Chapter 8 - The Woman Who Refused the Empire
Dominic woke two days later.
Charlotte was not beside his bed.
He had no right to expect her to be.
Augustus was.
Dominic opened his eyes and frowned.
“This is disappointing.”
Augustus almost smiled.
“Good morning.”
“Charlotte?”
“Safe.”
Dominic relaxed.
Augustus noticed.
“She came the first night.”
Dominic looked toward him.
“She stayed until surgery ended. Then she left.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“She shouldn’t feel responsible for me.”
Augustus studied him.
“You’ve changed.”
“I got shot.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Dominic looked at the ceiling.
“I hit your daughter.”
“Yes.”
“You could have killed me.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Charlotte asked me not to.”
Dominic swallowed.
“And because Catherine would have hated the man I became if I did.”
Three floors below, reporters surrounded the hospital.
The Haven scandal had exploded.
Henry Vale had been charged.
Samuel had been arrested.
Peter Wallace was captured at JFK using a false passport.
Vanessa Rainer surrendered through her attorney the following morning.
More arrests were expected.
Charlotte wanted nothing to do with any of it.
Unfortunately, America wanted everything to do with Charlotte.
THE MISSING CARVER HEIRESS.
BILLIONAIRE DAUGHTER LIVED AS WAITRESS FOR SEVEN YEARS.
THE SLAP THAT EXPOSED A TWENTY-YEAR SECRET.
She hated every headline.
She especially hated the photograph of her bruised face.
Three days later, Augustus brought her to his penthouse.
On the dining table sat documents.
“What are these?”
“Your trust.”
“No.”
“You haven’t read them.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Charlotte, it’s yours.”
“I left because I didn’t want your money controlling me.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It always does.”
Augustus slowly closed the folder.
“All right.”
She stared.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“You’re not going to threaten me?”
“No.”
“Tell me Mom wanted me to have it?”
“No.”
“Explain why I’m being childish?”
“No.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes.
“Who are you?”
Augustus smiled.
“A slow learner.”
She laughed despite herself.
Then he slid a second document across the table.
“This one isn’t money.”
It was the deed to the Brooklyn brownstone.
Charlotte looked up.
“Your mother left it specifically to you.”
The building that housed Haven.
Charlotte ran her fingers over the paper.
“What happens to Haven now?”
“You decide.”
“Why me?”
“Because Catherine did.”
That afternoon, Charlotte visited Dominic.
He was sitting up, looking irritated at hospital food.
“You look terrible.”
He looked at her.
“You came.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She placed a paper bag beside him.
“What’s that?”
“Real coffee.”
Dominic opened it.
“Black?”
“With sugar.”
He looked offended.
“You remembered.”
“I remember mistakes.”
His smile faded.
“So do I.”
Charlotte sat.
For a while neither spoke.
Finally Dominic said, “I’m selling the Marlowe.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want it.”
“That sounds dramatic.”
“It is.”
“Then don’t.”
He frowned.
Charlotte continued.
“You want to change? Change the place.”
“How?”
“Start with Peter’s employees.”
Dominic listened.
“Half the staff had wages skimmed through fake fees. People were afraid to complain.”
“How do you know?”
“I worked there.”
The simplicity of the answer embarrassed him.
“What would you do?”
“Pay everyone what they’re owed. Put employees on the oversight board. Stop treating service workers like furniture.”
Dominic nodded.
“Done.”
“Don’t say done because I said it.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why?”
“Because it’s right.”
Charlotte leaned back.
“Better answer.”
He looked at her bruised cheek.
The mark was fading.
His shame was not.
“I’m going to publicly admit what I did.”
“You already did.”
“My lawyers released a statement.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“I know.”
The next morning Dominic left the hospital against medical advice and stood before cameras outside the Marlowe.
He did not blame alcohol.
He did not mention stress.
He did not say he had been provoked.
He said he had accused an innocent employee without evidence and struck her.
He said power had made him accustomed to confusing obedience with respect.
Then he announced restitution for exploited workers and independent oversight of the club.
Charlotte watched from Emma’s apartment.
Emma handed her popcorn.
“You like him.”
Charlotte nearly choked.
“I absolutely do not.”
“You’re watching his press conference.”
“It concerns me.”
“You replayed the part where he said your name twice.”
“I was checking context.”
“Sure.”
Charlotte threw popcorn at her.
For the first time in days, she laughed.
Then her phone rang.
Federal prosecutors.
They had recovered Catherine’s complete Haven archive.
One final video had been found.
Addressed to Charlotte.
She watched it alone.
Her mother appeared on-screen, younger than Charlotte remembered.
Catherine smiled.
“If you’re seeing this, Charlie, then something went wrong.”
Charlotte covered her mouth.
“I need you to know something. Your father will try to protect you from everything. Including life. Fight him when you need to.”
Charlotte laughed through tears.
“But don’t confuse his fear with a lack of love.”
Catherine looked away briefly.
“And Dominic—if that stubborn Rainer boy is somehow watching too—your mother believed you could become better than the men who raised you.”
Charlotte stopped breathing.
Catherine smiled.
“Both of you are going to inherit names people fear. I hope you build something people don’t have to fear.”
The video ended.
Charlotte sat alone for a long time.
Then she looked at the deed to Haven.
May you like
For seven years, she had believed freedom meant running away from her name.
Maybe freedom was being able to choose what the name meant.
