Chapter 2 - The Secret Dominic Thought Would Kill Their Marriage
Grace did not scream.
She did something worse.
She became quiet.
She sat on the sofa in Dominic's library while he stood across from her.
The ultrasound photograph rested on the coffee table.
The tiny socks remained beside it.
Dominic looked at them as though they were more valuable than every company and property he had ever owned.
“You should have told me,” Grace said.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“No.”
She looked up.
“You were trying to protect yourself from watching me panic.”
Dominic's face tightened.
“You don't understand what my family is capable of.”
“Then explain it.”
He sat across from her.
For six years, Grace had seen him intimidate bankers, attorneys, competitors, and politicians without raising his voice.
She had never seen him struggle to find words.
“My father belonged to an old organization,” he said.
“I know.”
“My grandfather built it.”
“I know.”
“When I took over, I cut ties with most of it.”
“Most?”
Dominic nodded.
“There are families who refuse to accept that the old structure is gone.”
“And they want our baby.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the Russo bloodline means power.”
Grace looked down at her hands.
“This isn't medieval.”
“No.”
His voice was grim.
“It is worse.”
He explained that the Russo family had maintained a succession pact for generations.
Control of certain properties and accounts could only pass through a legitimate heir.
Dominic had refused to participate.
But when he married Grace, the family had begun treating their future children as assets.
The ring on Vanessa's hand was part of an old ceremonial system.
The woman wearing it was publicly recognized as a family guardian.
Not a wife.
Not a mistress.
A custodian.
Someone the family could use to claim authority over a child if the father died.
Grace felt sick.
“So they think if something happens to you, they control the baby?”
“Yes.”
“And Vanessa?”
“She was forced into the role.”
“By whom?”
“My uncle Matteo.”
Grace knew the name.
Matteo Russo had never liked her.
He had smiled too much when she entered rooms.
He had once told Dominic that “outsiders become liabilities.”
Dominic had responded by refusing to speak to him for eleven months.
Grace now understood why.
“Where is Matteo?”
“Boston.”
“How close?”
“To our house?”
Dominic's phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
His expression became blank.
Then he showed it to Grace.
A photograph.
Her leaving the clinic earlier that afternoon.
Another.
Her walking into the estate.
Another.
Her standing in the library.
A final photograph showed the cream box in her hand.
Taken from the hallway.
Grace's stomach twisted.
“Who took these?”
“We're trying to find out.”
“No.”
She stared at the image.
“You're not trying.”
Dominic looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because if you knew there was a leak in your own house, you'd already have found it.”
His eyes narrowed.
She was right.
“Give me your security logs.”
He hesitated.
“Why?”
“Because your family thinks I'm weak.”
“They don't.”
“They do.”
Grace stood.
“Let's prove them wrong.”
For the next four hours, she and Dominic reviewed every access point in the estate.
The leak came from one of the household staff.
A young woman named Emily.
Grace knew her.
Emily had worked in the estate kitchen for eighteen months.
She was kind.
Quiet.
Invisible.
Dominic confronted her.
Emily cried.
“I didn't want to do it.”
“Who forced you?”
“My brother.”
“Where is he?”
“They have him.”
“Who?”
“Matteo.”
Dominic's face became stone.
Emily fell to her knees.
“I was told to send photographs.”
“Anything else?”
“They wanted your wife's medical schedule.”
Grace's hand moved protectively over her stomach.
“Did you give it?”
Emily nodded.
“When did they learn I was pregnant?”
“Last week.”
Grace closed her eyes.
It had begun before she knew.
Dominic looked at his security team.
“Remove her safely.”
Grace stopped him.
“Wait.”
Everyone looked at her.
Emily was crying.
Grace crouched.
“Do you know where Matteo is?”
Emily nodded.
“He's meeting someone tomorrow night.”
“Where?”
“St. Christopher's.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
A church.
Of all places.
“Who is he meeting?”
“I don't know.”
Emily hesitated.
Then whispered:
“Your mother.”
Grace looked at Dominic.
He froze.
His mother had died six years earlier.
Or so Grace believed.
“What?”
Dominic stood.
“My mother is dead.”
Emily shook her head.
“No.”
“She died.”
“I saw her.”
Grace felt cold.
“When?”
“Last week.”
Dominic stared.
The woman had seen his mother.
Alive.
Impossible.
Unless something else was happening.
Grace stepped closer.
“Dominic.”
He looked at her.
“Your mother didn't die, did she?”
He didn't answer.
Grace's heart sank.
“You knew.”
“I believed she was dead.”
“That's not what I asked.”
He looked away.
“My father told me she died.”
“Then why don't you look surprised?”
Dominic finally met her eyes.
“Because six years ago, I found evidence she might have survived.”
“And you never told me?”
“I couldn't prove it.”
Grace laughed once.
“This is what you call a marriage?”
He looked wounded.
“Yes.”
“No.”
She stepped back.
“A marriage isn't one person deciding what the other can handle.”
“Grace.”
“You don't get to protect me by making every decision alone.”
He stood.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“My mother was the last person in this family who tried to leave.”
“What happened?”
“She disappeared.”
“Your father killed her?”
“I don't know.”
“But you suspect.”
“Yes.”
Grace touched the ultrasound photograph.
“And now she's back.”
Dominic nodded.
“Which means someone has decided it's time to finish what they started.”
That night, Grace couldn't sleep.
She went downstairs.
Dominic was in the library.
He was staring at an old photograph.
She approached.
His mother stood beside him as a child.
Grace looked.
Then stopped.
There was another person in the photograph.
Vanessa.
Young.
Teenage.
And beside her—
Matteo.
Grace studied the picture.
“Dominic.”
“Yes?”
“Why does Vanessa look afraid?”
He stared.
“I don't know.”
“Look at her hand.”
There was no ring.
But there was a bruise around her wrist.
Grace understood.
“She was trapped too.”
Dominic nodded slowly.
Grace touched his arm.
“We need to find her.”
The next morning, they did.
Vanessa was waiting at a private house outside Boston.
When Grace entered, Vanessa stood.
“I wondered when you'd come.”
Grace looked at her.
“Tell me the truth.”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“I didn't choose the ring.”
“Who did?”
“Matteo.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted Dominic to believe I had betrayed him.”
Grace frowned.
“What?”
Vanessa sat.
“Your husband has been fighting a war inside his own family for years.”
“And you?”
“My husband died because of it.”
Grace stared.
“Who killed him?”
Vanessa looked toward the window.
“Your husband's mother.”
Silence.
Grace could barely breathe.
Dominic had said his mother might be alive.
Vanessa was saying she was responsible for a murder.
And then Vanessa whispered:
“She didn't kill my husband because she hated him.”
“She killed him because he discovered where your baby would be born.”
Grace froze.
“What?”
Vanessa looked directly at her.
“Your baby isn't the reason the family wants you.”
She paused.
May you like
“Your baby is the key to something much bigger.”
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