Chapter 5 - The Secret Vincent Never Knew
Dominic took one step backward.
Vincent moved between him and Mia.
Alina’s arms tightened around her daughter.
Dominic stared at the child.
“Mia, I’ve never been inside your bedroom.”
Mia shook her head.
“Not you.”
Everyone froze.
Alina crouched.
“Then why did you say Dominic?”
Mia pointed toward his jacket.
“Picture.”
Dominic looked down.
A small embroidered security emblem appeared on the inside edge of his coat.
Mia touched it.
“Man had that.”
The room changed again.
Not Dominic.
Someone dressed like his security team.
Dominic’s face hardened.
“That explains how he moved around without drawing attention.”
Vincent looked at the list.
“What does SON mean?”
Dominic shook his head.
“I have no idea.”
Salvatore did.
Vincent saw it immediately.
“Tell him.”
Salvatore’s shoulders dropped.
“Dominic’s father worked for yours.”
Dominic stared.
“My father was an accountant.”
“He became one.”
“What was he before that?”
Salvatore looked at Vincent.
“Your father’s closest security officer.”
Dominic laughed once.
No humor.
“My father told me he’d never met the Marchettis until 1998.”
“He lied.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
Dominic’s father had discovered financial records showing that Leon Vescari and Arthur Bellini were siphoning money from several old companies.
When he threatened to expose them, Vincent’s father helped him disappear from the organization and start a quieter life.
Dominic grew up believing his father had been an ordinary accountant.
Years later, without knowing the connection, he entered private security and eventually went to work for Vincent.
Vincent’s father had written SON beside Dominic’s name because he regarded Dominic as the son of the man who had once saved him.
The list was not a list of suspects.
It was a list of people connected to a secret investigation.
Frank’s name had another explanation.
His father had maintained the Marchetti vehicles.
Salvatore had kept legal records.
Arthur and Leon had been investigated.
Every name represented a thread.
Vincent looked at Alina.
“Why isn’t your name there?”
“Because I didn’t know any of these people eleven years ago.”
Exactly.
Which meant the person sending messages now had added Mia to an old conflict by accident.
She had seen something she wasn’t supposed to see.
Dominic began reviewing personnel files.
Three members of the current security staff had been hired through an outside contractor.
One had worked the night of the storm.
Evan Pike.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Dark hair.
No known connection to Leon.
But his employment history contained a two-year gap.
Vincent ordered Dominic to find him.
Evan’s apartment was empty.
His company phone was disconnected.
His emergency contact was fake.
Frank looked sick.
“I approved his access.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Why?”
“His background check was clean.”
“Too clean.”
“Yes.”
Frank sat down.
“I’m sorry.”
Vincent’s anger was visible.
But he didn’t explode.
“Sorry comes after we find him.”
They did not have to wait long.
At 9:14 p.m., the mansion intercom rang.
A guard at the gate reported a man standing outside.
Evan Pike.
Alone.
Hands visible.
Asking to speak with Vincent.
Dominic wanted police present before opening the gate.
Vincent agreed.
Whatever his family history, this had become a matter of threats, trespass, and surveillance.
Evidence mattered more than pride.
Evan was brought into a monitored sitting room after authorities secured the situation.
He looked exhausted.
Vincent remained standing.
“Why were you under my SUV?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Gabriel saw a man.”
“That wasn’t me.”
“You wore a security jacket into Mia’s room.”
Evan looked genuinely confused.
“Who’s Mia?”
Vincent watched him.
Dominic placed a photograph of the jacket emblem on the table.
Evan stared at it.
Then cursed under his breath.
“What?”
“My spare uniform disappeared three weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
“I thought I’d lost it.”
Dominic’s expression showed exactly what he thought of that answer.
Evan continued.
“I came because somebody’s setting me up.”
He produced an envelope.
Inside was five thousand dollars and a note ordering him to leave Illinois.
He had found it inside his apartment.
“I figured if I ran, I’d look guilty.”
Vincent asked, “Who gave you the money?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why come here?”
“Because of this.”
Evan placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Arthur Bellini.
Alive.
Standing beside a man in a parking garage.
The second man was Frank.
Frank stared.
“That’s not what it looks like.”
Vincent’s gaze turned cold.
“When was this?”
Frank rubbed both hands over his face.
“Two months ago.”
“You told me you hadn’t spoken to Arthur in six months.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because Arthur contacted me privately.”
“What did he want?”
“To know whether you planned to sell Marchetti Freight.”
Vincent frowned.
“That information wasn’t public.”
“I told him I didn’t know.”
“Did you?”
Frank hesitated.
“Yes.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“You gave him confidential information.”
“I told him you were considering restructuring. That’s all.”
“That’s enough.”
Frank looked ashamed.
“He said hundreds of jobs could disappear.”
Vincent shook his head.
“Arthur knew exactly which guilt to use.”
Frank sat down.
“I never helped anyone hurt you.”
Vincent believed he might be telling the truth.
That did not make the betrayal disappear.
But it also didn’t make him the man beneath the car.
Evan pointed at Arthur in the photograph.
“Look at his hand.”
The silver ring.
Vincent’s father’s crest.
Arthur had the duplicate.
They finally had proof connecting him to the symbol Mia’s camera had captured.
But the taller man remained unidentified.
Then Gabriel entered carrying a folder.
“I found Leon.”
Everyone turned.
“Alive?” Vincent asked.
“I don’t know.”
Gabriel placed down a property record.
Six years earlier, a corporation linked to Leon purchased an abandoned lakeside house north of the city.
The corporation still paid taxes.
Someone was maintaining it.
Dominic looked at Vincent.
“We don’t go alone.”
Vincent nodded.
“No.”
Authorities were contacted.
The house was searched the next morning.
Leon wasn’t there.
But someone had been recently.
Coffee grounds were fresh.
A heater was running.
On the wall were photographs.
Vincent.
Gabriel.
Dominic.
Frank.
Salvatore.
And Mia.
Alina stared at her daughter’s photograph.
It had been taken through the carriage-house window.
Her anger overwhelmed her fear.
Vincent stood beside her.
“We’re ending this.”
“How?”
“By figuring out why they care about a three-year-old.”
Mia wandered near an old desk.
She pointed underneath.
“Truck.”
Alina looked.
A wooden truck sat beneath the desk.
Almost identical to Mia’s.
But older.
Vincent picked it up.
His face changed.
He remembered it.
“It was mine.”
His father had given him the toy when he was four.
He thought it had been lost decades ago.
Gabriel turned it over.
Words were carved into the bottom.
FOR MY BOYS.
Vincent looked at Gabriel.
Their father had intended the toy for both sons.
Inside the hollow wooden body, something rattled.
Dominic carefully opened a loose panel.
A tiny brass key fell into his palm.
Salvatore recognized it.
“That opens a deposit box.”
“Where?”
“Your father’s private bank.”
Vincent stared at the key.
For eleven years, people had searched for whatever his father hid.
The car.
The surveillance.
The lies.
Mia had accidentally led them to it.
Then Alina noticed something on the wall.
One photograph was newer than the others.
It showed her and Mia asleep.
Inside Vincent’s mansion.
Taken the previous night.
Someone had been inside the house after security was increased.
Dominic’s phone rang.
He listened.
Then looked directly at Vincent.
“Vincent.”
“What?”
“The call is coming from inside your house.”
A voice suddenly sounded through the phone.
Calm.
Older.
Familiar.
“Bring me the key.”
Vincent recognized Arthur Bellini.
May you like
Then Arthur added four words.
“Or I open her door.”
