Chapter 3 - Dominic Learned the Secretary He Thought He Had Hired Was Actually the Niece He Had Spent Twenty Years Believing Was DeadDominic didn't sleep.
Neither did Clara.
They sat in the library until dawn.
The photographs were spread across the table.
Elena.
Matteo.
A little girl.
Joseph Hale.
And a fifth photograph.
Clara's mother.
Dominic studied her face.
“I knew your mother.”
Clara stared.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She worked for my father.”
“As what?”
“Translator.”
Clara went silent.
“My father was a translator too.”
Dominic frowned.
“Then you inherited it.”
“Inherited what?”
“Languages.”
She looked surprised.
“How did you know I speak French?”
“You once translated a contract I'd been given incorrectly.”
“I was trying to be helpful.”
“You translated three pages while waiting for coffee.”
She smiled faintly.
Dominic continued.
“Your mother was fluent in five languages.”
“My mother never taught me.”
“She didn't have to.”
Clara looked at the photographs.
“What happened twenty-three years ago?”
Dominic answered slowly.
“Elena discovered that someone inside the family was planning to take control.”
“Who?”
“Matteo believed our father was corrupt.”
“Was he?”
“Yes.”
Clara looked at him.
“So your family was fighting.”
“Constantly.”
“What did Elena want?”
“To leave.”
“Did she?”
“She tried.”
“And the fire?”
Dominic nodded.
“She was supposed to disappear.”
Clara stared.
“Why would your family do that?”
“Because my father wanted her quiet.”
“Did he know about the baby?”
“Yes.”
“Me?”
Dominic hesitated.
“We believe so.”
Clara looked away.
“My mother told me I was born in another city.”
“She lied.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe to protect you.”
Clara laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
Dominic didn't answer.
That afternoon, Joseph Hale was found.
Alive.
Wounded.
He was brought to the estate.
Clara stood in the doorway while Dominic questioned him.
“Tell me the truth.”
Joseph looked at Clara.
“She has her mother's eyes.”
Dominic's voice hardened.
“What happened that night?”
Joseph sighed.
“Elena was trying to escape.”
“With the baby?”
“Yes.”
“Who attacked her?”
“Your father.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“My father killed my sister.”
“Yes.”
“Then why was the child taken?”
Joseph looked at Clara.
“Because your father wanted her.”
“Why?”
“She was the only heir to your mother's trust.”
Dominic frowned.
“What trust?”
“Your mother left assets outside the family.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Clara stepped closer.
“What did my mother leave?”
Joseph hesitated.
“A company.”
“What company?”
“Bennett International.”
Clara froze.
Her mother's maiden name.
She thought it had been a small translation agency.
It wasn't.
It was a logistics company worth millions.
The inheritance had been hidden.
Clara had spent her life thinking her mother had been poor.
She had never been.
She had been hiding.
From the Mercers.
From the Romani.
From everyone.
Joseph continued.
“Your mother trusted me.”
“Why?”
“I was supposed to get you out.”
“But someone stopped you.”
Joseph nodded.
“Matteo.”
Dominic stared.
“My brother?”
“Matteo changed his mind.”
“Why?”
“He loved Elena.”
“Then why?”
Joseph looked at Clara.
“Because he thought protecting the child meant leaving her with people who could make her disappear.”
Dominic shook his head.
“That makes no sense.”
“It didn't then.”
“What happened?”
“Matteo took the baby.”
“Where?”
“Safe house.”
“Which one?”
Joseph looked at Dominic.
“The place no one would search.”
“What?”
“Your own house.”
Dominic froze.
“What?”
Joseph nodded.
“Matteo hid his daughter inside the estate.”
Clara stared.
“You’re saying I lived here?”
“For six months.”
Dominic looked sick.
He had been living in the same home.
Walking the same corridors.
Not knowing his niece was upstairs.
Then the fire started.
Someone tried to kill everyone.
Matteo disappeared.
Elena died.
Clara was taken by her mother.
And Dominic was told she had died.
Joseph looked at him.
“Your father wanted you to believe the child was dead.”
“Why?”
“Because you were the only person who might have protected her.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
His father had known.
He had manipulated Dominic's grief.
Used him.
Kept him ignorant.
For twenty years.
Clara turned to him.
“You didn't know.”
“No.”
“Do you believe me?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then said:
“I believe you.”
The words mattered more than Dominic expected.
Because for the first time in his life, he realized he had something to lose that had nothing to do with power.
Family.
His own family.
He wanted to tell her he was sorry.
But an alarm sounded.
Marco rushed in.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found a second vehicle from the attack.”
“And?”
“It belongs to someone inside the organization.”
Dominic's expression hardened.
“Who?”
Marco whispered:
“Your closest adviser.”
Dominic knew the name before he heard it.
Richard Kane.
The man who had worked beside him for nineteen years.
The man who had been like a second father.
The man who had watched Dominic bury his family.
Richard was the traitor.
But when Dominic confronted him, Richard smiled.
“You finally found her.”
Dominic stared.
“How long have you known?”
“Twenty years.”
“Why did you let me believe she was dead?”
“Because your father wanted it.”
“My father is dead.”
Richard smiled.
“Is he?”
Dominic froze.
Richard stepped closer.
“You've been hunting the wrong enemy.”
“What does that mean?”
Richard looked at Clara.
“Ask your uncle.”
Clara's eyes widened.
“Which uncle?”
Richard smiled.
“The one you were told died the night of the fire.”
Dominic turned.
There was only one.
May you like
Matteo.
Alive.
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