Chapter 3 - THE MAN BENEATH THE MUSTACHE
“Pull over.”
Damian kept driving.
“Ma'am, we're almost at—”
“I said pull over.”
Something in Elena's voice made him obey immediately.
The taxi stopped beside a quiet stretch of Lincoln Park.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Elena leaned forward.
“Take off your sunglasses.”
Damian closed his eyes.
“Elena—”
She went completely still.
Slowly, he removed the sunglasses.
Then the baseball cap.
Finally, the fake mustache.
Elena stared at him.
Her face went pale.
“You.”
Damian turned toward her.
“I can explain.”
She laughed.
It was not a happy sound.
“My husband. The great Damian Russo. Driving around Chicago wearing a fake mustache.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“Then you should have talked to me!”
A passing cyclist glanced toward the taxi.
Elena lowered her voice.
“You let me tell you about losing our baby.”
Damian's face tightened.
“I know.”
“You sat there pretending to be a stranger while I told you the most painful thing I've ever experienced.”
“I didn't know you felt that alone.”
“You would have known if you'd asked!”
Damian had faced men who threatened his life.
He had walked into rooms where everyone wanted something from him.
But he had never felt as helpless as he did looking into his wife's eyes.
“Elena, please.”
“No. You don't get to say please and make everything better.”
She opened the taxi door.
Damian reached toward her.
“Wait.”
She turned.
“Don't touch me.”
His hand fell.
“I was afraid,” he admitted.
“Of what?”
“Of losing you.”
Elena looked at his disguise.
“So you decided to lie to me?”
He had no answer.
She stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Here's something you should understand, Damian. You can't keep someone beside you by making sure they never have a chance to leave.”
She removed her wedding ring.
Damian went cold.
But she didn't throw it.
She placed it carefully inside her purse.
“I'm not filing for divorce today,” she said. “But I need to remember who I am when you're not standing beside me.”
Then she walked away.
Damian stayed behind the wheel.
For the first time in years, he did not order anyone to follow her.
Not because he wasn't worried.
Because she had asked him not to.
At the Lantern House, Elena found Marisol Vega standing beside a table covered with paperwork.
Marisol was forty-two, a former nursing assistant who had helped Elena run the center for three years.
She took one look at Elena's face.
“What happened?”
“My husband happened.”
Marisol raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds expensive.”
Despite everything, Elena almost smiled.
Then she noticed the boxes stacked along the wall.
“Why are those packed?”
“An inspector came this morning. He said we might have to empty the building before Friday.”
“Friday?”
Marisol nodded.
“And there's something else.”
She pulled a document from a folder.
Elena recognized the Lantern House letterhead.
Beneath it was a title.
Authorization for Property Transfer.
Elena scanned the first paragraph.
Then the second.
Her mouth went dry.
The document stated that she had voluntarily approved the transfer of the property to Riverside Fleet Holdings.
At the bottom was her signature.
“Elena Russo.”
She stared.
“That's not possible.”
Marisol frowned.
“Is the signature wrong?”
“No. It looks exactly like mine.”
“Then what's wrong?”
“I never signed this.”
Marisol sat down.
“Are you certain?”
“Of course I'm certain!”
Elena examined the document.
There was a date beside the signature.
November 14.
Last year.
Her hands began trembling.
Marisol noticed.
“Elena?”
She couldn't speak.
Because she remembered November 14.
She remembered the white hospital walls.
The nurse who had held her hand.
The tiny bracelet removed from her wrist before she went home.
She remembered calling Damian again and again.
That was the night she lost their baby.
And according to the document in front of her, at 2:12 that morning, she had electronically authorized the sale of the Lantern House.
Marisol reached for her hand.
“Elena, what's wrong?”
Elena looked up.
“Someone used my name while I was lying in a hospital bed.”
Marisol examined the bottom of the page.
“Wait. There's another authorization here.”
“Whose?”
Marisol turned the paper around.
A second electronic signature appeared beneath Elena's.
The approving officer was listed as Gabriel Mercer.
Damian's most trusted business adviser.
May you like
The man who had stood beside Damian at their wedding.
And the only person besides Damian who knew exactly what had happened at the hospital that night.
