Chapter 5 - THE NIGHT THE HOUSE WENT DARK
The darkness lasted eleven seconds.
It felt like eleven minutes.
“Claire!”
“I’m here.”
Her answer came from somewhere behind me.
I moved toward her voice.
A crash sounded near the library doors.
Marco shouted.
Security flashlights snapped on.
Someone screamed upstairs.
Then the emergency power kicked in.
The lights returned.
Claire stood near the fireplace with one hand over her stomach.
I reached her in two steps.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Stay with Dr. Chen.”
“I’m not a child.”
“I know.”
“Then stop talking to me like one.”
Even terrified, she was still Claire.
That somehow helped.
Marco’s men searched the house.
Callahan radioed officers outside.
The outage had been deliberate.
The exterior power junction had been tampered with.
No one had entered.
At least not that we could prove.
But someone had used the blackout to destroy something.
Gabriel’s leather case lay open on the floor.
One folder was missing.
“The settlement records,” he said.
Callahan swore.
My mother stared toward the hallway.
“She knows.”
I turned to her.
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“Who knows what?”
Mother pressed both hands against her face.
For the first time in my life, Alessandra DeLuca looked old.
“Dominic was never supposed to become this.”
“That sentence explains nothing.”
She lowered her hands.
“His father was your father’s cousin.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Her eyes met mine.
“You know what we told you.”
The room became quiet.
“My father helped raise Dominic after his parents died.”
“That’s the story.”
“What’s the truth?”
Mother looked at Claire.
Then back at me.
“Dominic’s father didn’t die in an accident.”
I waited.
“He stole from your father.”
Marco leaned against the desk.
“How much?”
“Enough that men who had invested with your father wanted blood.”
I felt Claire watching me.
Mother continued.
“Your father protected Dominic because Dominic was a child. He sent the boy away to school and paid for everything.”
“And?”
“Dominic grew up believing your father killed his father.”
My chest tightened.
“Did he?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then who told Dominic he did?”
Mother closed her eyes.
“I did.”
The silence was absolute.
“You?”
“I was angry.”
“About what?”
“Your father was going to bring Dominic into the family business.”
I stared at her.
“You poisoned a child against my father because you didn’t want him sharing our name?”
“I told him things I should not have.”
“That’s a beautiful way to describe it.”
“Roman—”
“You spent decades telling me family was sacred.”
“I was protecting you.”
“No.”
I looked around the room.
“You people keep using that word when you mean controlling.”
Claire’s eyes met mine.
I knew she heard the echo.
Protecting you.
That was what I had told myself when I divorced her without trusting her with the truth.
I wasn’t so different from my mother as I wanted to believe.
That realization hurt.
Callahan interrupted.
“What did Ms. Bennett discover about Dominic?”
Mother sank into the chair again.
“The shell companies.”
“We know that.”
“No. Not everything.”
She looked toward Claire.
“When Claire started asking questions, Dominic panicked.”
Claire frowned.
“Why?”
“Because those companies weren’t only stealing foundation money.”
Mother swallowed.
“They were buying ownership interests in Roman’s restaurants.”
I stared at her.
“Through whose shares?”
“Minority partners. Silent investors. Debt acquisitions.”
Gabriel cursed.
The structure became clear.
Dominic wasn’t simply stealing.
He was positioning himself.
Quietly.
Slowly.
By the time anyone noticed, he could have gained leverage over half my legitimate businesses.
Claire understood first.
“He wanted Roman financially weakened.”
Mother nodded.
“And isolated.”
My stomach turned.
“The threat photographs.”
“Dominic arranged them.”
Claire went white.
I had known it was possible.
Hearing it confirmed was different.
“He paid men to follow her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
Mother’s silence answered.
I slammed my palm against the desk.
Claire flinched.
I immediately stepped back.
“Sorry.”
She stared at me.
Not afraid.
Just sad.
That was worse.
Mother whispered, “He said you would never let Claire go voluntarily.”
“So you helped him terrorize my wife.”
“I believed separation would make her safe.”
I laughed.
The sound was ugly.
“You believed exactly what you needed to believe.”
Mother’s mouth trembled.
“Dominic told me Claire would destroy everything.”
“She was trying to stop him stealing from us.”
“I know that now.”
“When did you know?”
Silence.
“When?”
“Before the divorce was finalized.”
The room tilted.
“You knew.”
“I had doubts.”
“You knew enough.”
“Yes.”
“And you still helped keep Claire away.”
Mother began crying.
Claire looked at her with an expression that held no sympathy.
I couldn’t blame her.
“Why?” Claire asked.
Mother looked at her.
The answer came quietly.
“Because Roman chose you.”
Claire frowned.
Mother continued.
“Before you, I was the person he called before every major decision. I knew where he was. I knew what he planned. I knew who mattered.”
My skin crawled.
“And after you married him, he changed.”
Claire’s face hardened.
“He became happy.”
Mother’s tears fell.
“He became someone who didn’t need me.”
There it was.
Not protection.
Not family honor.
Possession.
I had spent years thinking my mother’s interference came from tradition.
It came from fear of losing control.
“You intercepted the pregnancy because you thought a child would bring Claire back.”
Mother looked down.
“Yes.”
I couldn’t speak for several seconds.
Claire did.
“You let me starve.”
“I didn’t know how bad things were.”
“You stole my settlement.”
“I did not steal it.”
“You signed documents.”
“Dominic told me the money would be held until you stopped investigating.”
Claire stared at her.
“You believed him?”
“No.”
Mother’s voice became almost inaudible.
“I chose not to ask.”
That sentence destroyed whatever remained between them.
Callahan stepped forward.
“Mrs. DeLuca, I need you to come with us.”
My mother looked at me.
“You’re letting them take me?”
I thought of Claire counting thirty-eight dollars outside a pharmacy.
I thought of our child growing inside a body that hadn’t been properly fed.
I thought of nine letters hidden in a car trunk.
“Yes.”
Mother’s face collapsed.
“I’m your mother.”
I looked at her for a long time.
“And Claire was my wife.”
No one spoke.
“They took her from this house with nothing,” I continued. “You watched it happen. Then when she tried to tell me she was carrying my child, you made sure I remained ignorant.”
“I was afraid.”
“So was she.”
Officers escorted my mother out.
I didn’t watch her leave.
I turned toward Claire.
Her face had gone pale.
Dr. Chen immediately approached.
“Sit down.”
“I’m okay.”
“Claire.”
“I said I’m—”
Her knees buckled.
I caught her.
Every thought vanished.
“Claire!”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not.”
“Roman.”
Her fingers clutched my shirt.
Her eyes filled with terror.
“Something’s wrong.”
Dr. Chen was already checking her.
“What do you feel?”
Claire pressed a hand low against her abdomen.
“Pain.”
“How bad?”
“Getting worse.”
The entire room disappeared around me.
Within minutes we were in the back of an ambulance headed toward Northwestern.
I held Claire’s hand because she refused to let go.
Neither of us spoke until the hospital lights appeared ahead.
Then Claire turned her face toward me.
“There’s something I never told you.”
“Save your strength.”
“No.”
Her fingers tightened.
“You need to know now.”
I leaned closer.
Her eyes held mine.
“The baby is yours.”
My throat closed.
“I know.”
“No, Roman.”
Tears slid down her cheeks.
“I know exactly when it happened.”
The ambulance turned sharply.
Claire winced.
“Two weeks after you told me the divorce was final, you came to my apartment.”
The memory hit me.
Rain.
Whiskey.
A fight.
A kiss that became a night neither of us could pretend meant nothing.
I closed my eyes.
Claire whispered, “I found out four weeks later.”
I touched my forehead to her hand.
Then a monitor beside Dr. Chen changed rhythm.
Dr. Chen’s expression sharpened.
“Claire, look at me.”
“What?”
Another alarm sounded.
“Stay awake.”
May you like
Claire’s fingers suddenly went loose inside mine.
And for the second time that night, I heard someone shout for a doctor while the woman I loved stopped answering me.
