Chapter 3 - The Name Mara Never Told Him
Mara grabbed Dominic’s arm.
“Don’t open that gate.”
Dominic looked at her.
For the first time since the messages began, his wife wasn’t ashamed.
She was terrified.
Outside, the unknown woman stood beside Bianca, staring directly into the security camera.
Dominic didn’t recognize the woman.
But he recognized the name she had spoken.
Elena.
Twelve years earlier, Elena Serrano had disappeared.
Dominic’s younger sister.
His mother had received one phone call demanding money.
Dominic had paid.
Elena had never come home.
No body had ever been found.
After two years, the family stopped discussing her publicly.
After five, even privately.
But Dominic had never stopped looking.
He slowly turned toward Mara.
“How do you know Elena?”
Mara released his arm.
“I can explain.”
Celeste made a broken sound behind them.
“You know?”
Mara looked at her.
“Yes.”
Celeste stumbled backward as if struck.
“You knew something about my sister and said nothing?”
“Not what you think.”
“Then what?”
Dominic raised one hand.
Celeste stopped.
His eyes remained on Mara.
“Start talking.”
Mara looked toward the security monitor.
“Not while she's outside.”
Dominic turned to his security chief.
“Bring Bianca in.”
“And the other woman?”
“No.”
Mara immediately said, “Dominic—”
“She stays outside.”
The guard nodded.
On the monitor, two armed security men approached the gate.
Bianca was quickly escorted inside.
The mysterious woman didn't resist or follow.
She simply stood beside the SUV.
Watching.
That bothered Dominic.
People approaching a Serrano residence at midnight usually displayed one of two emotions.
Fear.
Or stupidity.
This woman displayed neither.
Bianca entered the house less than two minutes later.
Her face was streaked with tears.
Dominic met her in the foyer.
“Who is she?”
Bianca shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“You arrived in her car.”
“She picked me up.”
“From where?”
“My apartment.”
“You willingly got into a stranger's vehicle?”
“No.”
The single word changed the room.
Dominic's security chief stepped closer.
“What happened?”
Bianca wrapped her arms around herself.
“She called me after Celeste did. She said if I didn't come here, she'd send everything to Dominic.”
“What everything?”
Bianca looked at Mara.
“The messages.”
Mara's face tightened.
Dominic stepped between them.
“Look at me.”
Bianca did.
“Which messages?”
“The family chat. The pictures. The comments.”
“You were afraid I'd discover you insulted my wife?”
Bianca's eyes filled again.
“It wasn't only that.”
“What else?”
She swallowed.
“Someone paid me.”
Silence.
Celeste stared at her.
“You took money?”
“I didn't know what it was for.”
Dominic's voice sharpened.
“You're going to stop saying that.”
Bianca nodded rapidly.
“A woman contacted me three months ago. She knew I worked with the gala committee.”
“What did she want?”
“Information.”
“About Mara?”
“At first, no. She wanted seating charts. Guest lists. Which designers were being considered. Which photographers would be there.”
“Why?”
“She said she represented a society magazine.”
“And you believed her?”
“She paid five thousand dollars for information that wasn't secret.”
Dominic laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Continue.”
“Then she started asking about Mara.”
Dominic's expression darkened.
“What kind of questions?”
“What she was wearing. Whether she was attending. Whether she was happy with the dresses.”
Mara stared.
“The dresses?”
Bianca nodded.
“I told her you'd sent several.”
“And?”
“She asked for photographs.”
Dominic stepped closer.
Bianca backed away.
“I never photographed Mara changing.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
Dominic's voice dropped.
“You're running out of useful answers.”
Mara touched his shoulder.
He stopped.
Not because Bianca deserved protection.
Because Mara was asking him.
Bianca wiped her face.
“The woman kept telling me Mara was wrong for the Serrano image. She sent me articles about wealthy families and public perception. She made it sound like protecting the foundation.”
Celeste stared at her.
“And you believed that?”
Bianca looked ashamed.
“I already thought some of it.”
Mara flinched.
Bianca saw.
“Mara—”
“Don't.”
Mara's voice was quiet.
Bianca lowered her eyes.
Dominic wanted to throw her out.
Instead, he needed answers.
“The photograph from the fitting room.”
Bianca shook her head.
“I didn't take it.”
“Did you know about it?”
“Not until tonight.”
“Who wrote on the hanger?”
Bianca hesitated.
“I did.”
Mara inhaled.
Dominic went completely still.
Bianca rushed to explain.
“But it wasn't meant for Mara.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“Explain that very carefully.”
“The woman told me to mark the hanger so someone at the boutique would know which dress to pull before Mara's fitting.”
“Pull for what?”
“I don't know.”
“Why write NOT FOR HER?”
“Those were the exact words she gave me.”
Dominic stared.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“The hanger came back today.”
“I know.”
“So whoever was supposed to find your message didn't.”
Bianca nodded.
“Or they did,” Mara said.
Everyone looked at her.
She stared toward the monitor.
“And they wanted Dominic to see it.”
Dominic followed her gaze.
The unknown woman remained outside.
Still waiting.
“Why Elena?” he asked.
Mara closed her eyes.
Dominic stepped toward her.
“You knew her.”
It wasn't a question anymore.
Mara whispered, “Not exactly.”
“Then exactly what?”
She looked at Celeste.
Then Bianca.
“Can we do this alone?”
Celeste immediately objected.
“Elena was my sister too.”
Dominic turned.
“Leave.”
Celeste stared at him.
“Dominic.”
“Now.”
Bianca didn't need to be told twice.
Celeste resisted for another moment.
Then she followed Bianca toward the library.
Dominic waited until the door closed.
Only Mara remained.
And his security chief.
Dominic glanced at him.
“Give us the room.”
The man nodded and left.
Mara walked toward the living room.
Dominic followed.
She sat on the sofa.
He remained standing.
For several seconds, she couldn't look at him.
Then she spoke.
“My father knew Elena.”
Dominic's body became rigid.
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
Dominic knew very little about Mara's father.
Peter Callahan.
Journalist.
Dead nine years.
Mara rarely discussed him.
“How?”
“He was investigating something.”
“What?”
“I never knew everything.”
“Mara.”
“I was nineteen.”
Dominic stopped.
That meant Mara had known about Elena years before meeting him.
“He kept files at home. Most were boring. Financial records. Property transfers. Names I didn't recognize.”
“And Elena?”
“One night I heard him arguing with a woman in his office.”
Dominic said nothing.
“She was crying. He kept telling her she couldn't go home.”
Dominic's pulse changed.
“How old was the woman?”
“Early twenties.”
Elena had been twenty-two when she disappeared.
“What did she look like?”
“I barely saw her.”
“Hair?”
“Dark.”
“Height?”
“Maybe five-five.”
Elena had been five-five.
Dominic sat opposite Mara.
“What did your father call her?”
Mara looked at him.
“Elena.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't know it was your Elena.”
“You knew my sister disappeared.”
“Years later.”
“You knew her name.”
“Elena isn't exactly rare.”
“You knew my family's name.”
“Not from my father.”
Dominic stared.
Mara leaned forward.
“I swear to you, Dominic. I never heard Serrano in those conversations.”
“When did you realize?”
Mara's silence answered him.
His face hardened.
“When?”
“After we were married.”
“How long after?”
“Eight months.”
Dominic stood.
He walked away.
Mara followed him with her eyes.
“What happened eight months after we married?”
“Your mother showed me a family album.”
Dominic stopped.
“There was a picture of Elena.”
“And you recognized her.”
“Yes.”
He turned.
“And you said nothing.”
“I wasn't certain.”
“You just told me you recognized her.”
“I recognized the face. I didn't know what it meant.”
“So you investigated.”
Mara's expression gave her away.
Dominic almost smiled despite his anger.
Of course she had.
“What did you find?”
“Nothing at first.”
“And later?”
“My father's storage unit.”
Dominic stared.
“You still had his files?”
“Some.”
“What was in them?”
“Records about a company called Bellweather Holdings.”
Dominic knew the name.
His expression changed.
Mara noticed.
“You know it.”
“My father used Bellweather twenty years ago.”
“For what?”
“Real estate.”
“No.”
Dominic frowned.
Mara stood.
“It wasn't real estate.”
“What was it?”
“Payments.”
“To whom?”
“I don't know. Most of the recipient names were coded.”
Dominic's phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
Mara continued.
“One file had Elena's first name handwritten across the top.”
“What else?”
“A date.”
“When?”
“Three days after she disappeared.”
Dominic stopped breathing for a moment.
“What did the file say?”
“Almost nothing. Just a transfer amount.”
“How much?”
“Two million dollars.”
The ransom.
Dominic had personally arranged two million.
He stared at his wife.
“That was the money.”
“I figured.”
“To whom was it transferred?”
“I couldn't tell.”
“What happened to the file?”
Mara looked away.
Dominic immediately understood.
“You still have it.”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
“It disappeared.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
The timeline slammed into place.
Six weeks.
The comments.
The photographs.
The dresses.
The gala.
Dominic's voice became quiet.
“Someone broke into your father's storage?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“I moved the documents.”
“Where?”
“To my office.”
“Who knew?”
“Nobody.”
“Someone did.”
“Yes.”
Dominic rubbed his jaw.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Mara's eyes filled.
“Because your father's name was in those records.”
Dominic looked at her.
“What?”
“Not just Bellweather.”
She swallowed.
“Your father personally authorized the transfer.”
Dominic's father, Vittorio Serrano, had died seven years earlier.
A heart attack.
In his sleep.
At least that was what Dominic had always believed.
“You're saying my father paid the ransom.”
“No.”
Mara's voice trembled.
“I'm saying he paid someone three days after your sister disappeared.”
Dominic stared at her.
“And my father was investigating why.”
Mara nodded.
“What happened to your father?”
“You know.”
“Car accident.”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe that?”
Mara didn't answer.
Dominic understood.
He turned toward the security monitor mounted near the study entrance.
The woman outside was gone.
The SUV remained.
Empty.
Dominic grabbed his phone.
“Security.”
His chief answered.
“Boss.”
“Where's the woman?”
A pause.
“What woman?”
Dominic's blood chilled.
“The woman beside Bianca.”
“Sir, Bianca arrived alone.”
Dominic stared at the monitor.
“No. We all saw her.”
Another pause.
“I'm reviewing the exterior feed now.”
Dominic looked at Mara.
The security chief's voice changed.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“The footage is corrupted.”
“From when?”
“Exactly eleven forty-seven.”
The time Bianca arrived.
Dominic looked toward the library.
Celeste and Bianca were still inside.
He walked there quickly.
Mara followed.
Dominic opened the door.
Celeste stood beside the fireplace.
Bianca sat on the sofa.
“Describe the woman who brought you here.”
Bianca blinked.
“Why?”
“Describe her.”
“Dark hair. Maybe fifty. Tall.”
“Name?”
“She never gave one.”
“Did she mention Elena before arriving?”
Bianca shook her head.
“No.”
“Did she touch anything?”
“My phone.”
Dominic held out his hand.
Bianca gave it to him.
The screen was locked.
“Passcode.”
She told him.
He opened recent calls.
Nothing.
Messages.
Nothing.
Then Mara noticed something.
“Photos.”
Dominic opened the gallery.
The newest image had been taken twenty-three minutes earlier.
Inside the SUV.
Bianca was visible in the front passenger seat.
In the rearview mirror, part of the driver's face could be seen.
Mara leaned closer.
Her breath stopped.
Dominic enlarged the photograph.
Mara backed away.
“What?”
She shook her head.
“Mara.”
“I've seen her before.”
“Where?”
Mara looked terrified.
“My father's funeral.”
Dominic stared at her.
“She came to my father's funeral.”
Celeste stepped closer.
“Who is she?”
“I don't know.”
Dominic enlarged the reflection again.
Something hung around the woman's neck.
A silver pendant.
Celeste gasped.
Dominic looked at her.
“What?”
Celeste pointed.
“That necklace.”
Dominic zoomed in.
The pendant was oval.
Small.
Engraved.
His stomach tightened.
Elena had owned one exactly like it.
Their mother had given matching pendants to both daughters when they were children.
Celeste reached beneath her blouse.
She pulled out hers.
Identical.
Nobody spoke.
Then Mara's phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
Dominic held out his hand.
“Speaker.”
Mara answered.
Silence.
Then the woman's voice.
“You finally showed him.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“Who are you?”
The woman ignored him.
“Mara, your father made one mistake.”
Mara's hand trembled.
“What?”
“He trusted a Serrano.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Which Serrano?”
A soft laugh.
Then:
“The one standing closest to you.”
The call ended.
Everyone froze.
Dominic looked around the room.
Celeste.
Bianca.
Mara.
Then his eyes moved toward the hallway.
His security chief stood there.
He wasn't alone.
An elderly woman had entered behind him.
Dominic's mother.
Isabella Serrano.
She looked at the pendant on Bianca's phone.
Her face collapsed.
“Where did you get that?”
Dominic walked toward her.
“Mother.”
Isabella backed away.
“Where?”
“You recognize it.”
She covered her mouth.
Celeste rushed toward her.
“Mom?”
Isabella's eyes filled with tears.
“That isn't possible.”
Dominic's voice sharpened.
“What isn't possible?”
His mother looked at him.
For twelve years, Isabella Serrano had refused to discuss the night Elena disappeared.
Now she looked terrified.
Not grieving.
Terrified.
“Dominic,” she whispered, “Elena wasn't kidnapped.”
The room went silent.
Dominic took one step toward her.
“What did you say?”
Isabella's lips trembled.
Before she could answer, three hard knocks came from the front door.
Everyone turned.
The security chief frowned.
“No one passed the gate.”
Another knock.
Slower.
Louder.
Dominic walked toward the foyer.
Mara followed.
He reached the front door.
The security monitor beside it showed an empty porch.
Dominic unlocked the deadbolt.
Mara caught his arm.
“Dominic.”
He opened the door.
No one stood outside.
Only a small black box rested on the doorstep.
Dominic bent down.
His name was written across the lid.
He opened it.
Inside was an old photograph of Elena.
On the back were six words.
ASK YOUR MOTHER WHO SHE BURIED.
Behind Dominic, Isabella screamed.
Then a woman's voice came from inside the house.
“Don't ask her.”
Dominic turned.
May you like
The basement door was opening.
And someone was walking up the stairs.
