Chapter 5 - THE DEAD MAN’S CONFESSION
Dominic hit the concrete with Marin beneath him.
A second shot shattered the hanging lamp.
Darkness swallowed half the warehouse.
Police sirens erupted outside.
Bell shouted something from the catwalk.
Nolan grabbed Eli.
Marin screamed.
Dominic rolled behind a steel column and pulled her with him.
“Stay down.”
“My son—”
“I see him.”
Emergency lights flashed red along the walls.
Nolan dragged Eli toward a rear door.
Dominic moved.
Marin caught his sleeve.
“Bring him back.”
Dominic looked at her.
“I will.”
Then he disappeared into the darkness.
He crossed behind machinery as another shot struck concrete.
Carlo’s voice came through his earpiece.
“Shooter east catwalk. Tactical team entering south.”
“Bell?”
“Moving north.”
“Vivien?”
“Lost visual.”
Dominic reached the rear corridor.
Nolan was twenty feet ahead.
Eli fought him.
The boy kicked backward.
Nolan cursed.
That second was enough.
Dominic slammed into him.
All three crashed against the wall.
Nolan reached for a gun.
Dominic trapped his wrist.
Eli crawled away.
“Run!”
The boy ran.
Nolan drove an elbow into Dominic’s ribs.
Dominic answered with one brutal punch.
Then another.
Nolan collapsed.
Dominic could have continued.
Eleven years of grief demanded it.
But Eli stood ten feet away watching.
Dominic stopped.
He kicked the gun aside.
“Come here.”
Eli ran into him.
Dominic lifted the boy.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
“Sure?”
Eli nodded against his shoulder.
Dominic carried him back.
Marin saw them and broke.
She ran forward.
Eli jumped into her arms.
She dropped to her knees, kissing his hair, cheeks, forehead.
Dominic turned away.
Some moments belonged to families.
Then Isabella’s voice entered his memory.
Threatened you.
His mother had sacrificed truth to keep him alive.
And Marin had walked into a warehouse because no threat could keep her from her son.
Perhaps that was what family actually meant.
Not blood.
Not names.
The person you walked toward when every sensible instinct told you to run.
“Bell escaped,” Carlo said.
Dominic looked up.
“Vivien?”
“Police have her.”
Vivien stood near the entrance with her hands cuffed.
Her expensive cream sweater was streaked with warehouse dust.
She looked at Dominic.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
He walked toward her.
“You threatened a child.”
“You think this is about a child?”
“No.”
Dominic stopped inches away.
“But that was the part you should have understood would end you.”
Her expression twisted.
“You’re protecting that woman now?”
Dominic did not answer.
Vivien laughed bitterly.
“You always did like broken things.”
Marin heard.
Dominic’s voice dropped.
“Take her out.”
Police escorted Vivien away.
Carlo approached.
“Flash drive?”
Dominic checked his pocket.
Gone.
His stomach dropped.
Nolan.
They searched him.
Nothing.
Bell had it.
Or Vivien.
Then Eli tugged Dominic’s sleeve.
“I have it.”
Everyone looked down.
Eli opened his fist.
The flash drive lay in his palm.
Dominic stared.
“How?”
“When you fought the bad man, it fell out.”
Marin almost laughed through her tears.
Dominic crouched.
“You picked it up?”
Eli nodded.
“Mom says important things shouldn’t stay on the floor.”
For the first time that night, Dominic smiled.
“Your mother is usually right.”
“Usually?”
Marin raised an eyebrow.
“Careful.”
Two hours later, inside a secure conference room at the estate, Carlo placed an isolated laptop on the table.
Dominic inserted the drive.
Folders appeared.
Financial records.
Scanned contracts.
Bank transfers.
Photographs.
Audio files.
Anthony had collected everything.
The final folder contained one video.
Dated eleven years earlier.
Dominic clicked it.
His younger brother appeared on-screen.
Twenty-four years old.
Alive.
Dominic forgot how to breathe.
Anthony sat in what looked like a hotel room.
“If you’re watching this,” he said, “something happened to me.”
Dominic gripped the table.
Marin sat silently beside him.
Anthony continued.
“Bell and Charles Morrow have been stealing from the company for years.”
Documents appeared in Anthony’s hands.
“They’re using Dad’s old offshore structure to hide it, so if anyone discovers the money, it looks like Dad authorized everything.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“I confronted Bell yesterday.”
Anthony looked frightened.
“I shouldn’t have.”
The video skipped.
Then Anthony said something Dominic would remember forever.
“Dom, if anything happens to me, don’t trust Samuel Bell.”
A pause.
“And don’t trust anyone Charles Morrow sends into your life.”
Dominic looked toward the door through which police had taken Vivien.
Anthony continued.
“There’s something else.”
He held up a birth certificate.
Dominic frowned.
“The theft wasn’t their only secret.”
Anthony moved the paper toward the camera.
The name became visible.
VIVIEN ISABEL MORROW.
Father:
SAMUEL EDWARD BELL.
Carlo swore.
Vivien was Bell’s daughter.
Not Charles Morrow’s.
Anthony continued.
“Charles raised her because Bell was married and because the arrangement protected both families.”
Dominic felt sick.
His engagement had never been romantic coincidence.
Bell had placed his own daughter beside him.
Anthony leaned toward the camera.
“If Bell ever gets close to the family again, he’s not coming back for money.”
The recording flickered.
“He’s coming back for control.”
Suddenly the mansion alarm screamed.
Carlo stood.
A guard’s voice erupted through the radio.
“Fire in the east wing!”
Dominic’s blood froze.
Isabella.
They ran.
Smoke rolled down the second-floor hallway.
Dominic reached his mother’s suite.
The door was locked from inside.
“Ma!”
He rammed it.
Nothing.
Carlo attacked the lock.
Marin screamed Isabella’s name.
Then Dominic saw something through the smoke.
Written across the wall in black paint.
Three words.
ANTHONY DIED FIRST.
Below them:
May you like
ISABELLA DIES TONIGHT.
And from behind the locked door came three desperate taps.
