Chapter 3 - The Contract She Never Told Him About
Dominic reached the townhouse before Vivian.
That alone told him something was wrong.
His driver had taken her directly from the boutique.
The trip should have taken twelve minutes.
Dominic arrived in nine.
Vivian wasn't there.
Neither was Celeste.
He called his wife.
No answer.
He called Celeste.
Nothing.
On the third attempt, Celeste finally answered.
“Where are you?”
Silence.
“Celeste.”
“We're fine.”
“Where?”
“She asked me not to tell you.”
Dominic's voice cooled.
“Put Vivian on.”
“She doesn't want to talk.”
“I didn't ask what she wants.”
Celeste paused.
“You might want to reconsider that sentence.”
Dominic shut his eyes.
She was right.
He hated that she was right.
He lowered his voice.
“Tell her I'm not angry with her.”
“I already did.”
“Tell her I saw the agreement.”
Celeste went silent.
“You know about it?”
“Yes.”
“Who made her sign it?”
“Dominic—”
“Celeste.”
“It wasn't exactly like that.”
His hand tightened around the phone.
“What does exactly mean?”
“It means nobody held a gun to her head.”
“That's an interesting standard for consent.”
“She was pressured.”
“By whom?”
Before Celeste could answer, the townhouse doors opened.
Vivian entered.
Alone.
Dominic disconnected the call.
She stopped when she saw him.
“You beat me here.”
“Where's Celeste?”
“She dropped me nearby.”
“Why?”
“I needed to walk.”
Dominic stared at her.
Then he held up his phone.
The postnuptial agreement filled the screen.
Vivian went pale.
“Who sent you that?”
“Is it real?”
“Dominic.”
“Is it real?”
“Yes.”
One word.
No excuse.
No denial.
He felt strangely calm.
That frightened him more than anger.
“Where is the original?”
“In my desk.”
He walked toward the study.
Vivian followed.
“Dom, wait.”
He opened the drawer.
Nothing.
“It's gone.”
“What?”
“The contract.”
Vivian rushed forward.
She searched the drawer herself.
Then the cabinet.
Then a locked box.
Empty.
Dominic watched her face.
“You didn't remove it?”
“No.”
“Who knew it was here?”
“My attorney.”
“Who?”
“Rachel Bell.”
He knew the name.
A lawyer used by several Serrano charities.
“Family attorney.”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
Vivian sank into the desk chair.
Dominic crouched in front of her.
“Tell me everything.”
She looked at him.
“No interruptions.”
He nodded.
“No threats.”
He hesitated.
“Dominic.”
“No threats.”
“No calling anyone until I'm finished.”
He nodded again.
Vivian inhaled.
“Three months ago, Marcella asked me to meet her for lunch.”
Dominic's eyes hardened.
“No interruptions.”
He remained silent.
“She said there were rumors.”
“What rumors?”
Vivian gave him a look.
He closed his mouth.
“She said people believed I was preparing to leave you.”
Dominic frowned.
“That never happened.”
“I know.”
“She said if the rumors spread, your enemies might use them.”
Vivian rubbed her palms together.
“She told me signing a postnup would demonstrate that I wasn't with you for money.”
Dominic stared at her.
“And you signed.”
“Not immediately.”
“What changed?”
“She showed me documents.”
“What documents?”
“Accounts. Transfers. Properties.”
Dominic's stomach tightened.
“What kind of transfers?”
“Things in my name.”
He stood.
“There is nothing in your name you don't know about.”
“That's what I thought.”
“Where are those documents?”
“She kept them.”
“Vivian.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't understand. If someone created false financial records using your identity—”
“I understand.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because she said you created them.”
Dominic froze.
Vivian continued.
“She said you were moving money through my name because your organization was under investigation.”
“That is a lie.”
“I know that now.”
“How?”
“Because I asked Celeste.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Dominic stared.
“The dresses made you ask about financial records?”
“No.”
“Then what happened yesterday?”
Vivian looked away.
“The copper gown came with something.”
Dominic remembered Celeste placing it on his conference table.
“What?”
“A note.”
“What did it say?”
Vivian hesitated.
“Vivian.”
She opened her purse.
A folded piece of paper emerged.
She handed it to him.
One sentence had been printed in block letters.
RETURN THE DRESS. RETURN THE HUSBAND. KEEP YOUR NAME OUT OF OUR BUSINESS.
Dominic read it twice.
“Who sent this?”
“I don't know.”
“Why wasn't this the first thing you told me?”
“Because every time I tried to decide whether something was dangerous or just another family insult, I couldn't tell anymore.”
That silenced him.
He sat beside her.
“I'm sorry.”
Vivian looked up.
Dominic Serrano apologized rarely.
Not because he believed he was always right.
Because in his world, apologies were frequently interpreted as weakness.
With Vivian, that had never mattered.
Until he forgot it.
“I should have noticed.”
“You can't notice things people hide from you.”
“I notice everything else.”
“You're not responsible for every cruel thing someone says.”
“No.”
He stared at the note.
“But I'm responsible for the environment that made you think you couldn't tell me.”
Vivian's eyes softened.
Dominic continued.
“Did you sign the agreement because you believed I was using your name?”
“Partly.”
“What else?”
Vivian looked toward the window.
“Marcella said if I refused, she'd tell you I was threatening to expose the records unless you gave me money.”
Dominic's expression went dead.
“She blackmailed you.”
“She called it protecting the family.”
“She threatened to destroy our marriage.”
“Yes.”
“And you signed.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't she stop?”
Vivian laughed without humor.
“Because people like Marcella don't stop when you surrender. They learn surrender works.”
Dominic looked at his wife differently.
There she was.
The woman he married.
Not broken.
Wounded.
But clear-eyed.
Strong enough to understand her enemies even while they were hurting her.
He took her hand.
“Tonight, nobody comes into this house unless you want them here.”
She nodded.
“And nobody leaves without answering you.”
Vivian raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds dangerously close to a threat.”
“I'm adapting.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then the house phone rang.
Neither moved.
It rang again.
Dominic picked it up.
Security.
“Boss, Mrs. Marcella Serrano is at the gate.”
“Turn her away.”
“She says she has something belonging to Mrs. Serrano.”
Dominic looked at Vivian.
“What?”
The guard hesitated.
“She has the original agreement.”
Vivian stood.
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
The guard's voice dropped.
“She brought Attorney Bell.”
Vivian went pale.
Dominic looked toward the front doors.
The intercom chimed.
A camera feed appeared on the wall panel.
Marcella stood outside.
Rachel Bell beside her.
And between them was a young man Dominic had never seen.
He was holding a folder.
Across the front, in black marker, someone had written:
VIVIAN SERRANO — MEDICAL RECORDS.
Dominic slowly looked at his wife.
Vivian whispered, “I've never seen that file.”
Then the young man looked directly into the security camera.
May you like
He smiled.
And raised a photograph of Dominic.
