Chapter 3 - The Secret Her Mother Took To The Grave
Khloe couldn't move.
She stared at Elena as if the woman had suddenly begun speaking another language.
"My mother died from a heart attack."
"That's what they told you."
"Who is they?"
Elena looked at Dominic.
He stepped closer.
"We'll tell her."
"No."
Khloe raised a hand.
"I want the truth from her."
Elena looked away.
"She left a recording."
They drove to Dominic's private archive.
Inside, Elena opened a hidden cabinet.
A small cassette sat inside.
Khloe stared.
"I haven't heard a cassette in years."
"It's not old technology to us," Dominic said.
She gave him a look.
He almost smiled.
They played it.
A woman's voice filled the room.
Khloe recognized it immediately.
Her mother.
"My darling Khloe."
Khloe covered her mouth.
"If you're hearing this, then someone has finally found the pendant."
The recording continued.
"You have spent your life believing I worked in accounting."
A pause.
"I did."
"But not for the company you were told."
Khloe cried silently.
"I worked for Roberto Castile."
Dominic's face hardened.
"My husband believed he was building a legitimate empire."
"He was wrong."
"He built something darker."
The tape continued.
"Money moved through charities. Through shipping companies. Through foundations. People disappeared."
Khloe's chest tightened.
"My mother knew."
"Yes."
"And your mother was brave."
She looked at Elena.
The recording continued.
"I kept copies."
"I hid them."
"But Roberto discovered me."
"He threatened Khloe."
Khloe's tears fell.
"He said if I went to the police, he would hurt my daughter."
A click.
"That is why I had to disappear."
Khloe whispered:
"You didn't disappear."
"No."
Elena looked at her.
"She tried to protect you."
The tape continued.
"The pendant contains a key."
"A key to a safety deposit box."
"And inside that box is the original ledger."
Dominic stared.
"So the ledger survived."
"Yes."
"My husband believed the key was destroyed."
Khloe touched her necklace.
"But I kept it."
The tape ended.
Silence.
Khloe looked at Dominic.
"You knew my mother."
"No."
"Your sister did."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know enough."
She looked at Elena.
"Why did you?"
"Because your mother asked me to protect you if she couldn't."
Khloe laughed bitterly.
"Everyone seems to have known my mother except me."
Dominic stepped closer.
"You were a child."
"I deserved the truth."
"You deserved a childhood."
She looked at him.
He sounded sincere.
That scared her more than anger would have.
They went to the bank.
The safety deposit box required the pendant's key.
Inside was a ledger.
Photographs.
A stack of letters.
And one envelope marked:
FOR KHLOE.
She opened it.
My daughter,
I am sorry.
I know you will be angry.
You have every right.
But there are some truths that become dangerous the moment they are spoken.
Your father is not who you think he was.
Khloe stopped breathing.
Her father had died before she was born.
She had been told he was a car accident victim.
The next page revealed his name.
Marcus Moretti.
Dominic went still.
"Moretti."
Khloe stared at him.
"What?"
"Your father was Vincent Moretti's brother."
Everything clicked.
Vincent had been searching for the ledger because he knew Khloe existed.
She was blood.
She was connected to the Moretti family.
And the pendant belonged to their old network.
Khloe whispered:
"So Vincent wasn't trying to kill Dominic."
Dante nodded.
"He was trying to find you."
"Why?"
"Because you are the legal beneficiary of an old trust."
Khloe laughed.
"I don't want their money."
Dominic looked at her.
"That's not the point."
"What is?"
"If you inherit the trust, you control information about the companies."
"Why would anyone care?"
"Because the trust contains evidence."
Khloe looked at the ledger.
"Evidence of what?"
Dominic opened the first page.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
And one recurring code.
C-17.
Khloe pointed.
"This."
Dominic nodded.
"Yes."
"Who is C-17?"
"We don't know."
They spent hours decoding the ledger.
C-17 appeared beside payments sent to several different companies.
Then Khloe noticed something.
The same initials appeared in the gala files.
J.C.
She searched the event list.
Jason Caldwell.
Senior donor.
Board member.
And Dominic's closest financial adviser.
Khloe stared.
"He was at the gala."
"Yes."
"He spoke to me."
Dominic's expression sharpened.
"What did he say?"
"He asked whether room 414 was mine."
Silence.
Dominic looked at Dante.
Dante immediately called security.
"Find Caldwell."
No answer.
They searched his office.
Empty.
His phone was destroyed.
His car abandoned.
And on his desk was a photograph of Khloe.
Taken outside her apartment.
She froze.
"He's been following me."
Dominic stepped between her and the photograph.
"This ends now."
He looked at Dante.
"Find him."
The search lasted two days.
Then Jason Caldwell appeared on a livestream.
His face was bruised.
He sat in a dark room.
"Dominic Castile is not who you think he is."
Khloe stared.
Jason continued.
"His father ordered the murder of Marcus Moretti."
Dominic's face went pale.
The livestream ended.
Khloe turned toward him.
"Did your father kill mine?"
"I don't know."
"You're supposed to be the person with all the answers."
"I don't have them."
"Then find them."
He nodded.
"I will."
That night, Dominic found Khloe in the kitchen.
She was staring at the pendant.
"You're afraid."
"Yes."
"Of me?"
"No."
"Then of what?"
"That everyone who gets close to me dies."
Dominic stood beside her.
"I won't."
"You can't promise that."
"I can."
"How?"
"Because I finally have something worth fighting for."
She looked at him.
"What's that?"
He didn't answer.
He simply covered her hand with his.
For one moment, she wanted to lean closer.
Then the lights went out.
A gunshot shattered the window.
Dominic pulled her down.
Dante shouted from the hallway.
"Get down!"
Another shot.
Then silence.
Dominic looked at Khloe.
"Stay here."
"No."
"This isn't negotiable."
She grabbed his sleeve.
"Don't leave me alone."
He stopped.
Something softened in his eyes.
"Then stay behind me."
They moved through the darkness together.
At the end of the corridor, they found a message painted in red on the wall.
RETURN THE LEDGER.
OR SHE DIES.
Below it was a photograph.
A little girl.
Approximately eight years old.
Khloe stared.
"Who is that?"
Dominic went pale.
"My niece."
"Where is she?"
"I thought she was dead."
May you like
The next message appeared on a phone left on the floor.
Then bring Khloe.
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