Chapter 2 - The Brother Who Was Never Supposed to Die
Dominic moved before Vincent could open the door.
He handed Grace to Hannah and stepped into the hallway.
Vincent stood there in a navy suit, silver hair immaculate, the expression on his face that of a patient uncle.
“Problem?” Vincent asked.
Dominic closed the office door behind him.
“Housekeeping mistake.”
Vincent looked toward the door.
“A mistake?”
“One of the staff brought a child upstairs.”
“Here?”
Dominic allowed irritation into his expression.
Exactly enough.
“Apparently childcare is difficult to find.”
Vincent chuckled.
“Fire her.”
Dominic studied him.
Vincent had been present at Christmas dinners, funerals, weddings, business negotiations, and hospital beds.
When Dominic was eleven and broke his wrist, Vincent drove him to the emergency room.
When Dominic’s father died, Vincent stood beside the coffin.
When Julian died, Vincent had identified the burned vehicle before Dominic arrived.
“Something wrong?” Vincent asked.
“No.”
Dominic paused.
“I’ll handle it.”
Vincent nodded.
“Your meeting with the port authority is in twenty minutes.”
“Move it.”
“That won’t be easy.”
“I didn’t ask if it was easy.”
Vincent gave him a curious look, then walked away.
Dominic waited until he disappeared into the elevator.
Then he returned to the office.
Hannah stood holding Grace tightly.
“We need to leave,” she whispered.
“No.”
“He saw me.”
“He has seen you hundreds of times.”
“He hasn’t seen Grace.”
Dominic locked the door.
“You’re not leaving until I know what my brother knew.”
“I already told you everything.”
“No.”
Dominic looked toward Grace.
“You told me everything Julian told you.”
Hannah frowned.
“What else is there?”
“The things he didn’t tell you.”
Dominic walked to a panel hidden beside the bookshelf and pressed his thumb against the scanner.
A concealed wall safe opened.
He removed two phones.
Neither was registered under his name.
“Call nobody,” he said.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding out whether my brother died by accident.”
Within eight minutes, Dominic had summoned only one person.
Dr. Samuel Ellis.
Not a physician.
A forensic accountant.
Samuel had worked secretly for Dominic for seven years. Few people in the organization knew he existed.
Dominic gave him one instruction.
“Pull every shipping manifest Julian accessed during the final six months of his life.”
Samuel went silent.
“That could be thousands.”
“Then begin with anything edited twice.”
“By whom?”
“Anyone.”
Dominic disconnected.
Hannah watched him.
“You believed me.”
“No.”
She looked offended.
“I believe evidence.”
Grace suddenly laughed.
Dominic looked down.
She had somehow retrieved his pen from the desk.
“Give me that.”
Grace pulled it away.
Dominic reached again.
She laughed harder.
Hannah stared.
“What?”
“I’ve never seen anyone refuse you before.”
“Apparently she hasn’t been properly briefed.”
For the first time, Hannah smiled.
It vanished quickly.
Dominic studied her.
“Tell me about Julian.”
Her face softened.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
And so Hannah told him.
Not about Julian Caruso.
About Evan Cole.
The man who ate cereal for dinner because he could not cook.
The man who brought home abandoned plants from office buildings and somehow kept them alive.
The man who danced badly in the kitchen.
The man who took Hannah to cheap baseball games instead of expensive restaurants because he liked sitting among ordinary people.
Dominic listened to stories about a brother he had never known existed.
“He wanted Grace to have a normal childhood,” Hannah said.
“He told you that?”
“Constantly.”
Dominic looked toward the Manhattan skyline.
“Julian never had one.”
“I know.”
“He told you?”
“Enough.”
Dominic remembered their father.
Antonio Caruso had loved his sons in the way powerful men sometimes loved—deeply, fiercely, and disastrously.
He taught them loyalty before kindness.
Caution before trust.
Dominic adapted.
Julian resisted.
Perhaps that was why Julian had created Evan Cole.
A version of himself outside the family name.
A version capable of loving Hannah.
Dominic’s secure phone buzzed.
Samuel.
“That was fast.”
“It’s bad,” Samuel said.
Dominic turned away.
“How bad?”
“I found nineteen duplicated manifests immediately. Julian flagged all of them.”
“What cargo?”
“Officially? Medical supplies, electronics, auto parts.”
“And actually?”
“I don’t know yet. But the container weights don’t match.”
“Who approved them?”
A pause.
“Vincent Rizzo.”
Dominic’s face remained expressionless.
“Anyone else?”
“Several approvals were made using Julian’s credentials.”
Dominic’s blood chilled.
“After his death?”
“Yes.”
“How long after?”
“The first one was eleven days later.”
Someone had used his dead brother’s identity.
“Send nothing electronically.”
“Understood.”
“Print everything.”
“Where?”
Dominic gave him an address no member of the Caruso organization knew.
An old warehouse Dominic owned through six layers of shell corporations.
He ended the call.
Hannah knew from his expression.
“It was Vincent.”
“I don’t know.”
“But—”
“I said I don’t know.”
Dominic had survived by refusing conclusions unsupported by proof.
Even when those conclusions hurt.
Especially then.
He crossed the room.
“Where is Julian’s emergency bag?”
Hannah hesitated.
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“My apartment.”
“We’re going there.”
“No.”
Dominic looked at her.
“No?”
“If somebody is watching me, taking you there will tell them everything.”
“Somebody may already know.”
“That doesn’t mean I lead them directly to Grace’s home.”
Dominic almost admired her.
Fear had not destroyed her judgment.
“Fine.”
He picked up one of the secure phones.
“Give me the address.”
“No.”
Dominic stared.
Hannah stared back.
Grace yawned between them.
“This is becoming irritating,” Dominic said.
“I’m trying to keep my daughter alive.”
“So am I.”
“You met her twenty minutes ago.”
Dominic glanced at the medal.
“That doesn’t make her less my blood.”
Hannah’s expression changed.
He continued quietly.
“If Grace is Julian’s daughter, nobody touches her.”
It was not a promise.
It sounded more like a law.
Hannah finally gave him the address.
Dominic sent two men.
Not Caruso men.
Former federal marshals employed through another company.
Their instructions were to watch.
Nothing more.
Within thirty minutes, the first called.
“Boss?”
“What?”
“Someone is already inside the apartment.”
Hannah went white.
Dominic placed the call on speaker.
“How many?”
“Two that we’ve seen.”
“Police?”
“No.”
“Armed?”
“Yes.”
Hannah covered her mouth.
“They found it.”
Dominic’s voice remained calm.
“Do not engage.”
“But the bag—”
“I said do not engage.”
He ended the call.
“Why?” Hannah demanded. “Everything Julian left is in there.”
“That means they’re looking for something.”
“So?”
“So we let them show us what matters.”
Dominic contacted the building superintendent through an intermediary and obtained access to hallway security cameras.
For eleven minutes they watched grainy footage on his computer.
Two men entered Hannah’s apartment.
They emerged carrying nothing.
Then a third person arrived.
Dominic leaned forward.
A woman.
Tall.
Blonde.
Expensive coat.
Her face remained turned from the camera.
Hannah whispered, “I know her.”
Dominic looked at her.
“From where?”
“She came to my apartment after Julian died.”
“What?”
“She said she worked with him.”
“What name?”
“Rebecca.”
Dominic knew only one Rebecca connected to Julian.
Rebecca Sloan.
Vice president of compliance at Caruso Global.
She had resigned three days after Julian’s funeral and disappeared.
Dominic had assumed grief and fear drove her away.
Perhaps he had been wrong.
The woman entered Hannah’s apartment.
Six minutes later she left.
This time carrying something.
A red notebook.
Hannah gasped.
“That’s Julian’s.”
Dominic stared at the screen.
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know. It was locked in the bag.”
Dominic immediately called his men.
“Follow the woman. Do not let her see you.”
Minutes passed.
Grace fell asleep in Hannah’s arms.
Dominic stood at the window.
Then the phone rang.
“She’s heading toward Queens.”
“Stay with her.”
Five minutes later:
“She changed vehicles.”
Then:
“She entered a parking garage.”
Then silence.
Finally the operative called.
“We lost her.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“How?”
“She knew we were following.”
That changed everything.
“She expected surveillance,” Dominic said.
Hannah hugged Grace closer.
“Who is she?”
“Someone who worked with Julian.”
“Friend?”
“I thought so.”
Dominic stared at the frozen image of Rebecca carrying the red notebook.
His phone buzzed again.
This time Samuel.
“I found something else.”
“What?”
“Three weeks before Julian died, he created a private audit.”
“Where is it?”
“Deleted.”
“Recover it.”
“I’m trying.”
“Anything left?”
“One line in an archived system note.”
Dominic waited.
Samuel read it.
“Project Lazarus. Authorization originates inside executive family structure.”
Dominic frowned.
“Executive family structure?”
“There are only four people that could mean.”
Dominic knew.
Himself.
Julian.
Vincent.
And Dominic’s cousin Marco Caruso, chief operating officer of the shipping division.
Julian was dead.
Dominic knew he had not authorized anything.
Which left Vincent or Marco.
Unless someone had stolen credentials.
“What does Lazarus mean?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Dominic ended the call.
Hannah was watching him.
“Project Lazarus?”
“You heard.”
“Julian said that word once.”
Dominic turned sharply.
“When?”
“The night before he died.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Hannah closed her eyes, searching the memory.
“He came home late. He was terrified.”
“Julian didn’t scare easily.”
“I know.”
“He kept saying he should have seen it sooner.”
“What?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Hannah.”
“I’m trying.”
She held Grace closer.
“Then he said, ‘Lazarus isn’t about moving cargo.’”
Dominic felt cold.
“What is it about?”
Hannah opened her eyes.
“He said, ‘It’s about bringing dead men back to life.’”
Dominic stared at her.
Before he could answer, his private desk phone rang.
Not the secure phone.
The internal line.
Dominic picked it up.
Vincent’s voice came through.
“Dominic, I think we have a serious problem.”
“What problem?”
“Someone accessed Julian’s old corporate credentials today.”
Dominic’s eyes moved toward Hannah.
“Who?”
“We’re tracing it.”
Vincent paused.
“But there’s something stranger.”
Dominic waited.
“The access came from inside your penthouse.”
Silence.
May you like
Then Vincent said quietly:
“Dominic, whoever is digging into Julian’s death is in the building with you.”
