Chapter 5 - The Missing Son"}
The kidnapping changed Dominic.
Before that night, he had been controlled.
Cold.
Methodical.
After Isabella disappeared, something inside him cracked.
He didn't shout.
He didn't threaten anyone.
That would have been easier to understand.
Instead, he became terrifyingly quiet.
Every person in his organization received the same order:
Find Isabella.
Find Ellen.
Find Vincent.
And find Daniel.
I didn't know who Daniel was.
But I knew the name had frightened Dominic.
We returned to New York.
By then, the city was waking up.
Dominic sat in the back of the SUV beside me.
"You need to understand something."
"What?"
"Whatever happens next, you stay with me."
"Why?"
"Because the people behind this know your mother's secret."
"And you don't?"
"I know pieces."
"Then tell me the pieces."
He looked out the window.
"My father had another son."
"Daniel."
"Maybe."
"You don't know?"
"My father never spoke about him."
"Then why did you react like that when you saw the photograph?"
"Because I recognized the woman holding him."
"Who?"
"My father's secretary."
I frowned.
"Why would that matter?"
"Because she died twenty-five years ago."
The car suddenly stopped.
Enzo opened the door.
"Boss."
"What?"
"We found Vincent."
Dominic stepped out.
I followed.
Vincent Rossi was waiting inside an abandoned restaurant.
He looked terrified.
Dominic walked toward him.
"You have five minutes."
Vincent swallowed.
"I didn't order the shooting."
"Who did?"
"I don't know."
Dominic grabbed his collar.
"You're lying."
"I swear."
I stepped closer.
"Vincent."
He looked at me.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
His eyes filled with fear.
"You should be."
"Why?"
"Because your mother was supposed to die twenty-six years ago."
I froze.
Vincent continued.
"Richard believed Ellen stole something from him."
"What?"
"A ledger."
"What ledger?"
"The original Rossi financial records."
Dominic stared.
"Where is it?"
Vincent looked at me.
"Your mother has it."
I felt cold.
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Dominic released him.
Then Vincent said:
"But Daniel knows."
The room went silent.
"Where is Daniel?" Dominic asked.
Vincent shook his head.
"He's been dead for years."
I stared at him.
"Then why does everyone keep talking about him?"
Vincent looked at me.
"Because Daniel wasn't your father's son."
My stomach dropped.
"Then whose son was he?"
Vincent's voice became barely audible.
"Isabella's."
Dominic stepped back.
"No."
Vincent nodded.
"Your mother found out Isabella had a child before she married Richard."
I looked at Dominic.
He seemed unable to breathe.
"My father knew?"
"Yes."
"Why did he hide him?"
"Because Daniel wasn't supposed to exist."
The pieces began moving.
Isabella's strange protectiveness toward me.
The old photograph.
My mother's payments.
Richard's fear.
But there was still something missing.
"Where is Daniel now?"
Vincent shook his head.
"Nobody knows."
Then a gunshot shattered the window.
Vincent fell.
Dominic pulled me behind a wall.
Enzo returned fire.
The restaurant became chaos.
When it ended, Vincent was dead.
Dominic stared at the body.
His expression hardened.
"We're running out of time."
That evening, we received a video.
Isabella sat in a dark room.
Her hands were tied.
A man stood behind her.
The camera moved closer.
"Dominic," she whispered.
"I'm here."
The kidnapper spoke.
"You have twenty-four hours."
"For what?"
"Bring me the ledger."
"Where?"
"Your father's grave."
Dominic's jaw tightened.
"And if I don't?"
The man leaned toward Isabella.
"Then your mother dies."
I looked at Dominic.
"Which mother?"
He looked at me.
That single question told me everything.
The kidnapper had deliberately said "your mother."
Dominic had two women to save.
Isabella.
And Ellen.
And the man behind the camera knew exactly how to use both.
Then the screen went black.
A message appeared.
Emily Hayes comes alone.
I stared.
Dominic shook his head immediately.
"No."
"They want me."
"They're not getting you."
"But maybe they want me because I'm the only person who can lead them to the ledger."
He looked at me.
"You don't know that."
"I know my mother."
"Emily—"
"If I stay here, they'll keep hurting people."
He stepped closer.
"No."
His voice softened.
"I'm not losing you."
I looked into his eyes.
"Then don't."
That night, Dominic and I stood on the balcony overlooking Manhattan.
He reached for my hand.
"I married you to protect you."
"I know."
"But somewhere along the way..."
He stopped.
I waited.
"I stopped thinking of it as a protection arrangement."
My heart beat faster.
"Dominic..."
"I know this isn't fair."
He looked at my ring.
"But I don't want to lose you."
Before I could answer, Enzo burst through the door.
"We found the ledger."
Dominic turned.
"Where?"
Enzo looked at me.
"In Emily's apartment."
I froze.
"My apartment?"
He nodded.
"And there's someone inside."
We rushed downstairs.
But when we reached the building, the door to my apartment was open.
Inside, every drawer had been emptied.
My mother's old photographs were scattered across the floor.
And on my kitchen table sat the ledger.
Beside it was a note.
May you like
You were never the victim, Emily.
You were the key.
