Chapter 3 - The Flowers On Her Desk
By morning, Penelope's photograph was everywhere inside Dominic's organization.
Not her glamorous photograph from the gala.
An older photograph.
A little girl sitting beside Thomas Hayes.
Dominic hated the way people looked at her now.
Suspicion.
Greed.
Fear.
He found her in his office at six.
She was wearing her oversized cardigan again.
The glasses were back.
"Why did you change?"
She looked up.
"Because that woman from last night isn't safe here."
He studied her.
"You mean you."
She nodded.
"Why hide?"
"Because people underestimate women they think are ordinary."
Dominic leaned against the desk.
"You fooled everyone."
"Not you."
"Not anymore."
She hesitated.
Then she pushed a file toward him.
"Your father kept financial records in coded ledgers."
Dominic opened it.
Numbers.
Dates.
Shipping routes.
Names disguised as initials.
"Who decoded these?"
"I did."
He looked up.
"You've been doing this for months."
"Years."
"Why?"
"Because my father left me instructions."
"Dead men shouldn't be able to give instructions."
"He planned for his death."
Dominic stared.
"What exactly did he tell you?"
Penelope took out a small notebook.
"Find Dominic Russo. Work beside him. Do not trust the men around him. Especially the man who smiles when Dominic is angry."
Dominic thought of Mateo.
His face hardened.
"You think Mateo is involved?"
"I don't know."
"Then why mention him?"
"Because my father did."
That afternoon, the first threat arrived.
A bouquet.
Red roses.
Dominic saw them before Penelope did.
He picked up the card.
NO MORE HIDING.
He threw the flowers into the trash.
Penelope looked startled.
"Why did you do that?"
"Because someone is watching you."
She stared at the garbage can.
"You shouldn't have touched them."
"Why?"
She walked toward the bin.
"Because the flowers aren't the message."
She removed a rose.
Under the stem was a tiny silver capsule.
Dominic's face changed.
Inside was a photograph.
Thomas Hayes lying unconscious in a hospital bed.
Alive.
The date on the photograph was three months old.
Penelope covered her mouth.
"No."
Dominic caught her before she fell.
"Penelope."
"My father."
She looked up at him.
"He's alive."
A second image followed.
A photograph of a warehouse.
Coordinates printed below.
Then a sentence:
BRING THE KING.
Dominic looked at Penelope.
"That's you?"
She shook her head.
"No."
"Then who?"
She looked terrified.
"Your father."
Dominic stared.
"He's dead."
"Maybe."
The implication was too large to process.
Dominic immediately ordered a private investigation.
The warehouse coordinates led to a building registered to Russo Global Logistics.
Inside, they found nothing.
Except a chessboard.
The black king was missing.
And on the white king was a tiny inscription.
D.R.
Dominic Russo.
He picked it up.
A voice came from the shadows.
"You finally found your father's favorite piece."
Dominic raised his gun.
Mateo stepped into the light.
Penelope gasped.
"What are you doing here?"
Mateo smiled.
"That's exactly what I'd like to ask you."
Dominic's gun remained aimed at his chest.
"Talk."
Mateo looked at Penelope.
Then at Dominic.
"I know who sent the flowers."
"Who?"
"Your father's widow."
Dominic's face went cold.
"My father's widow died."
Mateo shook his head.
"No."
He took out a photograph.
A woman stepping from a car.
Alive.
Dominic recognized her immediately.
His stepmother.
Evelyn Russo.
The woman who had supposedly died in a house fire twelve years ago.
She was standing beside a man.
Thomas Hayes.
Penelope stared.
Her entire world seemed to break open.
"My father."
Dominic lowered the gun.
May you like
Mateo whispered:
"They've both been alive this whole time."
