Chapter 9 - The Promise Dominic Made Seven Years Ago
“The woman who raised your twin.”
Victor’s words hung in the car.
Nobody moved.
Dominic stared at him through the windshield.
“You have ten seconds.”
Victor swallowed.
“To explain.”
Victor nodded.
“Isabella was never your biological sister.”
“I know that now.”
“But she was raised inside the Rossi family.”
“By whom?”
Victor looked at me.
“Your mother.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“My mother raised Isabella?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what does that mean?”
Victor hesitated.
“Evelyn took one twin.”
My breath caught.
“And the other?”
“She was given to someone else.”
“Who?”
Victor looked toward the black sedan blocking the road.
“The woman who just called.”
Dominic’s hand tightened around his weapon.
“Name.”
“Maria Moretti.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But Dominic reacted.
He went completely still.
“Maria.”
Victor nodded.
“She was Vincent Moretti’s sister.”
Dominic stared at him.
“My father’s enemy had a sister?”
“Everyone has family, Dominic.”
“What did she do with Isabella?”
“Raised her.”
“Why?”
“Because Vincent wanted both girls separated.”
“Why?”
Victor looked at me.
“Because one child could be hidden.”
He paused.
“Two could expose him.”
I felt my pulse in my throat.
“What could we expose?”
Victor looked toward Dominic.
“The truth about your birth.”
Dominic frowned.
“My birth?”
“Your mother wasn't the only woman who knew.”
He turned sharply.
“What does my birth have to do with Clara?”
Victor said nothing.
Dominic grabbed the front of his coat.
“What does my birth have to do with her?”
Victor finally whispered:
“Everything.”
A gunshot cracked through the windshield.
Dominic pulled me down.
Arthur accelerated.
The black sedan swerved after us.
Bullets struck the rear window.
Luca fired through the open side window.
Ethan ducked.
Helen screamed.
Dominic wrapped one arm around me.
“Stay down.”
I pressed against the seat.
“Who are they?”
“Not police.”
“I figured that out.”
Another bullet struck the vehicle.
Arthur turned sharply into an alley.
The tires screamed.
The black sedan followed.
Dominic looked at Victor.
“You said Maria raised Isabella.”
“Yes.”
“Where is Isabella now?”
Victor shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I haven't seen her in twenty years.”
“Then how does Maria know Clara?”
Victor looked at me.
“Because Maria has been watching you since you were born.”
My stomach turned.
“Why?”
“Because she believes you stole her daughter.”
“I was a baby.”
“She doesn't care.”
Dominic's expression darkened.
“What happened to Isabella?”
Victor looked down.
“Evelyn took Clara.”
“And Maria took Isabella.”
“Yes.”
“Why would Evelyn give her away?”
“She didn't.”
Victor looked at me.
“Maria took her.”
The car went silent.
Dominic's voice became low.
“Then why did Evelyn raise Clara alone?”
“Because she was afraid.”
“Of Vincent?”
“Of everyone.”
I closed my eyes.
A memory appeared.
My mother sitting beside my childhood bed.
Her fingers brushing my hair.
“Never tell anyone about your sister.”
I opened my eyes.
“I remember something.”
Everyone turned toward me.
“My mother told me I had a sister.”
Dominic stared.
“When?”
“When I was little.”
“What did she say?”
“That she was somewhere safe.”
Victor nodded.
“She told you the truth.”
“Then why don't I remember Isabella?”
“Because Evelyn made sure you wouldn't.”
“How?”
“Hypnosis.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“She took you to a doctor.”
Dominic looked furious.
“She erased her daughter's memory?”
“Not completely.”
Victor pointed toward my head.
“Memories don't disappear that easily.”
I remembered the alley.
The photograph.
A girl.
Two little girls running through a garden.
One blonde.
One dark-haired.
I pressed my fingers against my temple.
“I've seen her.”
Dominic turned toward me.
“Who?”
“Isabella.”
A sharp pain moved through my head.
“She was there.”
“Where?”
“Behind the hospital.”
I closed my eyes.
“I was holding something.”
“What?”
“A red ribbon.”
Victor's face changed.
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because Isabella wore a red ribbon the day she disappeared.”
My eyes opened.
Dominic stared at Victor.
“Where did she disappear from?”
“St. Catherine's.”
The hospital.
The same hospital where I had trained.
The same hospital where my mother worked.
The same hospital connected to Dominic's childhood.
The pieces were beginning to form a shape.
But the shape terrified me.
Arthur turned again.
“We lost them.”
Dominic looked behind us.
The black sedan was gone.
“Where are we going?”
“Safehouse.”
“No.”
Arthur looked at him.
“Boss?”
“Take us to St. Catherine's.”
I stared at Dominic.
“Why?”
“Because if your memories are connected to that hospital, there may be records.”
Victor shook his head.
“There won't be.”
“Why?”
“Because Michael destroyed them.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“Then we'll find the ones he missed.”
Twenty minutes later, we entered an abandoned side entrance of St. Catherine's.
The hospital had changed.
New wings had been added.
Old sections sealed.
But the basement records room remained.
Arthur unlocked the door.
Dust filled the air.
Metal cabinets stretched along the walls.
Dominic looked at me.
“Anything familiar?”
I shook my head.
Then I saw it.
A blue door.
My heart started racing.
“That.”
“What?”
“I've seen that door.”
Dominic followed me.
“When?”
“I don't know.”
I touched the handle.
A flash hit me.
My mother crying.
A baby crying.
Two blankets.
One pink.
One blue.
A man shouting.
Michael Rossi.
Then Vincent Moretti.
And another man.
Someone I couldn't see.
I stumbled backward.
Dominic caught me.
“What did you see?”
“Two babies.”
His face went pale.
“Clara.”
“I saw my mother.”
“What else?”
“She was holding two babies.”
Victor stepped forward.
“Twins.”
I nodded.
“She was terrified.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Another memory came.
My mother's voice.
“Only one can stay.”
I opened my eyes.
Dominic was staring at me.
“Only one what?”
“I don't know.”
Victor suddenly grabbed the door handle.
“Don't open that.”
Dominic stopped him.
“Why?”
“Because that's where they kept the original records.”
“And?”
“And Michael didn't destroy everything.”
He looked at the door.
“He hid it.”
“Where?”
Victor whispered:
“Behind the maternity wall.”
Arthur examined the wall.
“There's a panel.”
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a metal box.
Locked.
He looked at me.
“Do you have a key?”
“No.”
Victor slowly removed a key from his pocket.
Dominic stared.
“You had that?”
“I've carried it for twenty-eight years.”
He handed it over.
Dominic opened the box.
Inside were several files.
Photographs.
A cassette tape.
And a small hospital bracelet.
I picked it up.
The writing was faded.
BABY A — CLARA HAYES.
My fingers trembled.
There was another bracelet.
BABY B — ISABELLA MORETTI.
Dominic stared at them.
Then I saw something beneath the bracelets.
A third one.
He picked it up.
His expression changed.
BABY C — DOMINIC ROSSI.
The room went silent.
“What?”
I stared at him.
Victor looked terrified.
Dominic turned slowly.
“Why is my name here?”
Nobody answered.
He grabbed the file.
Inside was a birth report.
Three babies.
Born within the same hour.
Two girls.
One boy.
All connected to the same medical case.
I looked at the mother's name.
My eyes widened.
“Evelyn Hayes.”
Dominic looked at the father's name.
“Vincent Moretti.”
My entire body went cold.
“No.”
Victor whispered:
“That's why Michael Rossi wanted the records destroyed.”
Dominic stared at the page.
“I'm Vincent's son.”
Victor nodded.
“You always were.”
I looked at Dominic.
Then at the two bracelets.
Something impossible was suddenly possible.
Dominic wasn't my brother.
He was my half-brother.
And Isabella was my twin.
But that wasn't the worst part.
A note had been attached to the bottom of the report.
Dominic read it aloud.
“Subject C must never learn his biological father's identity.”
He stopped.
Then read the final line.
“Because Subject C is the only child who can expose the original arrangement.”
My stomach tightened.
“What arrangement?”
Dominic looked at Victor.
Victor didn't answer.
“Tell me.”
“The three children were never supposed to survive together.”
“Why?”
“Because Vincent Moretti had made a deal.”
“With whom?”
“Michael Rossi.”
Dominic's face hardened.
“What deal?”
Victor whispered:
“Vincent would surrender one child to the Rossi family.”
I looked at Dominic.
“And the other two?”
Victor's eyes moved toward me.
“Would disappear.”
The lights in the basement flickered.
A phone rang.
Not ours.
From inside the metal box.
Dominic slowly opened the remaining compartment.
There was an old black phone inside.
It began ringing again.
He stared at it.
Nobody touched it.
Then it stopped.
A message appeared on the screen.
YOU FINALLY FOUND THE THREE NAMES.
Another message arrived.
NOW ASK DOMINIC WHAT HE PROMISED ME SEVEN YEARS AGO.
I looked at him.
“What promise?”
Dominic didn't answer.
His face had gone completely pale.
Victor whispered:
“He knows.”
I turned toward Dominic.
“You promised someone something seven years ago?”
He stared at the phone.
Then at me.
“I promised I would never tell you.”
My heart sank.
“Tell me what?”
Dominic stepped closer.
His eyes filled with something I had never seen there before.
Regret.
“Seven years ago, before you knew my name, I found out who you were.”
I couldn't breathe.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you let me save you?”
“Because I didn't know whether I could trust you.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
He closed his eyes.
“I knew Evelyn had sent you.”
“Then why?”
“Because I made a promise.”
“To whom?”
Dominic opened his eyes.
“To your mother.”
My heart stopped.
“What promise?”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out an old photograph.
It showed my mother.
Dominic.
And another woman.
The woman from the phone.
Maria Moretti.
On the back, in my mother's handwriting, were six words:
Protect Clara, even from yourself.
Dominic handed me the photograph.
Then the basement door slammed shut.
A lock clicked from the outside.
May you like
And Maria's voice came through the darkness.
“Dominic, it's time you kept the rest of your promise.”
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