Chapter 2 - The Man Who Came Looking for MeFor three seconds, nobody moved.
Then the ballroom exploded.
Women screamed.
Glass shattered.
Someone knocked over a table.
The string quartet stopped in the middle of a note.
Emergency lights flickered weakly along the walls, bathing hundreds of guests in a dim red glow.
“Claire.”
Dominic's voice was directly beside me.
His hand found mine.
Not my waist.
Not my arm.
My hand.
“Stay with me.”
“What happened?”
“I don't know yet.”
Something in his tone told me that wasn't entirely true.
Across the darkness, Nathan shouted my name.
“Claire!”
Dominic pulled me behind him.
“Don't move.”
Two men appeared almost immediately.
I hadn't noticed them earlier, but I recognized them now as guests who had been standing near different exits.
Neither looked panicked.
Both wore black suits.
Both moved directly toward Dominic.
Security.
His security.
“East corridor clear,” one said.
“Elevators?”
“Locked.”
Dominic nodded.
“Use the service stairs.”
I grabbed his arm.
“Wait. Where's Emily?”
A scream came from somewhere near the marble arch.
“Claire!”
My sister.
I turned instinctively.
Dominic caught my shoulders.
“No.”
“She's my sister.”
“She may not be alone.”
“I don't care.”
I pulled away and ran.
I heard Dominic swear behind me.
People crowded toward the exits, creating chaos beneath the emergency lights.
“Emily!”
“Here!”
I found her crouched beside an overturned chair.
Nathan was gone.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
Her voice shook.
“He ran.”
Of course he did.
I grabbed her hand.
“Come on.”
Dominic reached us seconds later.
He looked at Emily.
His expression hardened.
“You're coming too.”
Emily stared at him.
“Who are you?”
“Someone keeping you alive.”
“That doesn't answer—”
“Move.”
We moved.
His security men created a path through a staff entrance.
The service hallway looked horribly familiar.
Less than half an hour ago, I had stood in one just like it and watched my fiancé kiss my sister.
Now I was running through another while a suspected former crime boss escorted us out of a ballroom under mysterious blackout conditions.
My life had become unrecognizable.
Dominic led us down two flights of stairs.
“Was the blackout because of you?” I demanded.
“No.”
“Because of Nathan?”
“Possibly.”
“That's not an answer.”
“You're asking questions while we're moving.”
“I can do both.”
For the first time, one of his security men almost smiled.
Dominic didn't.
We reached an underground parking level.
A black SUV was waiting.
The driver opened the rear door.
“I am not getting into that car,” I said.
Dominic looked at me.
“You're safer inside it.”
“According to whom?”
“Me.”
“That's exactly the problem.”
Emily grabbed my arm.
“Claire, please.”
I turned toward her.
Her mascara had begun running.
Only an hour earlier, I would have comforted her automatically.
Now I remembered Nathan's hand in her hair.
I pulled my arm away.
“Don't touch me.”
Her face crumpled.
“Claire—”
“Not now.”
Dominic watched us.
He didn't ask questions.
That somehow made everything worse.
His phone rang.
He answered.
“Yes.”
He listened.
His expression changed.
“Where?”
Another pause.
“Seal the floor.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Someone entered the private suite assigned to you.”
My stomach dropped.
“My room?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They weren't looking for jewelry.”
“How do you know?”
“Because your jewelry is still there.”
I stared at him.
“What did they take?”
“We don't know yet.”
Dominic opened the SUV door.
“Now will you get in?”
I did.
Emily followed.
Dominic sat opposite us.
The vehicle moved before the doors seemed completely closed.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
New York slid past the windows.
I looked down at my engagement ring.
Then pulled it off.
It left a pale indentation around my finger.
I set it on the seat beside me.
Emily stared at it.
Tears filled her eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
I looked at her.
“Eight months?”
She closed her eyes.
“Claire—”
“Was it eight months?”
“Yes.”
The word almost didn't hurt anymore.
Maybe because too many other things had happened.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
I laughed.
“You slept with my fiancé for eight months and you don't know why?”
“I loved him.”
That hurt.
I looked out the window.
Emily continued.
“I know what I did was horrible.”
“Horrible?”
“I didn't mean for it to happen.”
“Eight months is not something that happens.”
She started crying.
Normally, her tears could undo me.
We had been close our entire lives.
When our mother died, Emily was nineteen and I was twenty-six. I handled the funeral arrangements. I helped her finish college. I paid part of her rent during her first year in the city.
She had been more than my sister.
She had been the person I trusted most.
“Did Nathan love you?” I asked.
Emily hesitated.
That was enough.
“He said he did.”
“But?”
“He kept saying he couldn't leave you yet.”
“Why?”
Emily looked toward Dominic.
Then back at me.
“I thought it was because of the foundation.”
Dominic's gaze sharpened.
“What foundation?”
“The Blake-Wexler Foundation.”
I frowned.
“What about it?”
Emily twisted her hands.
“Nathan said marrying Claire was important for the merger.”
“What merger?”
Emily's face drained.
“I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
She looked at Dominic again.
He leaned forward.
“Tell her.”
Emily swallowed.
“Nathan's company is trying to acquire controlling interest in Blake Holdings.”
My father's company.
I stared at her.
“That isn't possible.”
Blake Holdings wasn't publicly traded.
After Dad died, his shares had been divided.
Forty-one percent came to me.
Twenty percent to Emily.
The rest sat in a trust controlled by the Blake family board.
Nathan had always claimed he wanted nothing to do with it.
He had even refused when I offered him a board seat.
Emily whispered, “Your marriage would trigger the trust clause.”
I felt cold.
“What clause?”
“I don't know exactly.”
Dominic spoke.
“I do.”
I looked at him.
Of course he did.
“Then tell me.”
He watched me for a long moment.
“When your father created the family trust, he included a provision regarding marriage.”
“How would you know that?”
“I knew your father.”
The car suddenly felt too small.
“You knew my father?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Later.”
“No. Now.”
Dominic leaned back.
“Your father was one of my closest friends.”
I stared at him.
I had never heard Dominic Bellardi's name from my father.
Not once.
“My father hated organized crime.”
“So did I.”
I nearly laughed.
“Newspapers called you a crime boss.”
“Newspapers have called me worse.”
“Did you know him or not?”
“Yes.”
“How well?”
“Well enough that he asked me to protect you if something happened to him.”
Everything inside me stopped.
Dad had died six years earlier from what doctors called a sudden cardiac event.
There had been no warning.
No suspicion.
Nothing.
“Protect me from what?”
Dominic's expression darkened.
“He never had the chance to tell me.”
I remembered Nathan at the gala.
He came here for you.
“That's why you were there tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Why tonight?”
“Because three weeks ago, I learned Nathan had begun moving assets through companies connected to Blake Holdings.”
My throat tightened.
“What companies?”
“Shell corporations.”
“How much?”
“At least thirty-eight million dollars.”
Emily gasped.
I couldn't speak.
Dominic continued.
“I started investigating. Two days ago, one of my accountants discovered something more concerning.”
“What?”
“Your father's death certificate was amended six years ago.”
I stared at him.
“What do you mean amended?”
“The original toxicology report was removed.”
My chest tightened.
“No.”
“Claire—”
“No.”
Dad had collapsed at his desk.
I had been the one to identify his body.
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“Why would anyone change a toxicology report?”
Dominic didn't answer immediately.
I already knew.
“Because he didn't die naturally.”
Silence filled the SUV.
Emily began crying again.
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
“This is insane.”
“Yes.”
“Nathan was twenty-six when Dad died.”
“Yes.”
“He barely knew me then.”
Dominic's eyes remained on mine.
“You met Nathan three months after your father's funeral.”
I froze.
I had never thought about that timing.
Nathan and I met at a charity fundraiser.
He bumped into me near the coat check.
He made me laugh for the first time since Dad died.
I had always called it fate.
Now the memory felt contaminated.
“You think Nathan planned meeting me?”
“I think it's possible.”
My stomach turned.
The SUV entered a private underground garage.
Steel doors closed behind us.
“Where are we?”
“My home.”
“I don't want to be here.”
“You have nowhere safer tonight.”
“I have my apartment.”
“Someone entered your hotel suite during a blackout.”
He held my gaze.
“Do you really want to discover whether they also know where you live?”
No.
I didn't.
The elevator opened directly into a penthouse overlooking Manhattan.
It wasn't what I expected.
No gold statues.
No armed men standing everywhere.
The apartment was elegant but restrained.
Dark wood.
Books.
Old photographs.
Dominic's security team spread throughout the rooms.
Emily sat on the edge of a sofa.
I remained standing.
Dominic removed his tuxedo jacket.
“Coffee?”
“You've just told me my dead father may have been murdered and my fiancé may have been using me to steal my family company.”
He nodded.
“So coffee.”
I stared at him.
Then, despite everything, a laugh escaped me.
It sounded almost hysterical.
Dominic disappeared into the kitchen.
Emily whispered, “Claire.”
I didn't look at her.
“I didn't know.”
“About what?”
“The company.”
“You knew he wanted to marry me for it.”
“No. I thought he loved you and also wanted the merger.”
“That's supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
At least she had the sense to admit that.
Dominic returned with coffee.
I took it but didn't drink.
“Show me proof.”
He nodded.
A security man placed a folder on the table.
Inside were financial documents.
Company names.
Bank transfers.
Signatures.
Nathan's signature appeared repeatedly.
Then I saw another name.
Emily Wexler Holdings.
I looked at my sister.
Her face went white.
“What is this?”
“I've never seen that.”
“It has your name.”
“I didn't create it.”
Dominic took the document.
“Established eleven months ago.”
The month Nathan and I got engaged.
Emily shook her head.
“No.”
Dominic turned another page.
“Beneficiary: Emily Blake.”
My sister looked physically sick.
Nathan had used her too.
Not emotionally.
Legally.
Financially.
Maybe criminally.
Then Dominic's phone vibrated.
He looked at the message.
His face became completely still.
“What?” I asked.
He showed me the screen.
A photograph.
Taken tonight.
Me.
Standing inside the gala.
Dominic beside me.
The image had been sent from an unknown number.
Underneath were six words.
SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO MEET YOU.
My hands went numb.
A second message arrived.
Dominic read it.
Then looked at me.
“What does it say?”
He hesitated.
“Dominic.”
He turned the phone toward me.
THIS ENDS THE WAY IT STARTED.
ASK HER WHO KILLED CHARLES BLAKE.
I stopped breathing.
Charles Blake.
My father.
Before I could speak, Emily made a strange choking sound.
I turned.
She was staring at the message.
And for the first time all night, the guilt on her face had nothing to do with Nathan.
“Emily?”
She began shaking.
“Claire, there's something I never told you about the night Dad died.”
May you like
And suddenly, I knew the betrayal I'd discovered in that service hallway wasn't the worst secret my sister had been keeping from me.
Not even close.
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