Chapter 7 - THE WIFE WHO NEVER CAME HOME
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The phone signal led Marcus to an abandoned medical facility forty miles north of New Orleans.
By the time Dominic's team arrived, the building was empty.
A wheelchair lay overturned in the hallway. A glass of water sat beside an open window. On the floor was a bloodstained strip of fabric matching the sleeve of the coat Isabella wore in the photograph.
Dominic picked it up.
“Search every room.”
His men spread through the building.
Marcus found a security monitor in a locked office. Most of the footage had been erased, but a short clip remained.
It showed Isabella walking slowly down a corridor with the help of a nurse.
A man entered the frame behind them.
Arthur Cole.
He spoke to the nurse, then escorted Isabella through a side exit.
Dominic watched the footage twice.
“Arthur was moving her.”
“Maybe he was protecting her,” Marcus said.
“Then why did he disappear?”
“Because Vincent found out.”
Dominic turned toward the broken window.
“Or because Arthur was the one who kept her hidden.”
They found a handwritten address inside a desk drawer. It led to a small house outside Baton Rouge, registered under a false name.
Dominic wanted to leave immediately, but Marcus insisted on calling the local authorities and checking the property first.
“We're not walking into another trap,” he said.
Dominic hated waiting.
Every minute without Isabella felt like another hour stolen from his life.
At last, the team confirmed the house was empty except for a locked cabinet. Inside, Dominic found photographs, medical records, and letters addressed to Emma.
He opened the first letter.
My sweet little bird,
If you're reading this, you are older than I hoped you would be before we met again. I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. Not for one second.
I wanted to come home every day.
But the people who hurt our family were watching. I believed that if they thought I was dead, they would leave you alone.
Dominic pressed the paper against his chest.
Another letter contained a photograph of Isabella sitting beside a hospital bed. She looked pale and exhausted, but her eyes were alive with determination.
The medical records revealed that she had survived a severe crash and spent months recovering from multiple injuries.
Someone had transferred her between private facilities under false names.
The final document was a list of payments made to Arthur Cole.
Dominic's jaw tightened.
The money had come from an account controlled by Vincent.
“Arthur was being paid to keep her hidden,” Marcus said.
“Or paid to keep her alive.”
A sound came from the back of the house.
Dominic drew his weapon.
“Who's there?”
A woman stepped into the doorway.
She wore a dark sweater and carried a small medical bag.
Her face was older, thinner, but unmistakable.
Isabella.
For a moment, Dominic couldn't move.
She stared at him, tears streaming down her face.
“Dominic.”
He crossed the room in three strides.
Then stopped just short of touching her.
“Are you real?”
Isabella gave a broken laugh.
“Yes.”
He reached for her, and she fell into his arms.
Dominic held her so tightly that she gasped.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry.”
He buried his face in her hair.
“I buried you.”
“I know.”
“I watched them lower an empty coffin into the ground.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“I wanted to come home.”
“Then why didn't you?”
She pulled back.
“Because I believed Vincent would kill Emma if I did.”
Dominic's expression hardened.
“Who told you that?”
“Arthur.”
He stared at her.
“Arthur was working for Vincent.”
“Not at first. Your father trusted him. After your father's death, Vincent threatened his family. Arthur believed the only way to protect Emma was to keep me hidden.”
“Why didn't you send a message?”
“I tried.”
She reached into her bag and removed a small envelope.
“Every message was intercepted. Every person I trusted disappeared or was threatened.”
Dominic looked at her.
“And Vanessa?”
Isabella lowered her eyes.
“She was involved, but I don't think she understood everything.”
“She locked Emma in her room.”
Isabella flinched.
“What?”
“She threatened to have Emma sent away. She frightened her until she started recording everything.”
Isabella's face crumpled.
“My baby.”
“She thinks you abandoned her.”
Isabella covered her mouth.
“I never wanted that.”
Dominic took her hands.
“Then come home with me.”
She hesitated.
“There is something you need to know first.”
He waited.
“Vincent didn't just want the financial records. He wanted something your father hid before he died. Something that could destroy every person involved in the old family network.”
“The bluebird?”
Isabella nodded.
“The figurine contained the key to the first vault. But the documents inside it were only half the evidence.”
“Where's the other half?”
Isabella looked toward Marcus.
“Your investigator knows more than he's told you.”
Dominic turned sharply.
Marcus stood near the doorway, his face unreadable.
“Explain,” Dominic ordered.
Marcus slowly raised his hands.
“I found the original accident report months ago. I knew Isabella might be alive. I didn't tell you because I was trying to identify everyone involved before the information got back to Vincent.”
“You let me believe my wife was dead.”
“I had no proof she was alive.”
“You had her medical records!”
“I found those three days ago.”
Isabella stepped between them.
“Dominic, he helped me escape the facility tonight.”
Dominic's anger did not disappear, but he lowered his weapon.
“Then tell me about the second half of the evidence.”
Isabella drew a shaky breath.
“Your father recorded a confession before he died. It names the people who ordered his murder and explains why Vincent has spent twenty years trying to control this family.”
Dominic stared at her.
“My father was murdered?”
Isabella nodded.
“And the confession is hidden somewhere only you can open.”
“Where?”
She looked directly into his eyes.
“Inside the wall behind your father's portrait.”
Dominic's phone vibrated.
A message from Sophie appeared.
Emma is safe. But she found another recording.
A second message followed.
Dominic, you need to come home immediately.
Then a photograph appeared.
It showed Emma sitting on her bed, holding the teddy bear.
Behind her, written across the bedroom wall in black marker, were six words.
May you like
MOMMY WASN'T THE FIRST WOMAN THEY BURIED.
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