Chapter 2 - The Man at the Door
Dominic had faced armed men without feeling what he felt when Augustus Carver asked that question.
“And if she had?”
There was no acceptable answer.
Dominic looked across the ballroom at Charlotte.
Claire.
He suddenly did not know what to call her.
She stood beneath the chandeliers with one hand around her fallen earring, surrounded by people who had watched him humiliate her and done nothing.
Dominic understood something unpleasant.
He had spent years believing silence meant respect.
Tonight it looked a lot like fear.
“I was wrong,” he said.
Augustus remained quiet.
“I shouldn’t have touched her.”
“No,” Augustus said. “You shouldn’t have.”
Dominic waited for a threat.
None came.
Instead Augustus asked, “Does Charlotte want me there?”
Dominic looked at her.
The question surprised her too.
He held out the phone.
“Your father wants to know whether you want him here.”
Charlotte hesitated.
Seven years lived inside that hesitation.
Finally, she took the phone.
“Yes.”
Augustus exhaled.
“I’m coming.”
The call ended.
Dominic immediately turned toward his security chief.
“Lock the club.”
Charlotte’s head snapped up.
“No.”
“Nobody leaves until I know who took the watch.”
“You still think this is about your watch?”
“I think somebody framed you.”
That changed the room.
Peter Wallace stepped forward. “Mr. Rainer—”
Dominic looked at him.
Peter stopped.
“Pull every camera angle from the last hour. Nobody touches the footage.”
Charlotte wiped blood from her lip.
“I’m leaving.”
“You shouldn’t go alone.”
She laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“You’re offering protection?”
Dominic took the insult without reacting.
“Yes.”
“From whom?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
She walked toward the employees’ hallway.
Dominic followed.
“Charlotte.”
She stopped.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you?”
“Nothing.”
Then she disappeared through the swinging door.
Dominic stood there for several seconds before turning back.
“Find the watch.”
His security chief, Adrian Holt, nodded.
Twenty-three minutes later, Adrian entered Dominic’s office carrying a clear evidence bag.
The platinum watch was inside.
Dominic rose slowly.
“Where?”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Peter Wallace’s office.”
Peter, standing near the desk, went gray.
“That’s impossible.”
Adrian continued.
“Inside a locked drawer.”
Peter shook his head violently. “I didn’t put it there.”
Dominic believed him.
That frightened Peter even more.
“Who has access to your office?”
“Me. Assistant management. Cleaning staff. Security.”
“Camera?”
“The hallway camera went offline at 8:42.”
The watch disappeared at 8:47.
Dominic looked toward the security monitor.
Someone had not merely stolen his watch.
Someone had chosen Charlotte.
Why?
Then Adrian placed something else on the desk.
A photograph.
Dominic recognized it as the one Charlotte had snatched away when her purse was searched.
Apparently it had fallen beneath a chair.
The picture showed a young woman standing beside Augustus Carver.
Charlotte’s mother.
And beside them stood another woman Dominic recognized immediately.
His own mother.
Dominic stared.
“Where did you get this?”
“Under the table.”
Dominic turned the photograph over.
Three words had been written on the back.
Keep the girls safe.
His pulse changed.
Before he could speak, headlights swept across the club’s front windows.
Not one car.
Six.
The ballroom reacted almost simultaneously.
Men who had spent twenty years pretending Augustus Carver was merely another businessman suddenly found reasons to stand straighter.
The front doors opened.
Augustus entered alone.
He was sixty-two, silver-haired, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a dark overcoat without a tie.
He did not look like a monster.
That was why people feared him.
He looked like someone’s father arriving late to dinner.
His eyes searched the ballroom once.
“Where is she?”
Dominic stepped forward.
“Employees’ dressing room.”
Augustus walked past him.
Dominic followed.
At the doorway, Augustus stopped.
Charlotte sat on a wooden bench.
She had changed out of her uniform into jeans, sneakers, and an old gray sweater.
For seven years Augustus had spent millions looking for her.
Now he simply stared.
Charlotte stood.
Neither moved.
Then Augustus said, “You cut your hair.”
Charlotte’s mouth trembled.
“You got old.”
He smiled.
It broke almost immediately.
“So did you.”
“I was nineteen.”
“I know.”
“You sent people after me.”
“To make sure you were alive.”
“You had them follow me.”
“Until you found every one of them.”
Despite herself, Charlotte almost smiled.
“I was good.”
“You were always good.”
Silence returned.
Then Augustus saw her cheek.
Whatever warmth had entered his expression vanished.
Dominic felt the temperature of the hallway change.
But Augustus did not attack him.
He looked back at his daughter.
“What do you want me to do?”
Charlotte’s answer came instantly.
“Nothing.”
Augustus studied her.
“Nothing?”
“I didn’t call you so you could punish him.”
Dominic looked surprised.
“Then why did you call?”
Charlotte turned toward him.
“Because for one minute, I wanted you to understand what it feels like to look at someone and realize their name matters more than yours.”
The words landed harder than any threat Augustus could have made.
Dominic lowered his eyes.
“You succeeded.”
Charlotte picked up her coat.
“I’m going home.”
Augustus said, “I’ll drive you.”
“No.”
“Charlotte.”
“No guards. No convoy. No men following me.”
A pause.
“One car?”
“No.”
“Cab?”
“I take the subway.”
Augustus looked horrified.
Charlotte actually smiled.
It lasted half a second.
Then Dominic entered the room holding the photograph.
“I think you both need to see this.”
Augustus took one look and stopped.
“Where did you find that?”
“In Charlotte’s purse.”
“It belonged to my mother,” Charlotte said.
Dominic pointed at his mother.
“They knew each other.”
Augustus’s face became unreadable.
Charlotte noticed.
“Dad?”
He did not answer.
Dominic turned the photograph over.
“Keep the girls safe.”
Charlotte frowned.
“Girls?”
Augustus closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he looked suddenly exhausted.
“Your mother made me promise never to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
A knock interrupted them.
Adrian stood outside.
“We found something on the security footage.”
Dominic followed him to the monitor.
The video showed Charlotte entering the private booth.
Then leaving.
Three minutes later, another person approached.
A woman in a silver evening gown.
Dominic leaned closer.
He knew her.
Vanessa Rainer.
His father’s younger sister.
His aunt.
The footage showed Vanessa slipping something from her purse beneath a napkin.
The watch.
Then another camera caught her entering Peter Wallace’s office.
Dominic stared.
“Why would she frame Charlotte?”
Augustus appeared behind him.
His face had lost all color.
“Because she knows who Charlotte is.”
Charlotte turned.
“And why does that matter?”
Augustus looked at the photograph again.
“Because your mother didn’t die in an accident.”
Charlotte froze.
Dominic stopped breathing.
May you like
Augustus continued.
“And neither did Dominic’s.”
