Chapter 4 - The First Trap
Vivien crossed the bedroom without hurry.
That frightened Isabella more than anger would have.
Angry people made mistakes.
Vivien rarely did.
She closed the half-open drawer.
Then looked at Isabella.
“You really should stop trying to be clever.”
Isabella’s left hand moved toward the writing board.
Vivien took it first.
“No.”
She carried it across the room.
Set it on the mantel.
Too far away.
Then removed Isabella’s tablet from the nightstand.
She placed that beside the board.
Isabella glared.
Vivien crouched in front of her.
“I know you dislike me.”
Isabella’s eyes narrowed.
“That was acceptable.”
Vivien smoothed the blanket across Isabella’s knee.
“Old mothers rarely approve of the women their sons choose.”
She leaned closer.
“But dislike became inconvenient when you started asking questions.”
Isabella’s breathing changed.
Vivien noticed.
“Careful.”
She smiled.
“You know what stress does to your blood pressure.”
Isabella stared.
Vivien lowered her voice.
“You think Dominic will save everyone because he happens to be powerful.”
Her expression hardened.
“Power only works when you know where the threat is coming from.”
Isabella’s hand slowly closed.
Vivien stood.
“Tomorrow night, you smile.”
She walked toward the door.
“You let Marin speak.”
Vivien looked back.
“And then this family finally becomes useful.”
The door closed.
Isabella remained motionless.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Then she leaned toward the wheelchair armrest.
Her left fingers slipped beneath the cushion.
She removed a second marker.
Marin had hidden it there weeks earlier.
Isabella smiled.
Downstairs, Dominic entered the dining room where Vivien’s event planners were arranging tomorrow’s tables.
Charles Morrow stood near the windows.
He was sixty-two, silver-haired, lean, and impeccably dressed.
He looked less like a developer than a senator.
Maybe that was why he had always been good at getting senators to answer his calls.
“Dominic.”
Charles smiled.
“I thought you were still at the harbor.”
“Finished early.”
“Good.”
Charles shook his hand.
“Tomorrow will be important.”
Dominic looked around.
Twenty-six seats.
Two families.
Three board members.
A state senator.
Two bankers.
An attorney.
Not a blessing dinner.
A transaction disguised as one.
Charles nodded toward the table.
“Vivien wanted something intimate.”
Dominic almost admired the lie.
“Twenty-six people?”
Charles laughed.
“In our families, that qualifies.”
Dominic poured himself water.
“Did Vivien mention my mother hasn’t been feeling well?”
Charles’s expression changed by a fraction.
“No.”
“She’s tired.”
“Well, she’s been through a lot.”
“Yes.”
Dominic watched him.
“She has.”
Charles glanced toward the planners.
“I hope tomorrow won’t overwhelm her.”
“Do you?”
Charles looked back.
“Of course.”
Dominic smiled.
Then placed the glass down.
“I was reviewing the partnership documents.”
“Anything concern you?”
“Always.”
Charles chuckled.
“That’s why you’re good.”
“One thing interested me.”
“What?”
“The shareholder ratification.”
Charles did not move.
Dominic continued.
“My mother’s seventeen percent.”
“What about it?”
“If she votes against us, the resolution becomes uncomfortable.”
Charles smiled faintly.
“I thought Isabella supported the partnership.”
“Did you?”
“Vivien said she did.”
Dominic looked directly at him.
“My mother doesn’t speak.”
Charles held his stare.
“No.”
“She writes.”
“Yes.”
“So when did she tell Vivien that?”
For the first time, Charles looked cautious.
“You’d have to ask my daughter.”
“I’m asking you.”
Silence stretched.
Charles smiled.
“Dominic, are we having a problem?”
“Not at all.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“I’m asking whether you discussed my mother’s voting rights with Vivien.”
“Of course we discussed all significant shareholders.”
“Did you discuss her medical capacity?”
Charles’s eyes hardened.
“That seems like an offensive question.”
“Then the answer should be easy.”
“No.”
Dominic knew it was a lie.
He let Charles see that he knew.
Nothing more.
Then Dominic smiled.
“Good.”
He walked away.
Charles watched him leave.
Thirty seconds later, Charles took out his phone.
Dominic had expected that.
Rocco was waiting in the monitoring room.
Charles’s device was not tapped.
Dominic had no legal warrant and no interest in giving a future prosecutor evidence of an illegal interception.
But they did have control of the mansion’s internal cellular repeater.
They could see metadata.
Charles called Vivien.
Forty-three seconds.
Then another number.
Dominic looked at the screen.
“Who?”
Rocco ran the number.
His face tightened.
“Peter Sloan.”
The former security administrator.
Dominic stared at the record.
Charles ended the call.
Sloan’s phone went dark seconds later.
Rocco looked at Dominic.
“You want him picked up?”
“Not yet.”
“He could disappear.”
“Let him try.”
Dominic’s phone rang.
Carlo.
“I’ve got something.”
“What?”
“The remote access attempt on the East Greenwich house.”
“Trace?”
“Came through three relays.”
“Meaning?”
“Someone knew what they were doing.”
“That doesn’t help me.”
“The final relay was paid using a corporate card.”
Dominic waited.
“Which company?”
“Morrow Development.”
The room went silent.
Rocco muttered a curse.
Dominic looked at the dining room cameras.
Charles stood beneath a chandelier, smiling at a florist.
“Keep watching him.”
Dominic left.
He found Vivien at the foot of the staircase.
She approached him.
“Daddy says you’re asking strange questions.”
That was faster than Dominic expected.
“Does he?”
She touched his tie.
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
“No.”
“I am.”
Vivien smiled.
“Not about the business.”
She leaned closer.
“About becoming your wife.”
Dominic looked into the face he had once planned to wake beside for the rest of his life.
“Why?”
“Because I love you.”
The words landed like something dead.
Dominic gently moved her hand from his tie.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.”
For a second, Vivien searched his eyes.
Then she smiled.
“That sounded almost threatening.”
“Did it?”
She laughed.
“You’ve been spending too much time with Rocco.”
She kissed him.
Dominic let her.
Then walked upstairs.
The moment he disappeared, Vivien’s smile vanished.
She took out her phone.
A message from Charles waited.
HE KNOWS SOMETHING.
Vivien typed back:
HOW MUCH?
Charles replied:
UNKNOWN.
Vivien looked toward Isabella’s wing.
Then typed:
MOVE SCHEDULE FORWARD.
Her father answered:
TONIGHT?
Vivien’s fingers moved.
YES.
She slipped the phone away.
At 10:17 p.m., a maintenance van approached the Virelli estate’s west service entrance.
The driver showed a valid vendor credential.
The guard scanned it.
Approved.
The gate opened.
Inside the van were two men.
May you like
Neither worked for the maintenance company.
And between them sat Peter Sloan.
