Chapter 3 - Blood Inside the Family
The hospital attack lasted less than four minutes.
It felt like an hour.
Dominic's security team pushed the attackers toward the stairwell while nurses rushed patients into locked rooms.
One bullet struck the wall beside my bed.
I screamed.
Dominic grabbed my hand.
"Look at me."
I did.
"Not the door."
His eyes held mine.
"Just me."
It was strangely calming.
Then the hallway went silent.
Enzo returned.
"Two men down. One escaped."
Dominic nodded.
"Who?"
"Hospital security thinks he was wearing maintenance gear."
Dominic swore under his breath.
He looked at me.
"We're leaving."
"Where?"
"Somewhere they can't find you."
"I have a mother in Cleveland."
"I'll bring her to New York."
"No."
"Emily—"
"No."
I was terrified.
But I was also angry.
"You don't get to move my entire life without asking."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
"You're right."
That was the first time I realized something about Dominic Rossi.
He could command a room.
He could terrify criminals.
But when I said no, he listened.
It didn't make me trust him.
Not yet.
But it made me curious.
Two hours later, I was transported to a private Rossi-owned estate outside Manhattan.
The house was enormous.
Stone walls.
Iron gates.
Security cameras everywhere.
It didn't feel like a home.
It felt like a fortress.
I was taken to an upstairs bedroom.
Isabella came in carrying a tray.
"Soup."
"I don't think I can eat."
"Then pretend you're doing it for me."
I smiled.
She sat beside me.
"Emily, I owe you the truth."
"About my mother?"
"Yes."
She took a breath.
"Twenty-six years ago, my husband had an affair."
I stared at her.
"With my mother?"
She shook her head.
"No."
Relief came first.
Then confusion.
"Then why was she with him?"
"Because your mother worked for him."
"Doing what?"
"Accounting."
I blinked.
"My mother was an accountant?"
"She was brilliant."
Isabella's eyes became distant.
"Your mother discovered something."
"What?"
"Money being moved through companies owned by the Rossi family."
"Illegal money?"
"Some of it."
I waited.
"And?"
"She threatened to expose it."
I looked toward the window.
"Why didn't she?"
"Because your mother was pregnant."
My heart stopped.
"Pregnant with me."
Isabella nodded.
"Your mother had discovered something involving Dominic's father. She wanted to leave."
"What stopped her?"
"He threatened her."
"With me?"
"With you."
My hands trembled.
"He said he would take you away."
I stared at her.
"Then why did he pay her?"
"Because after you were born, he changed."
"Changed how?"
"He became afraid."
"Of what?"
Isabella lowered her voice.
"Of his own father."
That night, Dominic finally showed me the original file.
There were photographs.
Bank statements.
Legal documents.
And one handwritten letter.
I read it slowly.
Ellen,
If anything happens to me, keep Emily away from the Rossi family.
The money isn't protection. It's a leash.
He believes the girl belongs to him.
There was no signature.
But I knew the handwriting.
My mother's.
I looked up.
"What does this mean?"
Dominic sat across from me.
"My father believed you were connected to him."
"How?"
"We don't know."
"That's not an answer."
"I know."
I pushed the papers toward him.
"Then find out."
He looked at me.
"I will."
That was when Enzo entered.
"Dominic."
"What?"
"We found the catering company."
"Who arranged Emily's shift?"
Enzo placed a photograph on the table.
I recognized the man immediately.
"That's Mr. Hale."
"Who is he?"
"The manager of the catering company."
Enzo shook his head.
"He disappeared six hours ago."
Dominic's expression hardened.
"Find him."
"We're trying."
Then Enzo placed another photograph down.
This one showed a woman.
Older.
Dark hair.
Standing outside a Cleveland hospital.
I stared.
"That's my mother."
Enzo nodded.
"And she wasn't alone."
A man stood beside her.
I didn't recognize him.
Dominic did.
His face went completely pale.
"Who is that?"
He didn't answer.
I looked at the photograph again.
Then I noticed the man's watch.
A silver watch with an unusual black stripe.
I'd seen it before.
At the gala.
On one of the men standing behind Dominic.
"Wait."
Dominic looked at me.
"That watch."
Enzo stepped closer.
"What about it?"
"I saw someone wearing it at the hotel."
"Who?"
I closed my eyes.
The memory came back.
A man standing near the service entrance.
Watching me.
Not the shooter.
Someone else.
Someone who had watched me before the shooting.
"I think he was following me."
Dominic stood.
"Describe him."
"Gray suit. Brown hair. Late forties."
Enzo looked at Dominic.
"Could be Vincent."
Dominic's expression changed.
"Vincent is family."
"Who is Vincent?"
"My cousin."
I stared at him.
"Was he at the hotel?"
"Yes."
"Where is he now?"
Enzo checked his phone.
Then went silent.
Dominic took it from him.
The message on the screen was simple.
Vincent Rossi has left New York.
Dominic looked at me.
For the first time, I understood.
This wasn't about a random assassination.
Someone had been building toward that night for years.
And I had been the final piece.
Then my mother's phone called.
Dominic answered.
A man's voice came through.
"Tell Emily her mother is safe."
Dominic's eyes hardened.
"Who is this?"
The voice laughed.
"Ask your father why he paid Ellen Hayes for twenty-six years."
Then the line went dead.
I whispered:
"My mother isn't safe."
Dominic looked at me.
"No."
He grabbed his coat.
"She's bait."
May you like
And for the first time, we realized the real target had never been me.
It was the secret my mother had spent twenty-six years protecting.
