Chapter 3 - A Letter from a Dead Woman
The letter was three pages long.
Dominic read the first page standing.
By the second, he had lowered himself into Elena's chair.
By the third, his hands were shaking.
Dominic,
If you're reading this because Nathan has betrayed you, then I was right to be afraid.
I need you to understand something before you decide what to do.
I don't believe Nathan hates you.
I believe he loves the power he has beside you more than he loves you.
The words blurred.
Dominic forced himself to continue.
Elena described irregular transfers between Vale Holdings and several overseas accounts.
At first, she had believed the money came from Nathan's efforts to protect their businesses during a federal investigation.
Then she discovered that one account was connected to a property development company controlled by the Bennett family.
Claire Bennett's family.
Dominic read the name again.
The Bennetts had been wealthy long before Claire met him.
Her father owned construction companies, warehouses, and commercial properties across New York and New Jersey.
But Elena's letter described a relationship between Nathan and the Bennetts that began years before Dominic knew Claire existed.
A relationship built on hidden payments.
Elena had investigated quietly.
She had spoken with Rebecca Carter, her trusted assistant.
Together, they had collected financial statements and copies of company correspondence.
Elena feared Nathan was preparing to divert a controlling interest in Vale Holdings through fraudulent agreements.
But one sentence bothered Dominic more than any other.
Rebecca knows where I hid the original evidence.
Dominic stood.
He called Daniel.
“Bring Luis Moreno to my office.”
Ten minutes later, Luis entered with his hands visibly trembling.
He was twenty-six and had worked estate security for less than a year.
Dominic pointed to the chair opposite his desk.
“Sit.”
Luis obeyed.
“Who ordered the security shutdown?”
“Mr. Cross.”
“Why?”
“He said there would be a private rehearsal for the wedding.”
“Four in the morning?”
Luis swallowed.
“He said it wasn't my job to question the schedule.”
“Did you see Claire leave?”
Luis looked toward Daniel.
Dominic waited.
“Answer.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Was she alone?”
Luis hesitated.
“No.”
“Who was with her?”
“Mr. Cross.”
Dominic folded his hands.
“So they left together.”
“Yes.”
“Where did they go?”
“I don't know.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Luis, Mia Carter was held captive in my cellar for three days.”
The young man's face drained.
“I didn't know.”
“A four-year-old girl spent those days asking where her mother was.”
“I swear, I thought—”
“What did you think?”
Luis stared at the floor.
“That it was none of my business.”
Dominic sat back.
The answer disgusted him because it was the same excuse people throughout his organization had used for years.
The orders came from above.
Someone else was responsible.
Questions were dangerous.
And innocent people paid for their silence.
“Give Daniel your credentials,” Dominic said.
Luis's eyes filled with panic.
“Sir, please.”
“You'll cooperate with the police.”
“Police?”
“Yes.”
Luis looked confused.
Dominic understood why.
The old Dominic Vale would have settled everything inside the family.
He would have located Nathan, brought him back, and made certain no one outside the organization ever learned what happened.
But Harper had spent three days begging adults to help her.
Dominic would not bury her mother's suffering beneath another family secret.
“Go,” he said.
After Luis left, Dominic looked at Elena's letter again.
There was a handwritten note along the bottom margin.
The answer is not inside the house.
It's beneath the place where we first promised each other forever.
Dominic closed his eyes.
He remembered a summer evening overlooking the Hudson River.
Elena had been twenty-four.
He had been thirty-one.
They stood inside an abandoned greenhouse behind the estate, surrounded by wild roses growing through broken stone.
She had taken his hand and told him she didn't care what his family expected.
She wanted a life that belonged to them.
That greenhouse had later become her favorite place.
Dominic had boarded it up after her death.
No one had entered in seven years.
He opened his eyes.
“Daniel.”
“Yes?”
“Get the greenhouse keys.”
Daniel moved toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Dominic?”
“What?”
“There's a delivery outside.”
“From whom?”
“No return address.”
“What is it?”
“A box.”
Daniel's voice changed.
“Someone left it at the front gate.”
Dominic stared at him.
“And?”
“There's a photograph taped to the lid.”
“Of what?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Harper.”
Dominic rose so abruptly that his chair struck the wall.
The photograph showed the little girl leaving the estate in the ambulance that morning.
Underneath, someone had written a message in thick black ink.
May you like
You found her mother.
Now see if you can keep the daughter.
