Chapter 2 - The Woman Waiting Behind the Locked Door
The gates of the Varelli estate opened before Dominic’s SUV slowed.
Rain hammered the windshield as the vehicle climbed the long drive toward the stone mansion overlooking Narragansett Bay.
Dominic said nothing.
Carlo knew better than to fill silence simply because it existed.
His phone remained pressed to his ear as he coordinated with Dominic’s attorney, St. Francis Academy, and two detectives Dominic trusted because neither owed the Varelli family money.
“School confirmed Eli left twenty minutes ago,” Carlo finally said.
Dominic’s gaze shifted.
“With whom?”
“Marin’s neighbor. Regular pickup arrangement. School has the authorization.”
“Find them.”
“Already did. Patrol unit is heading there.”
Dominic nodded once.
The SUV stopped.
Before the driver could open his door, Dominic was outside.
He entered through the side corridor rather than the main foyer.
No staff announcement.
No raised voices.
He wanted Vivien comfortable.
Comfortable people made mistakes.
The mansion seemed almost peaceful.
A fire burned in the library.
Someone had arranged white roses throughout the entrance hall for tomorrow’s engagement dinner.
Dominic passed them without looking.
“Where is Miss Morrow?” he asked a housekeeper.
“Mrs. Varelli’s sitting room, sir. Or she was ten minutes ago.”
“And Marin?”
The housekeeper hesitated.
“I thought she was with Mrs. Varelli.”
Dominic stopped.
“You thought?”
The woman paled.
“Miss Morrow dismissed the afternoon staff from that wing.”
Carlo looked at Dominic.
Dominic was already moving.
Isabella’s rooms occupied the eastern side of the second floor. Dominic had redesigned the suite after her stroke—wide doors, medical equipment hidden behind walnut cabinetry, emergency call buttons within reach of every chair.
The first thing Dominic noticed was the silence.
No oxygen concentrator.
He pushed open the sitting-room door.
Empty.
The writing board lay on the floor.
Its wooden frame had cracked.
Dominic crouched and picked it up.
Carlo appeared behind him.
“Boss.”
Dominic held up one hand.
On the carpet beside Isabella’s chair lay a small pearl.
Vivien’s earrings had pearls.
But so did half the women in Newport.
He stood.
“Mother?”
No answer.
He checked the bedroom.
Empty.
Bathroom.
Empty.
Then he saw Isabella’s wheelchair near the terrace doors.
His mother could walk short distances with assistance.
She could not have gone far alone.
“Lock the property,” Dominic said.
Carlo reached for his radio.
“No one leaves.”
Dominic entered the hall and began opening doors.
The third was locked.
A linen storage room.
He knocked once.
“Marin?”
Nothing.
Then—
A faint sound.
Three taps.
Dominic stepped back.
“Open it.”
Carlo tried the handle.
“Key?”
Dominic kicked beside the lock.
Wood splintered.
The door flew inward.
Marin stood between shelves of folded sheets, one arm around Isabella’s waist.
Isabella was trembling.
Marin’s cheek was red.
Her lower lip had split.
Dominic went completely still.
Marin looked at him.
For the first time since she began working in his house, she looked genuinely frightened of him.
Not because he had hurt her.
Because she had no idea what he knew.
“Mr. Varelli—”
“Where is Vivien?”
Marin’s eyes moved toward Isabella.
Dominic crossed the room and knelt before his mother.
“Ma.”
Isabella touched his cheek.
Her fingers shook.
Then she pointed at Marin.
“Safe,” Dominic said. “Eli too.”
Marin froze.
“How do you know about Eli?”
Dominic met her eyes.
“I heard the call.”
The color disappeared from her face.
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
Marin closed her eyes.
Something between relief and horror passed through her.
Dominic helped Isabella into a chair.
“Did Vivien hit you?”
Marin shook her head.
“Not exactly.”
“Exactly matters.”
“She grabbed the board from your mother. I tried to take it back. She shoved me.”
Dominic looked at the split lip.
“And that?”
“I hit the shelf.”
Isabella struck the chair arm once.
No.
Dominic looked at her.
His mother pointed at Marin, then made a fist.
“She hit her?”
Two taps.
Yes.
Marin exhaled.
“Mrs. Varelli—”
Dominic stood.
“Why protect Vivien?”
“I’m not protecting her.”
“You just lied.”
“I’m protecting what happens next.”
That answer stopped him.
Marin looked toward Carlo.
“Can we speak privately?”
“No,” Dominic said. “Anything involving my mother or your son involves Carlo.”
Marin swallowed.
“There’s more.”
Dominic waited.
“Vivien has been asking questions about your mother’s trust.”
His expression did not change.
“What questions?”
“How much she controls. What happens if she dies before your wedding. Whether her voting shares transfer directly to you.”
Carlo’s face hardened.
Dominic’s family holdings were complicated by design.
His father had built legitimate shipping, construction, and property businesses beside enterprises Dominic had spent years quietly dismantling.
Isabella still controlled twenty-six percent of Varelli Holdings.
Enough to stop major transfers.
Enough to prevent certain assets from being sold.
Enough to make her approval inconvenient to anyone with ambitions.
“How long?” Dominic asked.
“Six weeks.”
“And you said nothing?”
“I told your attorney.”
Dominic glanced at Carlo.
Carlo shook his head.
Marin reached into her cardigan.
“Not Mr. Bell.”
She produced a folded envelope.
“I told Daniel Price.”
Dominic recognized the name.
Junior counsel.
Thirty-one.
Meticulous.
Recently absent from work because, according to Bell, he had taken emergency leave.
Dominic unfolded the paper.
Inside was a photocopy of a handwritten note.
The writing was shaky.
His mother’s.
Vivien knows about Anthony.
Dominic read it twice.
The room changed.
Anthony Varelli had been Dominic’s younger brother.
Dead eleven years.
A car accident on Ocean Drive.
At least that was what Dominic had believed.
“Where did this come from?”
“Your mother wrote it three days ago.”
“Why didn’t you bring it to me?”
“I tried.”
Marin’s voice sharpened for the first time.
“You canceled twice. Then Mr. Bell told me your mother was confused and that I should stop encouraging her paranoia.”
Carlo cursed under his breath.
Dominic folded the note.
“Where’s the original?”
Marin looked at Isabella.
Isabella slowly lifted her hand and pointed toward her bedroom.
Dominic followed.
Inside, Isabella tapped the side of her old mahogany desk.
Dominic crouched.
There was a narrow compartment beneath the lowest drawer.
He had never noticed it.
Carlo pulled it open.
Empty.
Marin stared.
“No.”
“What was inside?” Dominic asked.
“A journal,” she said. “And a flash drive.”
“When did you last see them?”
“This morning.”
Dominic looked toward the doorway.
A voice floated from the hall.
“Darling?”
Vivien.
She entered wearing cream trousers, a cashmere sweater, and the same serene expression she wore in charity photographs.
Then she saw the broken storage-room door.
Her smile faltered.
“Dominic. You’re early.”
His gaze dropped to her earrings.
Only one pearl remained.
Vivien noticed.
Her hand moved instinctively toward the empty setting.
Dominic opened his palm.
The missing pearl rested there.
Nobody spoke.
Then Vivien smiled again.
“You look upset.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“I am.”
“About what?”
He could have played the recording.
Could have ended everything immediately.
Instead, Dominic remembered his mother’s note.
Vivien knows about Anthony.
He closed his fist around the pearl.
“Tomorrow’s dinner.”
Vivien studied him.
“What about it?”
“We’re making a change.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Dominic slipped an arm around his mother.
“Tomorrow night, before two hundred witnesses, my mother is going to tell everyone exactly what she thinks of our marriage.”
Vivien’s face remained perfect.
Almost.
For one second, Dominic saw fear.
Then her phone buzzed.
She glanced down.
A message.
Dominic could not see the sender.
But he saw the first line.
HE KNOWS ABOUT THE RECORDING. GET THE DRIVE TONIGHT.
Vivien immediately turned the screen away.
Dominic said nothing.
Because there was only one problem with the message.
He had told no one outside the SUV about the recording.
May you like
Which meant someone inside his own security operation had already betrayed him.
And whoever it was knew exactly what Isabella had hidden.
