Chapter 9 - What Dominic’s Father Buried
Clare slapped Elias.
The sound cracked through the room.
“You don’t get to say something like that and stand there calmly.”
Elias touched his cheek.
“I deserve worse.”
“Then tell me the truth!”
Ellie began to cry.
Dominic immediately looked at Clare.
She stopped.
Her anger collapsed into guilt.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
Arthur took Ellie into the adjoining room with a guard.
For once, Clare allowed it.
Because whatever came next did not belong in a four-year-old’s world.
Elias sat.
“In 1998, Michael discovered Leonard was using Rowan Accounting to clean money through legitimate property deals.”
Dominic listened without interrupting.
“He wanted out,” Elias continued. “I helped him copy records.”
“You were partners.”
“Yes.”
“You were helping steal from my father.”
“I was helping expose him.”
Dominic’s mouth tightened.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. I expect you to check.”
Elias pushed the leather folder forward.
Inside were copies of ledgers.
Payments.
Names.
Police officers.
Union officials.
Judges.
Dominic recognized some.
Men his father used to call friends.
“Michael planned to go federal.”
Clare whispered, “What happened?”
“Leonard found out.”
Elias looked at her.
“Your mother was pregnant with Rafael then.”
Clare blinked.
“So Rafael is younger?”
“By six years.”
That didn’t fit.
Dominic caught it.
“You said the fire was 1998. Clare is thirty-two. Rafael was driving for me at thirty-five.”
Elias nodded.
“Rafael isn’t Margaret’s biological son.”
Everyone stopped.
Clare stared.
“You said he was my half brother.”
“Because Margaret raised him.”
Dominic’s patience snapped.
“Stop giving half answers.”
Elias looked at him.
“Rafael was Michael’s son from an earlier relationship.”
Clare covered her mouth.
Her brother.
Her father’s son.
Not her mother’s.
Elias continued.
“Leonard captured Michael before he could testify.”
“And buried him alive?”
“In a foundation pour.”
Dominic felt physically sick.
One of his father’s early construction projects.
Concrete.
No body.
No murder case.
Clare began crying silently.
“Where?”
Elias looked at Dominic.
“The old Vale warehouse on Halsted.”
Dominic knew it.
The building had been demolished two years ago.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because Leonard threatened everybody I cared about.”
“You’re a Vale.”
“That never protected us from Leonard.”
Dominic thought about his childhood.
His father’s rules.
His coldness.
His absolute control.
He had known Leonard was violent.
But this?
Elias continued.
“Margaret ran. Daniel took Clare and raised her under Michael’s surname.”
“Why keep Rowan?”
“To leave one thread behind.”
Vincent leaned against the fireplace.
“Then where does Rafael fit into tonight?”
“Rafael grew up knowing his father had been murdered by Leonard Vale.”
Dominic understood.
“And blamed me.”
“He blamed all of us.”
Clare wiped her face.
“Why involve Ellie?”
Elias’s eyes lowered.
“That part I don’t understand.”
Dominic did.
“Leverage.”
Rafael had grown up inside revenge.
People like that eventually stopped seeing individuals.
Only bloodlines.
Vincent’s phone buzzed.
He answered.
After several seconds, his expression changed.
“Dom.”
“What?”
“We got the vehicle from the clinic.”
“Rafael?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Angela’s sister.”
Arthur stood.
“Lydia?”
Vincent nodded.
Arthur’s face collapsed.
“She was kidnapped.”
“Maybe.”
Vincent turned the phone around.
Traffic camera footage showed Lydia driving Mercer’s sedan.
Alone.
No restraints.
No visible gunman.
Arthur stared.
“No.”
Dominic watched him.
“Arthur.”
“No.”
“She may be involved.”
“She was tied to a chair.”
“A video can be staged.”
Arthur shook his head.
“You don’t know her.”
Dominic’s voice stayed gentle.
“And you didn’t know she had access to Angela.”
Arthur stopped.
The security feed had been manipulated.
The threat video could have been produced earlier.
The council vote.
Arthur’s pressure.
If Lydia had used her father’s love to control him, she had access to exactly the right pressure point.
Vincent received another message.
His eyes hardened.
“Car was found.”
“Where?”
“Old Vale warehouse site.”
Dominic grabbed his cane.
Arthur stepped forward.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“That’s exactly why you’re not thinking clearly.”
Arthur’s eyes filled with rage.
Dominic stepped closer.
“Welcome to my evening.”
For a moment, neither man moved.
Then Arthur looked away.
Dominic, Vincent, and six security men reached the old Halsted site forty minutes later.
Nothing remained but an empty redevelopment lot and construction fencing.
One floodlight was burning.
Beneath it sat Mercer’s sedan.
Driver door open.
Dominic approached.
A phone rested on the seat.
Video already playing.
Lydia appeared on-screen.
Not tied.
Not crying.
Calm.
“Hello, Mr. Vale.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“If you’re watching this, my father finally told you about me.”
Vincent whispered, “She’s in it.”
Lydia continued.
“Arthur thinks I was his weakness.”
She smiled.
“He never understood that he was mine.”
Then another person stepped into the video.
Rafael Dane.
Alive.
Lydia looked at him.
Then back at the camera.
“We don’t want your money.”
Rafael spoke next.
“We want the truth.”
Dominic stared at the screen.
“Tomorrow night,” Rafael said, “you will bring the council to the Halsted redevelopment ceremony.”
Dominic frowned.
The groundbreaking event.
Press.
Investors.
City officials.
Hundreds of cameras.
“And in front of all of them,” Rafael continued, “you will tell Chicago what Leonard Vale did.”
Dominic’s face remained still.
Then Lydia smiled.
“If you refuse, we’ll release something else.”
The video changed.
Dominic watched his own SUV crash beneath Lower Wacker.
Different angle.
Close enough to show the driver.
Dominic froze.
Rafael had not been behind the wheel.
A woman had.
Lydia.
And Dominic suddenly remembered the final seconds before impact.
Rafael hadn’t been driving.
May you like
He had been sitting beside him.
Which meant Dominic’s memory of the crash had been manipulated from the beginning.
