Chapter 5 - The Woman in the Passenger SeatVivien disappeared before sunrise.
Her penthouse was empty.
Her passport was gone.
Senator Kensington publicly accused Dominic of kidnapping his daughter.
By noon, every television station in Boston was running Dominic’s photograph.
Khloe watched the coverage from the Costello house.
“They're turning you into the villain.”
Dominic buttoned his jacket.
“They don't have to work hard.”
She looked at him.
“Is that what you think you are?”
He didn't answer.
That bothered her more than yes would have.
Julian finally told them what happened seven years earlier.
Thomas Bennett had arranged to meet a federal investigator.
Kensington learned about it.
A vehicle followed Thomas onto Route 3.
Vivien was inside.
So was her father.
And another man.
Thomas’s car was forced through a barrier.
The crash was staged as an accident.
Vivien witnessed everything.
Afterward, Senator Kensington built her entire adult life around silence.
“She knows where the original ledger is,” Julian said.
“What ledger?” Khloe asked.
“The one proving Kensington laundered millions through Costello companies.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“Where?”
Julian smiled.
“Ask Vivien.”
Finding her took two days.
She wasn't fleeing Boston.
She was hiding in her father's campaign headquarters.
Dominic and Khloe confronted her underground.
Vivien looked different without makeup and diamonds.
Smaller.
Terrified.
When she saw Khloe, shame crossed her face.
“I didn't kill your father.”
“You watched.”
“I was nineteen.”
“So was I when I buried him.”
Vivien flinched.
“My father said Thomas was going to destroy us.”
“Your father murdered him.”
“Yes.”
The word echoed.
Khloe's eyes burned.
“Who was driving?”
Vivien looked at Dominic.
“Your uncle.”
Dominic stiffened.
“Salvatore?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Your mother's brother. Vincent.”
Dominic’s face emptied.
Vincent Marchetti had been living in Florida for years.
He had attended Salvatore's funeral.
He had comforted Dominic’s mother.
He was family.
Vivien began crying.
“Vincent worked for my father. When Thomas discovered the laundering, Vincent arranged the crash. Then he helped abduct Anthony.”
Dominic turned away.
Khloe understood something then.
Power did not protect people from betrayal.
Sometimes it merely gave betrayal more doors to enter through.
“Where is the ledger?” she asked.
Vivien wiped her face.
“Your father hid it.”
“My father?”
“He gave me a message that night.”
Khloe stepped closer.
“What message?”
Vivien swallowed.
“He said, ‘Tell Khloe to look beneath the place where her mother taught her to dance.’”
Khloe stopped breathing.
Her childhood home in Quincy.
The kitchen.
Her mother used to play Motown records while cooking Sunday breakfast.
Khloe had stood on her mother's feet and learned to dance across the faded yellow tiles.
The house had been sold after her mother died.
But Khloe knew exactly which tile.
They went that night.
The new owners were away.
Matteo got them inside.
Khloe found the tile beside the old radiator.
Dominic pried it loose.
Underneath sat a sealed metal tube.
Inside was the ledger.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Judges.
Police officers.
Politicians.
Port officials.
At the center of every transaction:
Richard Kensington.
Khloe sank onto the floor.
Her father had died protecting this.
Dominic sat beside her.
“You found it.”
“He found it.”
She touched Thomas Bennett’s handwriting.
“I spent seven years thinking my father left me nothing except debt.”
“He left you the truth.”
She looked at Dominic.
“And what does truth buy me?”
“Whatever you decide.”
“Revenge?”
“If that's what you want.”
“Would you kill them?”
“Yes.”
The speed of the answer frightened her.
Dominic saw it.
“But you don't want that.”
“No.”
“What do you want?”
Khloe thought about her father.
Her mother.
Every humiliation she'd swallowed.
“I want them exposed.”
Dominic nodded.
“Then that's what we'll do.”
“You'd give this to federal prosecutors?”
“It could destroy my family.”
“I know.”
“It could send me to prison if they connect businesses I inherited to the accounts.”
“I know.”
He stared at her.
She expected hesitation.
Instead he took out his phone.
“Then we burn it down.”
That was the moment Khloe began falling in love with him.
Not when he protected her.
Not when he touched her bruised cheek.
When he willingly risked his empire to give her father justice.
They contacted a federal prosecutor through Anthony.
A meeting was arranged.
But Kensington moved first.
The following afternoon, Khloe received a photograph.
Dominic’s mother tied to a chair.
Beneath it was a message.
BRING THE LEDGER.
COME ALONE.
Khloe showed Dominic.
His face became lethal.
“No.”
“It's your mother.”
“And they want you.”
“Then we give them me.”
“Absolutely not.”
Khloe stepped closer.
“You said I decide what happens with the truth.”
“Yes.”
“I've decided.”
“Khloe—”
“I spent my whole life being told to stay small because being small made everyone else comfortable.”
Her voice shook, but she didn't stop.
“I am done making myself smaller.”
Dominic stared at her.
Then something unexpected happened.
He smiled.
Not because the situation was funny.
Because he understood.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“We do it your way.”
He touched her hand.
“But you're not going alone.”
Before she could answer, he kissed her.
Slowly.
Gently.
Nothing like the violent world surrounding him.
When they separated, Khloe whispered, “Was that part of the plan?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
May you like
She kissed him again.
“Because I would've changed the plan.”
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