Chapter 7 - The Night He Almost Lost HerThe first thing Harper heard was the sound of someone pounding on the glass door.
The second was Evelyn Brooks shouting, “Get away from my employee!”
Harper stumbled backward into the restoration studio.
Her phone slipped from her hand and struck the concrete floor.
Outside, a heavyset man in a black jacket was pulling at the locked door.
He had followed her across the street.
At first, she'd thought he wanted directions.
Then he'd called her by name.
“Harper Hayes!”
She'd turned.
He'd reached into his jacket.
And she'd run.
Now he stood outside the glass, his face twisted with anger.
“Open the door!”
Evelyn stepped beside Harper.
“Police are coming!”
The man glanced toward the street.
For one hopeful second, Harper thought he would leave.
Instead, he held something against the glass.
A photograph.
Her father's photograph.
The same picture Simon Caldwell had given her at dinner.
Harper went still.
The man shouted, “My employer wants the original files!”
Evelyn looked at Harper.
“What files?”
Harper shook her head.
“Don't open the door.”
The man's expression changed.
He put the photograph away.
Then he took a metal tool from his coat.
Evelyn immediately triggered the building's alarm.
A shrill siren filled the studio.
The man struck the door once.
The glass fractured near the lock.
Harper backed toward the interior hallway.
Her heart hammered so violently she thought she might faint.
Then, through the alarm, she heard something else.
Police sirens.
The man heard them, too.
He turned.
Ran toward the SUV.
And disappeared around the corner.
Seconds later, two officers approached the building.
Evelyn unlocked the door only after confirming who they were.
Harper sank onto a stool.
Her hands were trembling.
She'd never been so frightened.
Not because someone had shouted at her.
Not even because he'd tried to break the door.
Because he'd known exactly who she was.
Exactly where to find her.
And exactly what her father had hidden.
Dominic reached the studio twenty minutes later.
By then, the police had already secured the scene.
Officers were taking statements.
The damaged door had been photographed.
A neighboring business had provided security footage showing the black SUV and part of its license plate.
Harper sat beside Evelyn, wrapped in a wool blanket.
She looked up when Dominic entered.
For one moment, his composure disappeared.
He crossed the room.
Stopped in front of her.
And knelt.
“Are you hurt?”
Harper shook her head.
“I'm okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He looked at her hands.
They were still shaking.
“Harper.”
She tried to smile.
“You look worse than I do.”
He didn't laugh.
His face had gone pale.
“I heard the call disconnect.”
“My phone fell.”
“I thought—”
He stopped.
For the first time since she'd met him, Dominic Russo seemed unable to finish a sentence.
Harper leaned forward.
“Dominic.”
His eyes met hers.
“I'm here.”
He swallowed.
“I know.”
She reached for his hand.
He held it as though it were the only solid thing in the world.
Around them, police officers continued their work.
Gideon quietly spoke with one of the investigators.
Evelyn brought Harper a cup of tea.
But for several seconds, Harper and Dominic remained in their own small silence.
Then Dominic spoke.
“I was afraid I'd lost you.”
Harper looked at him.
He continued, his voice rough.
“When your phone went dead, I couldn't think.”
She squeezed his hand.
“I'm okay.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I'm trying to believe it.”
Harper almost smiled.
Then she noticed something in his expression.
Anger.
Not directed at her.
But frightening in its intensity.
“Dominic.”
“Yes?”
“Don't do something stupid.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“Don't go after Carlo and turn this into a war.”
His jaw tightened.
“Harper—”
“Promise me.”
He said nothing.
She continued.
“My father believed in proving the truth. He wasn't trying to start a fight between two powerful men.”
Dominic looked toward the damaged door.
“I know.”
“Then don't make me spend another eight years trying to understand why someone I care about disappeared.”
The words struck him.
He looked back.
Harper's eyes filled with tears.
“I can't lose you, too.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
For a moment, he looked utterly exhausted.
Then he nodded.
“I won't go looking for a fight.”
She watched him.
“Promise?”
“I promise I'll handle this through the investigation and the law. I'll protect myself and cooperate with the police.”
Harper released a shaky breath.
“Thank you.”
He stood.
Then paused.
“Can I ask you something?”
She looked up.
“Of course.”
“When this is over, when you're safe and this investigation isn't hanging over us... would you consider going to dinner with me?”
Harper stared.
Of all the questions Dominic Russo could have asked at that moment, she hadn't expected that one.
“A date?”
He gave a small, nervous smile.
“Yes.”
She blinked.
“Dominic Russo is asking me on a date?”
“Apparently.”
“The man who interrogated me about an investment banker?”
He winced.
“I wasn't proud of that.”
“You asked how old he was.”
“I remember.”
“And what he did for a living.”
“Yes.”
“And whether he was trustworthy.”
“I may have been jealous.”
Harper stared at him.
Then she laughed.
A real laugh.
The sound made him smile.
But she eventually grew serious.
“Dominic, I can't answer that right now.”
His smile faded, but he nodded immediately.
“Okay.”
“I want to. That's the problem.”
He watched her.
“But I need to know who you are when all of this is over. Not who you are when you're trying to protect me.”
Dominic looked at their joined hands.
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Harper swallowed.
“Then ask me again when we both know what kind of future we're actually offering each other.”
He nodded.
“I will.”
And for the first time, Dominic realized love wasn't about convincing someone to stay.
It was about becoming someone they could freely choose.
The police identified the SUV that evening.
It was registered to a company called North Harbor Protective Services.
On paper, the business provided event security and commercial transportation.
In practice, it had received substantial payments from firms associated with Carlo Russo.
The man who approached Harper was identified as Marcus Velez.
He had a history of assault charges.
Investigators found him two days later.
By then, the attempted break-in and threats had been recorded on multiple cameras.
Velez refused to identify his employer.
But the photographs and payment records gave investigators new leads.
And the incident had an unexpected consequence.
It persuaded a frightened former warehouse employee to come forward.
His name was Raymond Santos.
He'd worked the evening shift at Crestline in June 2018.
For eight years, he'd lived in Michigan.
He'd changed jobs.
Changed telephone numbers.
And avoided speaking about the fire.
Now he contacted Maya Chen.
He wanted to make a statement.
Harper traveled to a secure interview room to meet him, accompanied by her attorney.
Raymond was fifty-four, thin, with graying hair and a pale scar stretching across his left forearm.
He sat across from Harper without meeting her eyes.
“I knew your father,” he said.
Harper's throat tightened.
“Were you friends?”
Raymond shook his head.
“Not really. But he was decent to us.”
He rubbed his scar.
“Most office people didn't come down to the warehouse unless there was a problem. Peter did. He asked whether the heat worked. Whether we were getting paid overtime. Whether anyone had reported the sprinkler trouble.”
Harper smiled sadly.
“That sounds like him.”
Raymond looked down.
“I should've spoken sooner.”
Maya leaned forward.
“Tell us what you remember.”
Raymond took a breath.
“The night of the fire, Peter came to Crestline carrying a document case. He argued with Frank Delaney near the loading dock.”
“About what?”
“Something involving the records room. Peter said he needed to take documents to an investigator.”
Harper's heart began pounding.
Raymond continued.
“Delaney told him he wasn't leaving until he spoke to Mr. Russo.”
“Which Mr. Russo?” Maya asked.
“Carlo.”
Harper felt sick.
“What happened next?”
“Peter went inside. Delaney followed him.”
Raymond stared at the table.
“A few minutes later, the fire alarm sounded.”
Harper held her breath.
“I was working near the side entrance. Smoke came down the hallway. We tried getting out through the loading door.”
He swallowed.
“It wouldn't open.”
Maya's expression sharpened.
“Why?”
“The exterior security latch had been engaged.”
Harper looked at his scar.
“How did you get out?”
“I broke a window in the dispatch office and climbed through.”
His voice cracked.
“Luis was behind me. He was trying to help Michael. They didn't make it.”
Harper began crying.
Raymond wiped his eyes.
“I saw Delaney outside. Standing beside a black car.”
“Before or after you escaped?” Maya asked.
“After.”
“Did you see him start the fire?”
“No.”
“Did you see who secured the loading door?”
“No.”
He looked ashamed.
“But I know we couldn't get out. And I know Delaney told Peter he wasn't leaving.”
Maya nodded.
“Why didn't you tell investigators this eight years ago?”
Raymond hesitated.
“Because two days after the funeral, a man came to my house.”
Harper went still.
“He said my wife and children would be safer if I stopped telling stories about Crestline.”
“Did you report it?”
“I did. Nothing came of it.”
Raymond looked directly at Harper for the first time.
“Your father tried to do the right thing. I was afraid.”
Harper reached across the table.
“Mr. Santos.”
He looked at her.
“My father wouldn't want you spending the rest of your life punishing yourself.”
Raymond began crying.
Harper squeezed his hand.
“You're here now.”
That night, Dominic received another devastating discovery.
Rachel Pierce arrived at the penthouse carrying a sealed archival file.
It had been located in a separate collection of Vincent Russo's personal legal records.
She placed it on the desk.
“Dominic, there's something you need to see.”
He opened the file.
Inside was a confidential memorandum dated July 2018.
Three weeks after the warehouse fire.
The memorandum summarized the preliminary accusations against Peter Hayes.
It also documented concerns about Carlo's financial transactions.
And beneath those concerns was a handwritten instruction.
Do not escalate without family approval.
The signature was Vincent Russo's.
Dominic stared at it.
Rachel spoke carefully.
“This doesn't prove Vincent knew about any deliberate fire. But it shows he was informed that the financial allegations against Peter were disputed.”
Dominic read the page again.
His father had known.
Not necessarily everything.
But enough.
Enough to question Carlo.
Enough to insist on an independent investigation.
Enough to prevent a dead man's name from being destroyed without scrutiny.
Instead, he'd ordered silence.
Dominic slowly sat down.
For most of his life, he'd believed Vincent Russo had been a hard but honorable man.
A man who made difficult decisions.
A man who valued family loyalty above everything.
Now he was confronting something he'd avoided for years.
His father had sometimes mistaken protecting the family for protecting the truth.
And people outside the family had paid the price.
Rachel watched him.
“Dominic?”
He pressed his fingers against his forehead.
“I need to tell Harper.”
Rachel nodded.
“Yes.”
He looked up.
“Everything.”
“Everything relevant, yes. And we need to preserve this record and provide it to investigators.”
Dominic stared at the memorandum.
For years, he'd tried to become the kind of man Vincent Russo would respect.
May you like
Now he was beginning to understand that he might have to disappoint his father's memory to become the man he actually wanted to be.
And he had no idea whether Harper would still want him once she learned the truth.
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