the guest suite,” he told Sophie. “Stay with her. If she wakes up, tell her I'm nearby.”
Sophie hesitated.
“Sir, are you going after Mrs. Sterling?”
“Not yet.”
He looked at the photograph again.
The angle suggested it had been taken from the hallway outside Emma's bedroom.
Someone had been inside his home.
Someone knew exactly where his daughter slept.
And someone was terrified of what the little bear had captured.
Dominic entered the living room. Vanessa was seated on the sofa, flanked by two guards. Her eyes were red, but her posture had returned to its familiar elegance.
“You've been sending people to my daughter's room?” he asked.
She looked up sharply.
“What?”
He showed her the message.
Vanessa's face drained of color.
“I didn't send that.”
“Do you recognize the number?”
“No.”
“Do you recognize this man?”
He displayed the security footage of Richard Vale.
For the first time that evening, Vanessa looked genuinely horrified.
“Where did you get that?”
“Answer the question.”
“Richard was in London when Isabella died.”
“That's what you told me.”
“Because it's true!”
Dominic placed the tablet on the table.
“Then explain why he's standing outside my house on the night my wife died.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Try again.”
She rose from the sofa.
“Dominic, I loved Isabella. We fought sometimes, but I never wanted her dead.”
“Did you argue with her that night?”
Silence.
“Vanessa.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “We argued.”
“About what?”
“Money.”
He stared at her.
“My wife died three years ago, and you neglected to mention that you fought with her hours before the accident?”
“I was trying to protect you!”
“From what?”
Vanessa looked toward the guards.
“Can we speak privately?”
“No.”
Her lips tightened.
“Fine. Isabella had discovered that her father was stealing from the family foundation. She found documents proving that millions of dollars had disappeared.”
Dominic's expression hardened.
“Why would Richard steal from his own daughter's foundation?”
“He wasn't stealing from it for himself. He was moving money through companies connected to people you do business with.”
Dominic felt a chill spread through him.
His legitimate shipping empire had always operated alongside a far more dangerous network. Richard had helped arrange several investments when Dominic and Isabella first married.
“Did Isabella tell me?”
“She planned to. She said she had evidence.”
“What happened to it?”
Vanessa looked down.
“I don't know.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“Were you helping Richard?”
“No.”
“Then why was he here?”
“I told you, I don't know!”
For a moment, she looked less like a calculating socialite and more like a woman cornered by something she had never expected to surface.
Dominic ordered the guards to take her to the locked guest wing. She would not be allowed near Emma, and every conversation she had would be recorded with her knowledge.
As the guards escorted her away, Vanessa turned back.
“Dominic, if you find Richard, don't trust anything he tells you.”
“Why?”
Her voice dropped.
“Because he wasn't the only one who wanted Isabella silenced.”
Before he could question her further, she disappeared through the doorway.
Dominic returned to his study and called the only investigator he trusted completely: Marcus Reed, a former federal agent who had spent fifteen years dismantling financial networks tied to organized crime.
Marcus arrived forty minutes later.
He watched the footage, listened to the recordings, and studied the threatening message.
“Someone is trying to control the evidence,” Marcus said. “The question is whether they want to hide a murder, a financial crime, or both.”
“Find Richard Vale.”
Marcus nodded.
“And get me a copy of the original crash investigation.”
While Marcus worked, Dominic went to Emma's room.
Sophie sat beside the bed, reading a picture book. Emma was awake, holding her teddy bear against her chest.
“Daddy!”
She scrambled toward him.
Dominic caught her before she could fall.
“Easy, princess.”
“Are you leaving again?”
“Not tonight.”
“Promise?”
He kissed her forehead.
“Promise.”
She studied his face.
“Did the bear tell you about Mommy?”
“It told me that you tried very hard to protect something important.”
Emma lowered her eyes.
“Mommy told me the bear was magic.”
Dominic smiled sadly.
“What kind of magic?”
“She said it could keep secrets safe until the right person was ready to hear them.”
He swallowed.
“Did she say anything else?”
Emma thought for a moment.
“Mommy told me that if something bad happened, I should look for the blue bird.”
Dominic went still.
“What blue bird?”
Emma pointed to a small porcelain figurine on her bookshelf. It was shaped like a bluebird with one chipped wing.
Dominic recognized it.
Isabella had bought it during their honeymoon. He thought it had disappeared after her death.
“Where did you get that?”
“Vanessa gave it to me last Christmas. She said Mommy wouldn't need it anymore.”
Dominic picked up the figurine.
Its underside was heavier than he expected.
He turned it over and noticed a tiny screw beneath the base.
“Marcus!” he called.
The investigator entered.
Dominic handed him the bird.
“Open it carefully.”
Marcus used a small tool to remove the base. Inside was a folded piece of paper and a tiny metal key.
The paper contained a handwritten message in Isabella's unmistakable handwriting.
If Dominic ever finds this, it means I couldn't tell him the truth myself.
Below it was an address in downtown New Orleans.
And one final sentence.
The man who raised you is not the man who saved you.
Dominic stared at the words.
His father, Salvatore Moretti, had died when Dominic was seventeen. He remembered the funeral, the black cars, the men who bowed their heads, and the promise he had made to protect the family.
He had never questioned his father's legacy.
Marcus examined the key.
“Looks like a safety-deposit key.”
Dominic took the note back.
“Find the box.”
Marcus glanced at the address.
“I'll go tonight.”
“No. We go together.”
Before they could leave, the security alarm sounded.
A guard rushed into the study.
“Boss, we found someone inside the east wing.”
Dominic drew his weapon.
“Who?”
The guard hesitated.
“Your daughter recognized him.”
Dominic's stomach tightened.
“Where is he?”
“In the nursery.”
They hurried down the hallway.
Inside, Emma stood beside Sophie, clutching the teddy bear. A tall man in a dark coat knelt in front of her, his face hidden beneath the brim of his hat.
He slowly lifted his head.
Dominic's weapon slipped slightly in his hand.
The man had the same gray eyes as Isabella.
The same sharp cheekbones.
And a face Dominic had seen on a memorial photograph three years earlier.
Richard Vale.
Emma whispered, “Grandpa?”
Richard looked at Dominic.
Then he said the words that shattered everything Dominic thought he knew.
May you like
“Your wife is alive, son.”
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