Chapter 11 - Dominic's Oldest Secret
“Drive,” Marcus said.
Grant did not move.
The federal driver glanced into the mirror.
Marcus raised the gun.
“Now.”
The vehicle pulled away.
Grant watched the warehouse disappear.
“Why?”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“You really do ask questions late.”
Grant absorbed it.
“Were you working for Victor?”
“At first.”
“And Margaret?”
“At first.”
“What changed?”
“Serena.”
Grant looked at him.
Marcus lowered the gun slightly.
“I signed that IP agreement.”
“You said you didn’t remember.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because if Victor knew I remembered, I’d be dead.”
Grant stared.
Marcus continued.
“I spent years pretending to help them while preserving evidence.”
“You represented me through the divorce.”
“Yes.”
“You let me humiliate Serena.”
“I couldn’t control what came out of your mouth.”
Grant had no answer.
Marcus’s face tightened.
“But I delayed the property certification. I kept her ownership claims alive. I did what I could.”
“Why point a gun at me?”
“Because the driver works for Victor.”
The driver looked back.
Too late.
Marcus struck.
The vehicle swerved.
Grant grabbed the wheel.
Tires screamed.
The car hit a barrier.
Airbags exploded.
Minutes later, Grant crawled onto the pavement.
Marcus emerged from the other side.
The driver ran.
Federal vehicles converged.
Marcus dropped the gun.
“Now,” he said, breathing hard, “I can testify.”
At the marina, Dominic arrived despite Serena’s warning.
Isabella saw him.
Twenty years passed across their faces.
Dominic stopped several feet away.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I know.”
“I looked for you.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you trust me?”
Isabella’s eyes filled.
“Because you didn’t trust me first.”
Dominic lowered his head.
Serena stepped away.
Some reunions belonged to the people who had survived them.
Later, Samuel assembled everyone.
Marcus gave investigators his archive.
Years of records.
Payments.
Orders.
Communications.
Margaret and Victor had built the network.
Adrian had discovered pieces of it and responded with his own manipulation.
Camille had become both participant and reluctant informant.
Grant had been used as a public face and financial conduit.
But none of that absolved him of taking Serena’s work.
Grant understood.
“I’ll sign whatever restores ownership.”
Serena looked at him.
“It isn’t that simple.”
“I know.”
“The company employs twelve hundred people.”
“I know.”
“If it collapses, they pay for what we did.”
Grant nodded.
“So we save it.”
“We?”
He caught himself.
“You save it. If that’s what you choose.”
Serena studied him.
A small change.
But real.
Dominic watched them.
Later, he found Grant alone.
“I could hate you,” Dominic said.
Grant looked up.
“You probably should.”
“No. Hate is expensive.”
Grant almost smiled.
Dominic did not.
“You hurt my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“You made her small so you could feel large.”
Grant swallowed.
“Yes.”
“If you ever do it again—”
“I won’t get the chance.”
Dominic studied him.
Grant continued.
“She doesn’t owe me another one.”
For the first time, Dominic’s expression softened by a fraction.
“No. She doesn’t.”
The federal case moved quickly.
Margaret negotiated nothing.
Victor denied everything.
The evidence was overwhelming.
But one problem remained.
Model 44 showed one administrator account still active.
Samuel stared at the screen.
“Victor wasn’t the top-level controller.”
Serena frowned.
“Then who?”
“I don’t know.”
The administrator used no name.
Only initials.
D.M.
Everyone looked at Dominic.
He shook his head.
“Not me.”
Samuel traced the access history.
The account predated Victor’s network.
Thirty-three years.
Dominic went pale.
“That’s impossible.”
“What?”
“My father used those initials.”
Serena stared.
“Your father is dead.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
Dominic’s voice became quiet.
“Thirty-two years ago.”
Samuel looked at the account.
It had been accessed yesterday.
Serena’s phone vibrated.
A voicemail.
No caller ID.
She played it.
An old man’s voice filled the room.
“Serena, if Dominic has finally told you the truth, ask him what happened the night his father supposedly died.”
Dominic’s face lost all color.
Serena slowly turned toward him.
“What happened that night?”
Dominic looked toward Isabella.
She already knew.
Serena understood from her expression.
“Mom?”
Isabella whispered, “Your grandfather didn’t die.”
Serena’s phone rang again.
This time the caller ID displayed a name.
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Dominic’s dead father was calling...
