Chapter 3 - What Dominic Had Hidden
"Take the children upstairs," Dominic said.
Claire stared at him.
"This isn't your house."
"No."
His voice was tight.
"But they shouldn't hear this."
Gabriel gathered his siblings without argument.
Sophie looked frightened.
Claire hated that.
When the kitchen door closed, she turned toward Dominic.
"Three weeks ago."
"Yes."
"You told me you left that world."
"I did."
"Then explain."
Celeste folded her arms.
Dominic ignored her.
"The warehouse belonged to my father."
"Belonged?"
"It was transferred after his death. I discovered someone had reopened operations there."
"The guns?"
"Not mine."
"The cash?"
"Not mine."
"Why didn't you call the police?"
Dominic hesitated.
Claire's heart sank.
"Because you don't trust them."
"Because someone inside the department is involved."
Celeste laughed.
"Convenient."
Dominic turned.
"How did you get these?"
For the first time, Celeste's confidence slipped.
"They were sent to me."
"By whom?"
"Anonymous."
Dominic moved closer.
"Nobody sends photographs like these without wanting something."
Celeste stepped back.
Claire noticed.
Dominic noticed too.
"What did they ask you to do?"
"Nothing."
"Celeste."
"Nothing!"
Her voice cracked.
Silence.
Then she reached into her purse.
A second envelope appeared.
"I was supposed to give Claire the photographs."
Claire's blood chilled.
"And?"
Celeste looked ashamed.
"They said if she didn't leave town, I was supposed to tell them where she lived."
Dominic became terrifyingly still.
"Did you?"
"No."
"Did you?"
"No!"
Celeste's eyes filled.
"I hate her. Fine. I hate that your children adore her. I hate the way you look at her. But I wouldn't hand her to criminals."
Claire studied her.
For the first time, Celeste looked human.
Frightened.
Jealous.
Used.
"Who contacted you?"
"Burner phone."
Dominic extended his hand.
Celeste gave it to him.
He examined the messages.
Claire watched his face change.
"What?"
Dominic showed her.
One message contained an address.
The bakery.
Another contained a time.
Tonight. 11:30.
The final message read:
VALE WILL COME FOR HER. BE READY.
Claire's mouth went dry.
"They're setting a trap."
Dominic nodded.
"For me."
That evening, federal agents—not local police—surrounded the bakery.
Dominic had contacts Claire hadn't known about.
That surprised nobody.
Claire waited at his house with the children.
At 11:42, three men entered the alley.
Two were arrested.
The third escaped.
One of the arrested men carried a photograph of Elena Vale.
Dominic's dead wife.
When Dominic returned after two in the morning, Claire was awake.
He found her at the kitchen table.
"What happened?"
"Two arrests."
"And?"
"One ran."
"Who?"
"We don't know yet."
Claire pushed a mug toward him.
Coffee.
Black.
Dominic sat.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Claire asked, "What happened to Elena?"
His fingers tightened around the mug.
"She was driving home."
Claire waited.
"A truck crossed the center line."
"Accident?"
"That's what the report said."
"But you don't believe it."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because Elena called me ten minutes before."
Dominic stared into his coffee.
"She said somebody was following her."
Claire's chest tightened.
"I told her to keep driving. I told her I'd meet her."
His voice roughened.
"I was six minutes too late."
Claire reached across the table.
Her hand covered his.
Dominic looked down at it.
"I spent three years believing that if I care about someone, I make them vulnerable."
"Your children?"
"They didn't choose me."
"They choose you every day."
His eyes lifted.
"So do I."
The words escaped before Claire could stop them.
Silence.
Dominic stood.
Claire thought she had made a terrible mistake.
Then he walked around the table.
He stopped inches away.
"Claire."
Her heartbeat hammered.
"Don't say anything."
"Why?"
"Because if you say something kind, I'm probably going to do something stupid."
His mouth almost smiled.
"What?"
Claire looked up.
"Kiss you."
Dominic's expression changed.
"That would be terrible."
"Disastrous."
"Reckless."
"Definitely."
He touched her cheek.
Claire stopped breathing.
Then Dominic kissed her.
It wasn't dramatic.
It was careful.
Almost hesitant.
That surprised her most.
The man Greyhaven feared kissed as though Claire were something he was afraid to break.
When they separated, she whispered, "That was stupid."
"Very."
She kissed him again.
Morning brought five children.
Noah walked into the kitchen, saw Dominic's hand at Claire's waist, and froze.
"Oh."
Claire jumped away.
Dominic didn't.
Noah grinned.
"SO—"
Dominic covered his mouth.
"Breakfast."
By eight, every child knew.
By eight-ten, Sophie was trying not to smile.
By eight-fifteen, Ben asked whether Claire would marry Dad.
Claire nearly dropped a plate.
Gabriel rescued her.
"Ben."
"What?"
"You don't ask that."
"Why?"
"Because normal people wait."
"How long?"
Gabriel looked at Claire.
"Apparently not long enough."
Dominic coughed into his coffee.
For one morning, fear disappeared.
Then Claire's phone rang.
Her landlord.
"There was a fire."
Claire stood.
"What?"
"The bakery."
Dominic was already moving.
They reached Main Street twelve minutes later.
Smoke curled from the rear windows.
Firefighters had controlled the flames.
The kitchen was destroyed.
Claire stood behind the barrier.
Her life's work was blackened.
The ovens Aunt Margaret had saved for years to buy.
The handwritten recipes.
The wooden shelf Claire's father had built.
Gone.
She didn't cry.
Not until a firefighter carried out the brass bell from above the door.
Blackened.
Bent.
Silent.
Then Claire broke.
Dominic caught her.
She pressed her face against his coat.
"I can't do this."
"Yes, you can."
"No."
"Claire."
She looked up.
His face was wet too.
Whether from smoke or tears, she didn't know.
"We rebuild."
She shook her head.
"You don't understand."
"I do."
"This was all I had."
Dominic's grip tightened.
"No."
She stared at him.
He looked toward his children waiting beside Gabriel.
Then back at Claire.
"This bakery was never all you had."
Later investigators confirmed arson.
Accelerant.
Back entrance.
Deliberate.
A message had been painted beneath the soot.
Five words.
VALE WOMEN DON'T LIVE LONG.
Dominic read it.
Then walked away.
Claire followed.
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
"Don't lie."
He stopped.
"Claire."
"You're thinking about going back."
Silence.
"You're thinking about becoming the man they expect."
"They burned your bakery."
"And if you become them, they burn you too."
Dominic's jaw clenched.
"Elena died because I waited."
"No. Elena died because someone killed her."
Claire stepped closer.
"Don't give them your soul because they already took enough."
For a moment, she thought she had reached him.
Then his phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
Everything changed.
"What?"
Dominic turned the phone toward her.
A photograph.
Sophie leaving school.
Taken ten minutes earlier.
Below it:
ONE CHILD FOR ONE BAKER.
Dominic called Gabriel.
No answer.
He called the school.
His face drained of color.
May you like
Claire knew before he spoke.
"Sophie never made it inside."
