Chapter 8 - The Secret Isabella Buried
Dominic had not heard the year 1998 spoken with fear in a long time.
He was thirteen then.
His father, Antonio Virelli, had still been alive.
The Virelli name had not yet appeared on hospitals, scholarships, and waterfront towers.
It had appeared in newspapers for different reasons.
Union investigations.
Racketeering rumors.
Missing witnesses.
Cases that collapsed.
People who stopped talking.
Dominic had spent twenty years turning Virelli Capital legitimate.
At least as legitimate as billions of dollars and political influence ever became.
He looked at his mother.
“Ma?”
Isabella’s hand trembled.
Vivien smiled.
“Tell him.”
Dominic turned.
“Shut up.”
Vivien did.
He crouched beside Isabella.
“What happened in 1998?”
Isabella looked toward the writing board.
Marin retrieved it.
Isabella wrote slowly.
YOUR FATHER SAVED US.
Dominic read it.
“From what?”
She wrote:
WAR.
Dominic frowned.
Vivien laughed softly.
“That’s one word for it.”
Dominic ignored her.
“What war?”
Isabella wrote:
MORETTI.
The name meant something.
Salvatore Moretti had controlled shipping contracts from Boston to Providence in the 1990s.
His organization collapsed after federal indictments in 2001.
Dominic had been told his father had competed with Moretti commercially.
Apparently that was not the whole story.
Isabella continued.
HE WANTED PORT.
Dominic nodded.
“He wanted our terminals.”
Isabella wrote:
HE WANTED YOU.
Dominic went still.
“Me?”
Isabella nodded.
Vivien spoke.
“Moretti planned to kidnap you.”
Dominic turned toward her.
“How do you know?”
“My father found the records.”
“What records?”
“Your father’s private archive.”
Dominic stared.
“There is no private archive.”
Vivien smiled.
“That’s what Isabella wanted you to believe.”
Dominic looked back at his mother.
She lowered her eyes.
His stomach tightened.
“Where?”
Isabella wrote:
BANK.
“Which bank?”
She wrote a name.
A private institution in Geneva.
Dominic stood.
Vivien folded her arms.
“Antonio Virelli documented everything.”
Dominic’s eyes moved back to her.
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
She shrugged.
“Men like your father always kept insurance.”
Rocco shifted near the door.
Dominic looked at him.
Rocco’s father had served Antonio.
His expression confirmed enough.
“You knew?”
Rocco shook his head.
“Not about Geneva.”
Dominic returned his attention to Vivien.
“What’s in the archive?”
“Payments.”
“To whom?”
“Officials.”
“Who else?”
“Union leaders.”
“Keep going.”
Vivien smiled faintly.
“A judge.”
Mercer looked uncomfortable.
Dominic’s expression did not change.
“Dead?”
“Some.”
“Living?”
“Some.”
Dominic understood the threat.
If records surfaced, the reputational damage alone could destroy financing.
Prosecutors could reopen old questions.
Political partners would flee.
The redevelopment agreement would collapse.
Vivien stepped closer.
“Tomorrow happens.”
Dominic stared.
“You still think you’re negotiating?”
“Yes.”
She pointed toward his mother.
“Because she knows what those files can do.”
Dominic looked at Isabella.
She nodded once.
Vivien continued.
“My father has copies.”
Charles had lied at the boathouse.
Or perhaps Vivien had kept leverage even from Charles.
Dominic asked.
“Where?”
“You don’t get that for free.”
Rocco moved.
Dominic raised one hand.
Vivien smiled.
“See?”
She whispered.
“This is why tomorrow happens.”
Dominic studied her.
“You threatened a child.”
“Yes.”
No denial now.
“You drugged my mother.”
Vivien’s jaw tightened.
“I needed her weak.”
Marin looked sick.
Vivien continued.
“And if you destroy me tonight, everything your mother spent twenty-eight years hiding becomes public by sunrise.”
Dominic looked at Isabella.
“Is that true?”
She nodded.
Dominic stood silent for several seconds.
Then he did something no one expected.
He smiled.
Vivien’s confidence flickered.
“What?”
Dominic walked to the window.
Rain moved across the glass.
“My father used to say something.”
Vivien waited.
“He said a secret only has power if the person keeping it is ashamed.”
Vivien frowned.
Dominic turned.
“My father did terrible things.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
Dominic continued.
“I’ve spent most of my adult life fixing what I could and refusing to repeat what I couldn’t.”
He looked at his mother.
“I’m not sacrificing a nine-year-old boy’s safety to protect Antonio Virelli’s reputation.”
Isabella’s eyes opened.
Tears filled them.
Dominic turned back to Vivien.
“Release everything.”
Her face changed.
“You’re bluffing.”
“No.”
“You’ll lose contracts.”
“Probably.”
“Banks.”
“Maybe.”
“Board seats.”
“Some.”
“The state investigation alone—”
“Do it.”
Vivien stared.
Dominic stepped closer.
“You spent months building leverage around a dead man.”
His voice lowered.
“You should have studied the living one.”
Vivien’s confidence cracked.
She reached for her phone.
Rocco took it.
“Give me that.”
“No.”
Dominic held out his hand.
Rocco gave him the phone.
Dominic unlocked nothing.
He simply placed it on the table.
“You’ll stay in the guest suite tonight.”
Vivien stared.
“You can’t imprison me.”
“You can leave.”
He gestured toward the door.
“And Rocco can call the state police before your car reaches the highway.”
Vivien’s face tightened.
“Or you can remain here voluntarily with counsel available in the morning.”
“You think you’re clever.”
“No.”
Dominic looked tired for the first time.
“I think I almost married a woman who threatened a child and sedated my mother.”
His eyes hardened again.
“I don’t feel clever.”
Vivien said nothing.
Rocco escorted her out.
Mercer immediately began examining Isabella.
Marin remained beside the wheelchair.
Dominic stood near the window.
His mother wrote something.
Marin read it.
Then looked toward him.
“Dominic.”
He turned.
Isabella held up the board.
SORRY.
Dominic crossed the room.
“For what?”
She wrote:
HID TRUTH.
“About Dad?”
She nodded.
Dominic crouched.
“You were protecting me.”
She wrote:
YES.
“Did that help?”
Isabella thought.
Then slowly shook her head.
Dominic took the marker.
He wrote beneath her word.
NO MORE SECRETS.
His mother read it.
Then looked at him.
She took the marker back.
AGREED.
Marin smiled.
For one quiet second, the room felt safe.
Then Dominic’s phone rang.
Carlo.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We searched Claire’s cottage.”
“And?”
“We found a second room.”
Dominic’s body tightened.
“What was in it?”
“Photographs.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
Dominic looked toward the dark windows.
Carlo continued.
“Your mother.”
A pause.
“Marin.”
Dominic’s eyes moved to her.
“And Eli.”
Marin went pale.
“How many?”
“Hundreds.”
Dominic’s voice lowered.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Carlo hesitated.
“There’s a photograph from twelve years ago.”
“Of?”
“You and Marin.”
Dominic looked at her.
Marin stared back.
“What are you talking about?”
Carlo continued.
“You’re outside St. Joseph’s Hospital.”
Dominic remembered the hospital.
Twelve years ago.
His father had been dying.
He had spent weeks there.
Marin whispered.
“I worked there.”
Dominic looked at her.
She continued.
“Food services.”
Carlo said.
“Boss, there’s writing on the back.”
“What does it say?”
Carlo read it.
“SUBJECT D.V. — FEMALE CONTACT UNKNOWN — POSSIBLE WITNESS.”
Dominic stopped breathing for half a second.
“Twelve years ago?”
“Yes.”
Marin stared at him.
Vivien had known about Marin long before Marin ever entered the Virelli estate.
May you like
And that meant the plan had not begun three weeks ago.
It had begun years before Dominic ever met Vivien Morrow.
