Chapter 2 - The Man Who Paid the Hospital
Dominic moved in front of Grace before the door had opened more than six inches.
Marcus reached beneath his jacket.
“Don't,” Dominic said.
The door continued inward.
Victor Vale stepped into the study.
Dominic's uncle.
The man who had raised him after his father died.
Victor was sixty-one, elegant, gray-haired, and impeccably dressed.
A pale scar ran beneath his left ear.
Grace grabbed Dominic's sleeve.
“That’s the man.”
Victor stopped.
His eyes found the girl.
For one fraction of a second, something appeared on his face.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
Then it vanished.
“Dominic,” Victor said. “I heard there was a problem at the gate.”
Dominic held up Marcus's phone.
“There is.”
Victor glanced at it.
“What's that?”
“A payment.”
“Should I know what you're talking about?”
“October nineteenth. Eight years ago. St. Matthew’s Medical Center.”
Victor's expression remained calm.
Dominic stepped closer.
“Grace Marlowe.”
Victor looked toward the child.
“Is that her name?”
“You know exactly who she is.”
Victor sighed.
“Dominic, whatever you think—”
“Did you pay her hospital bill?”
“No.”
Marcus spoke.
“The authorization carries your executive credentials.”
Victor looked at him.
“Credentials can be used by other people.”
“Not those,” Marcus replied. “That account required biometric confirmation.”
Silence.
Dominic's voice lowered.
“Why did you pay for Elena's delivery?”
Victor looked toward Grace again.
The girl was watching him.
“I was trying to protect you.”
Dominic laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“From my daughter?”
Grace stiffened.
Dominic realized what he had said.
So did everyone else.
Grace stared at him.
“My what?”
Dominic turned.
Her face had gone still.
He crouched.
“Grace.”
“Did you say daughter?”
He hesitated.
There was no gentle way to do this.
“Your mother's letter says I'm your father.”
Grace simply stared.
Then she shook her head.
“No.”
Dominic felt the word physically.
“No?”
“My dad is dead.”
“Who told you that?”
“Mom.”
Victor closed his eyes.
Dominic looked over his shoulder.
“What?”
Victor said nothing.
Dominic stood.
“What do you know?”
Victor walked toward the liquor cabinet.
“Grace shouldn't hear this.”
“Grace has lived it.”
“She is eight.”
“And apparently everyone except me knew what happened when she was born.”
Victor poured himself water instead of whiskey.
That worried Dominic more.
“I didn't know Elena was pregnant when she disappeared,” Victor said.
“Then how did you know about the hospital?”
“I found out later.”
“How?”
Victor stared into his glass.
“Your father.”
Dominic froze.
Marcus frowned.
“Dominic's father died twelve years ago.”
Victor looked at him.
“Yes.”
Dominic's voice became quiet.
“Don't use my father to distract me.”
“I’m not.”
“My father was buried four years before Grace was born.”
Victor put down the glass.
“The man buried in that grave wasn't your biological father.”
Dominic didn't move.
Grace remained behind him.
Marcus looked between the brothers' sons, suddenly understanding this conversation was bigger than a hospital payment.
Victor continued.
“Your mother had an affair.”
“Stop.”
“Dominic—”
“I said stop.”
“The man you called your father knew.”
Dominic walked toward Victor.
“Choose your next sentence carefully.”
Victor held his gaze.
“Your biological father is alive.”
Dominic hit him.
The punch sent Victor into the edge of the desk.
Grace gasped.
Dominic immediately stepped back.
He hated that she had seen it.
Victor touched his lip.
Blood appeared.
“You always did prefer anger to patience.”
“You have thirty seconds.”
Victor straightened.
“The man who separated you from Elena wasn't me.”
“Your name is on the payment.”
“Because I found Elena after Grace was born.”
“Where?”
“A clinic outside Providence.”
“And?”
“She begged me not to tell you.”
Dominic stared.
“Why?”
“Because someone had shown her a photograph too.”
Dominic's face changed.
“What photograph?”
Victor reached slowly inside his jacket.
Marcus raised his weapon.
Victor stopped.
“It's paper.”
“Two fingers,” Marcus said.
Victor withdrew an envelope.
He placed it on the desk.
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Dominic standing outside a courthouse.
Beside him was a blonde woman.
Dominic recognized the day.
A business attorney had accompanied him to a hearing.
But the photograph had been altered.
His hand appeared to rest on the woman's stomach.
A ring had been digitally added to her finger.
Someone had written on the back:
Dominic married her three weeks after Elena disappeared.
Dominic looked at Victor.
“This is fake.”
“I know.”
“Elena believed it?”
“For years.”
“Why didn't you tell her?”
“I tried.”
“Not hard enough.”
Victor's expression tightened.
“You think I haven't lived with that?”
“No. I think you've lived extremely well.”
Dominic threw the photograph onto the desk.
“Where is Elena?”
Victor hesitated.
Dominic stepped closer.
“St. Catherine’s?”
“She was.”
“Was?”
“I took her there this morning.”
Grace spoke from behind Dominic.
“You told Mom you were taking her somewhere safe.”
Victor looked at her.
“I was.”
“Then why did she tell me to run?”
Victor's face changed.
Dominic caught it.
“Run from what?”
Grace answered.
“From him.”
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
“She said if Mr. Victor came back without the nurse, I had to leave.”
Dominic turned slowly toward Victor.
“What nurse?”
“Elena has been receiving treatment.”
“For what?”
Victor said nothing.
“What treatment?”
“Kidney failure.”
Dominic's anger stalled.
Grace looked at the floor.
“Mom gets tired a lot.”
Dominic felt sick.
“How long?”
“Almost three years,” Victor said.
“And you knew?”
“Yes.”
“You paid?”
“At first.”
“Why stop?”
“I didn't.”
Marcus had moved to the desk.
He was examining the medical-payment report.
“Boss.”
Dominic looked at him.
“There’s something else.”
Marcus enlarged the transaction history.
After the original maternity payment, the same foundation had made regular payments.
Medication.
Lab work.
Private appointments.
Then, three years earlier, those payments stopped.
A different company took over.
Blackwood Medical Services.
Dominic recognized that name too.
Blackwood was controlled by one of the Vale family's oldest financial advisers.
Nathan Cole.
A man Dominic had fired six months earlier after discovering unexplained transfers.
“Cole,” Dominic said.
Victor nodded.
“He found Elena.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“And?”
“He threatened Grace.”
Grace looked up.
Victor continued.
“He told Elena that if she contacted you, Grace would disappear.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“And you allowed this?”
“I tried to move them.”
“Apparently you failed.”
“Yes.”
Victor's answer carried something unexpected.
Shame.
Dominic studied him.
“Why didn't you come to me?”
“Because Cole had proof that someone inside your house was helping him.”
Marcus looked up.
Dominic did too.
“Who?”
“I never learned.”
Dominic glanced toward the security cameras.
Suddenly the estate felt different.
Not protected.
Compromised.
His phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown sender.
A photograph loaded.
Elena.
She was sitting in what appeared to be a hospital room.
Today's newspaper lay beside her.
Alive.
Pale.
Terrified.
Beneath the photograph:
YOU FOUND THE GIRL.
NOW CHOOSE WHICH ONE YOU WANT TO KEEP.
Dominic's face hardened.
Grace stepped toward him.
“Is that Mom?”
He locked the screen.
“No.”
“You're lying.”
Dominic looked at her.
The child had Elena's ability to detect dishonesty instantly.
He crouched again.
“I’m going to find her.”
“Promise?”
Dominic had stopped making promises years ago.
“I promise.”
Grace nodded.
Then she reached into her pocket.
“One more thing.”
Dominic almost smiled despite himself.
“How many things did your mother give you?”
“Three.”
“You said the key was the last one.”
“No. You asked if she gave me something if the phone rang.”
Dominic glanced at Marcus.
Marcus almost smiled.
Grace produced a folded receipt.
Dominic opened it.
A storage facility.
Unit 317.
The same number engraved on the brass key.
Victor stared.
“I've never seen that.”
Dominic looked at Marcus.
“Car.”
“You're not going alone.”
“I didn't say I was.”
Grace stepped forward.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Elena's eyes.
Dominic almost laughed.
Instead, he knelt.
“Grace, there are men who don't want me opening whatever your mother put in that unit.”
“That's why I should come. Mom said you wouldn't understand without me.”
Dominic's smile disappeared.
“What wouldn't I understand?”
Grace looked toward the key.
“She said there was a picture inside.”
“What picture?”
“One that proves somebody changed everything.”
Dominic stood.
Twenty minutes later, Grace remained at the estate with Dr. Bennett and two guards Dominic trusted personally.
Dominic, Marcus, and Victor drove to the storage facility.
Unit 317 sat at the end of an empty corridor.
Dominic inserted the key.
Inside were three boxes.
Nothing else.
The first contained Elena's medical records.
The second contained letters.
Dozens.
All addressed to Dominic.
All returned unopened.
The third contained photographs.
Dominic lifted the top one.
The hotel photograph.
The image that had destroyed his relationship with Elena.
Except this was the original.
Elena stood alone.
No man.
No suitcase.
The photograph had been forged.
Marcus whispered, “Jesus.”
Dominic found another envelope.
Inside were bank statements.
Payments to photographers.
Payments to a doctor.
Payments to a private investigator.
Every transaction originated from the same shell company.
Dominic followed the ownership chain.
His hands stopped.
The final beneficiary wasn't Nathan Cole.
It wasn't Victor.
It belonged to someone whose name Dominic had not seen in twelve years.
Someone officially dead.
Marcus leaned closer.
“Boss?”
Dominic turned the document around.
Victor saw the signature and went white.
Then a voice came from the dark corridor behind them.
“You weren't supposed to find that yet.”
Dominic turned.
May you like
A man stepped into the light.
And Dominic recognized his father's face.
