Chương 12
“And rich.”
“Yes.”
The admission surprised Martin.
Dominic continued.
“And careless about anything my father told me did not concern me.”
Martin’s expression tightened.
“You expect that to mean something?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“It means I am not going to lie to you.”
“You lie for a living.”
“Sometimes.”
Martin blinked.
Dominic glanced at Ethan.
“But not about this.”
Martin’s eyes flashed.
“You want me to believe you changed.”
“I don’t care what you believe about me.”
“Then why talk?”
“To keep you talking.”
Martin’s hand moved.
A black handgun appeared.
Lily screamed.
Everything in me went cold.
Martin pressed the weapon against Ethan’s ribs.
Dominic stopped breathing.
I could see it.
Not fear for himself.
Calculation collapsing under one fact.
His son was inches from a gun.
“Put it down,” Dominic said.
“No.”
“You made your point.”
“I haven’t even started.”
“You targeted an eight-year-old.”
“I targeted you.”
“You poisoned his cake.”
“I didn’t touch the cake.”
“Your people did.”
Martin’s gaze flicked toward Lily.
“Not exactly.”
I followed it.
“Rebecca.”
He smiled faintly.
“She was supposed to contaminate the cake.”
My stomach turned.
“No.”
“She agreed.”
“No.”
“She needed money.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“You’re lying.”
Martin shrugged.
“She owed the wrong people.”
“What people?”
“People who don’t forgive.”
“Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Not tonight.”
I stared at him.
“She thought she was helping frame me.”
Martin looked pleased.
“There you go.”
Dominic’s eyes shifted toward me.
Martin continued.
“Claire gets blamed for harming Ethan.”
“Why?”
“Because Dominic loses the one employee everyone believes he trusts.”
I laughed once.
It came out ugly.
“You think losing a housekeeper destroys him?”
“No.”
Martin’s smile returned.
“Losing control destroys him.”
Dominic said nothing.
“The point was not Claire.”
Martin nodded toward me.
“She was evidence.”
I felt sick.
“Evidence of what?”
“That someone close could reach his son.”
Dominic’s voice turned hard.
“You intended Ethan to survive.”
Martin looked at him.
“At first.”
The words landed like a blow.
Ethan’s face went pale.
I stepped forward again.
Martin raised the gun slightly.
“Stay there.”
“What changed?”
Dominic asked.
Martin’s mouth tightened.
“Rebecca.”
I thought of the reflection.
Rebecca beside the cake.
Rebecca arguing that the boy was not supposed to touch it until after the speech.
“She refused.”
Martin nodded.
“She got scared.”
“She knew Ethan could die.”
“She knew what she was told.”
“What was she told?”
“That the dose would trigger an emergency response.”
Dr. Harris had said concentrated amount.
Seconds.
My hands started trembling.
“She believed you.”
“She needed to.”
“And then?”
“Then she heard the real plan.”
Dominic’s voice was quiet.
“Which was?”
Martin looked at him.
“You were supposed to give the birthday toast.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“I did.”
“Your phone would be on the table.”
The stolen second phone.
The active network.
The archive.
It connected.
“They needed you distracted while Ethan collapsed.”
Martin smiled.
“Chaos is useful.”
Dominic looked at the device.
“What were they accessing?”
“The old records.”
“What records?”
“Your father’s private archive.”
I looked between them.
“Why?”
Martin’s face twisted.
“Because dead men leave paperwork.”
Dominic’s expression shifted.
Something old and ugly appeared there.
“My father kept leverage files.”
“Yes.”
“On employees.”
“On everyone.”
“And someone wants them.”
“Someone wants one.”
“Michael’s.”
Martin’s voice broke.
“My brother did not carry that gun for himself.”
Dominic said nothing.
“He was ordered.”
“By my father?”
“By someone above him.”
“Who?”
Martin’s face tightened.
“That is what the file proves.”
The corridor behind us remained silent.
Too silent.
I looked at the phone again.
“If this was about getting proof, why poison Ethan?”
Martin’s eyes moved to mine.
“Because I stopped believing proof was enough.”
There it was.
The part Rebecca had not understood.
Maybe the part even Martin had not admitted to himself until the plan became real.
“You wanted Dominic to suffer.”
“Yes.”
“For your brother.”
“Yes.”
“You decided Ethan could pay for his grandfather.”
Martin flinched.
“He’s a Moretti.”
“He’s eight.”
“My niece was four when she lost her father.”
“That did not make Ethan responsible.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
His voice rose for the first time.
Ethan flinched harder.
Martin noticed.
His face changed.
Shame crossed it.
Small.
Immediate.
Gone.
I held on to it.
“You do know.”
Martin glared at me.
“Shut up.”
“You know.”
“I said shut up.”
“You keep saying you don’t want to hurt them.”
“Claire.”
Dominic’s warning was low.
I ignored it.
“You could have shot Ethan already.”
Martin’s breathing changed.
“But you haven’t.”
“Because he’s useful.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You’re angry enough to build this whole thing, but not enough to look at him while you do it.”
Martin looked down.
For one second, his eyes met Ethan’s.
Ethan did not speak.
His lower lip trembled.
Martin looked away first.
I took one slow step.
The gun swung toward me.
“Stop.”
I stopped.
“You hate Dominic.”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
Dominic turned his head.
“Claire.”
“Let me finish.”
Martin watched me.
I pointed at Ethan.
“That boy is not Dominic.”
“No.”
“And Lily is not Rebecca.”
His jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“Then let Lily come to me.”
“No.”
“She is not leverage.”
“She is exactly leverage.”
“For what?”
Martin did not answer.
And suddenly I understood.
Not all of it.
Enough.
“For Rebecca.”
His expression changed.
Dominic saw it.
“She’s alive.”
Martin’s silence answered.
I moved before I could think better of it.
One step.
Then another.
The gun rose.
Dominic moved too.
“Claire, stop.”
“No.”
Martin’s hand shook.
I saw it now.
Not much.
Enough.
“You need Lily because Rebecca will come back for her.”
Martin stared at me.
“She won’t leave Lily.”
“No.”
“You knew that.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my sister would come back.”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
He said nothing.
I stepped again.
Ethan whispered, “Dad.”
Dominic’s voice remained steady.
“I’m here.”
I looked at Martin.
“Where is Rebecca?”
Martin’s eyes shifted toward the exterior door.
Just once.
That was enough.
A sound came from outside.
May you like
Metal scraping against concrete.
Martin turned his head.
