Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
Dominic enlarged the photograph until his father’s face became grainy.
Twenty years had changed Anthony Valente.
Not enough.
The same heavy brow.
The same straight nose.
The same expression Dominic remembered from childhood dinners when everyone at the table knew better than to speak before Anthony did.
Clara saw the screen.
Her heart monitor accelerated.
“He found the bracelet.”
Dominic turned.
“You knew there were two.”
“Elena made them.”
“For Serena’s daughter?”
Clara nodded.
“One for the child. One for the person who was supposed to bring her home if anything happened to me.”
“My father has it.”
“He shouldn’t.”
Dominic called Marco again.
This time he answered.
“Tomas is conscious. Anthony’s gone.”
“How?”
“Transit exit on Canal. We lost him in traffic.”
“Was anything taken?”
“The birth certificate. One recording.”
Dominic looked at Clara.
“What recording?”
Clara went still.
“Elena made three.”
“Tomas found two.”
“The third was hidden inside the folder lining.”
Dominic’s patience snapped.
“What was on it?”
“I never heard it.”
He studied her face.
For once, he believed her.
Marco continued. “We recovered something Anthony dropped.”
“What?”
“A train ticket.”
“Where to?”
“Milwaukee. Tomorrow morning.”
Clara tried to sit up.
Dominic put a hand against her shoulder.
“No.”
“The girl is in Milwaukee.”
“Then she’s coming back.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Dominic, your father wants her.”
“And leaving her alone makes her safer?”
Clara looked at him for a long moment.
“No.”
It was the first time she had surrendered anything all night.
Dominic called Marco.
“Send two people you trust. Nobody connected to my father. Bring her somewhere secure.”
“What’s her name?”
Dominic looked at Clara.
She closed her eyes.
“Lily Hart.”
Marco repeated it.
“Twenty years old?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll find her.”
When Dominic hung up, Clara looked exhausted.
“Don’t frighten her.”
“I’m apparently related to half the secrets in Chicago. I’ll try to be charming.”
Despite everything, Clara almost smiled.
It vanished quickly.
“Lily believes her mother died when she was a baby.”
“Who raised her?”
“A couple named Daniel and Ruth Hart. Elena knew Ruth through St. Agnes.”
“Do they know Serena is alive?”
“Ruth does. Daniel died six years ago.”
“And Lily?”
“No.”
Dominic looked down at the red bracelet.
“You let her believe her mother was dead.”
“I let a child believe the safest version of the truth.”
“And when she stopped being a child?”
Clara had no answer.
That silence bothered him.
Before he could press further, Dr. Cole entered and ordered Clara to rest.
Dominic stepped into the hallway.
Serena was sitting twenty yards away.
Marco’s men stood on either side of her.
She had not escaped.
She had returned.
That was the reversal Dominic had not expected.
He walked toward her.
“You ran.”
“Yes.”
“Then came back.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Serena looked tired now.
Not fragile.
Not seductive.
Just tired.
“Because your father has Lily.”
Dominic stopped.
“My men are bringing Lily back from Milwaukee.”
“No, they aren’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she never made it there.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
Serena opened her purse slowly.
One guard moved closer.
She removed a silver necklace.
A small oval locket hung from it.
“Clara gave this to my daughter the night she was born.”
Dominic stared.
“You kept it?”
“I stole it back before Clara took her.”
“Clara said you agreed.”
“I did.”
Serena’s eyes filled.
“For twelve hours.”
That changed something.
Not enough to erase the theft.
Not enough to erase the crash.
But enough to complicate the villain Dominic had already created in his mind.
“My father raised me,” Serena said. “He was controlling. He was cruel when he was afraid. But he was also the man who sat beside my bed when I had pneumonia and taught me to drive and paid for every stupid dance class I begged for.”
“You’re defending him?”
“I’m explaining why sixteen-year-old me went back.”
She rubbed the locket between her fingers.
“When I realized what he intended for my baby, I tried to leave again. Clara had already moved her.”
“Did you send Evan after Clara today?”
Serena looked at him.
“Yes.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“But not to hurt her.”
“The message said stop her from reaching me.”
“Because she had the foundation records.”
“You stole millions.”
“I moved millions.”
“To where?”
“Accounts Anthony couldn’t reach.”
Dominic stared.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. Check.”
“What were you funding?”
“Women.”
He said nothing.
“Women leaving men like Anthony. Housing. Legal fees. New identities when necessary. The foundation board would never approve it, and neither would you.”
“You never asked me.”
“You were sleeping with me, Dominic. You weren’t exactly demonstrating excellent judgment.”
The words hit cleanly.
He deserved them.
“What happened in the car?”
“Evan was supposed to take Clara to me.”
“Why?”
“Because she had found Lily’s location, and Anthony had found out.”
“Then why did Evan leave her bleeding?”
Serena’s mouth tightened.
“Because he panicked.”
“That’s your defense?”
“No.”
She looked ashamed.
“It’s the truth.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“Who sent the messages from my mother’s line?”
“Anthony. He kept Elena’s old phone after she died.”
“How?”
“He was at her house the night she died.”
Dominic felt the hallway narrow.
“My mother died from an aneurysm.”
“Yes.”
“Are you saying he killed her?”
“No.”
Serena’s answer came immediately.
“I’m saying he watched her die.”
Dominic stared at her.
“She collapsed during an argument. He could have called an ambulance sooner.”
“How do you know?”
“I was there.”
The floor seemed to move beneath him.
“You were in my house twelve years ago?”
“In the garden room.”
“Why?”
“Elena had contacted me. She was finally going to tell me where Lily was.”
Serena’s voice broke.
“Anthony followed me.”
Dominic thought of his mother dying alone.
Except she hadn’t been alone.
Another lie.
Another carefully constructed memory falling apart.
His phone vibrated.
Marco.
“Boss, we found the car Lily was supposed to take north.”
“Where?”
“Lake Forest.”
Dominic’s eyes lifted.
“Where in Lake Forest?”
A pause.
“Your house.”
Clara’s house.
Their house.
Dominic turned toward the recovery room.
Serena stood.
“I told you.”
Dominic ignored her.
“Marco, get there now.”
“We’re two minutes out.”
Then another message arrived.
A photograph from the home security feed.
A young woman stood inside Dominic’s kitchen.
Brown hair.
Gray sweatshirt.
Backpack over one shoulder.
Confused rather than frightened.
Beside her was Anthony Valente.
His supposedly dead father had one hand resting gently on her shoulder.
On the kitchen counter lay a child’s drawing Dominic recognized immediately.
He had drawn it himself when he was eight.
A house.
Three stick figures.
His mother.
His father.
Him.
Except someone had added a fourth figure in fresh black ink.
A little girl.
May you like
Underneath, Anthony had written:
FAMILY SHOULD KNOW WHO THEY BELONG TO.
