Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO WANTED THE CROWN
At 6:30 the next morning, three black SUVs surrounded Jenna's apartment building.
She thought the men had come to arrest her.
Instead, Vincent Marino stepped out of the middle vehicle.
He wore a charcoal overcoat, his expression unreadable.
“Get your daughter dressed,” he said.
Jenna stood in the doorway.
“You cannot just show up here and give me orders.”
Vincent glanced toward the stairwell.
“Someone threatened Lily.”
“I know.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
Jenna showed him the photograph.
Vincent read the message once.
Then again.
Something dangerous settled across his face.
“Who delivered this?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I was going to.”
“Good. Do that. My security team will cooperate with the investigation.”
Jenna folded her arms.
“I'm not taking my daughter anywhere with strangers.”
Vincent studied her.
“Then come with me voluntarily. I have a secure residence outside the city. You and Lily will have separate rooms, medical care if needed, and the freedom to leave whenever the authorities confirm the threat has been addressed.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn't.”
His answer surprised her.
“Trust should be earned,” he continued. “But somebody has already demonstrated that they know where your daughter sleeps. I won't pretend that's a problem you can solve with a better lock.”
Jenna looked back at Lily.
Her little girl was standing behind the sofa, clutching her stuffed rabbit.
“Mommy?”
Jenna closed her eyes.
“Okay. But I make the decisions about my daughter.”
Vincent nodded.
“Agreed.”
The residence was a private estate outside Chicago, surrounded by tall trees, iron gates and enough security cameras to monitor every entrance.
Lily was fascinated by the enormous staircase.
“Mommy, is this a castle?”
“Something like that.”
Vincent heard her.
“It's a house.”
Lily looked at him.
“Do you have princesses?”
“No.”
“Then it's not a castle.”
For the first time in years, Vincent almost smiled.
Jenna noticed.
It was strange seeing a man feared by half of Chicago being corrected by a six-year-old.
But the moment did not last.
Inside the study, Vincent confronted his head of security, Marcus Bell.
“Find the person who photographed Jenna.”
Marcus nodded.
“We're reviewing the hotel footage.”
“And Dominic?”
“He hasn't returned my calls.”
Vincent looked toward the window.
“Where is he?”
“His apartment. According to his driver, he left at midnight.”
“Alone?”
Marcus hesitated.
“No.”
Vincent turned.
“Who was with him?”
“Vanessa Sterling.”
The name brought an uncomfortable silence.
Vanessa had been engaged to Vincent for eleven months.
She was beautiful, wealthy and socially connected. Her family owned a chain of luxury properties, and her father had helped Vincent secure several legitimate business acquisitions.
She had also been Dominic's closest confidante.
Vincent had never considered that suspicious.
He did now.
“Bring me everything we have on Vanessa.”
At that exact moment, Jenna entered the study carrying a cup of coffee.
“Your doctor called,” she said. “He wants you at the hospital at ten.”
Vincent looked at the cup.
“You didn't have to bring that.”
“I know.”
She placed it down.
“Your brother has been calling.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“Did he speak to you?”
“No. He left a message.”
“What did he say?”
Jenna hesitated.
“He said I should stop pretending to be important. Then he said you would eventually understand that I was using you.”
Vincent stood.
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not directly.”
“There's no such thing as an indirect threat from Dominic.”
Before Jenna could respond, the front doors opened.
Vanessa Sterling walked into the estate wearing a cream designer coat and carrying a bouquet of white roses.
“Vincent!”
She hurried toward him, kissed his cheek and looked around.
Then she noticed Jenna.
Her smile vanished.
“What is she doing here?”
“Good morning to you too,” Jenna replied.
Vanessa ignored her.
“Darling, I've been calling you all night.”
“I was occupied.”
“With the seamstress?”
Jenna felt her cheeks burn.
Vincent's expression remained cold.
“Her name is Jenna.”
Vanessa laughed.
“How charming. Has she been promoted from alterations to personal assistant?”
“Enough.”
The single word silenced the room.
Vanessa looked genuinely offended.
“I came because I was worried about you.”
“Then you should have called my doctor.”
“I did. He wouldn't tell me anything.”
“Because you're not my wife.”
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
“Not yet.”
She turned toward Jenna.
“Would you mind leaving us alone?”
“No,” Vincent answered.
Vanessa stared at him.
He continued.
“Jenna stays.”
For several seconds, the two women looked at each other.
Then Vanessa noticed a child's drawing on the coffee table.
It showed a little girl, a large house and three stick figures.
“Who drew that?”
“Lily,” Jenna said.
Vanessa picked it up.
“How sweet.”
She placed it back down carelessly.
Then she leaned toward Vincent.
“We need to talk about the engagement announcement.”
“Not today.”
“Your family expects it.”
“My family can wait.”
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
“Dominic says you've become irrational.”
Vincent slowly turned his head.
“Dominic says many things.”
The room fell silent.
Vanessa recovered quickly.
“I'm only repeating what he told me.”
“Then perhaps you should stop.”
She left without saying goodbye.
But Jenna saw something when Vanessa passed her.
Fear.
Not anger.
Fear.
That afternoon, Vincent underwent a series of medical tests.
The results were disturbing.
The device concealed in his jacket was not simply a tracking transmitter. Preliminary analysis suggested that it had been configured to interact with a second electronic component hidden in the lining.
A specialist believed the system could have disrupted the stimulation device near Vincent's damaged nerves, triggering the severe episodes he had suffered for years.
The doctor could not yet determine who had installed it or how long it had been operating.
Vincent sat silently as Dr. Reed explained the findings.
“Someone knew about the implant,” the doctor said.
“Only five people knew about that surgery.”
“Who?”
Vincent counted them.
His surgeon.
His former personal physician.
His father.
Dominic.
And Vanessa.
His father had been dead for eight years.
The surgeon had retired.
The former physician had moved to Switzerland.
That left two people.
Later that night, Marcus entered the study with a tablet.
“We found something.”
He placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed Dominic entering a private clinic three weeks earlier.
A woman walked beside him.
Vanessa.
But the photograph was not what made Vincent go still.
It was the man standing behind them.
Dr. Samuel Reed.
The same doctor who had examined Vincent's jacket that morning.
Vincent stared at the screen.
“Tell me that's a mistake.”
Marcus swallowed.
“There's something else.”
He opened a second photograph.
Dominic was handing the doctor a thick envelope.
The timestamp showed that the exchange had taken place two days before Vincent's latest medical episode.
Vincent rose slowly.
“Bring Dr. Reed here.”
Marcus nodded.
Then his phone rang.
He answered, listened for five seconds and went pale.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
“What?”
“The doctor is dead.”
Vincent looked at the photograph.
“How?”
Marcus hesitated.
“His car was found burning outside the city.”
And before Vincent could say another word, a message appeared on his phone.
It came from Dominic.
May you like
You should have left the seamstress downstairs, brother. Now you've dragged everyone into something you don't understand.
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