Chương 7
On the third night, Ivy appeared wearing one sock.
“You’re still here,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You asked me to keep coming back.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before we lived here.”
He set aside the folder on his lap. “Does the request expire?”
She thought about it. “Maybe.”
“All right. Tell me when.”
Ivy sat beside him on the floor. After a while, she leaned against his arm.
“Mommy didn’t like closed doors,” she said.
“Neither did she when I knew her.”
“She said locked rooms make people bad.”
Dominic looked toward the open bedroom.
“Your mother said a lot of smart things.”
“She said bad words too.”
“That also sounds like her.”
Ivy’s mouth twitched.
The routine of caring for them exposed weaknesses no enemy had managed to find. Dominic could negotiate a construction contract across three unions but could not tie Ivy’s hair evenly. He burned oatmeal because Skye began crying in the bathroom. He discovered that children could reject food they had requested less than four minutes earlier.
He also discovered how quickly fear became ordinary.
A motorcycle backfired outside the house, and both girls dropped beneath the kitchen table. Dominic’s security team moved before thought, one man reaching beneath his jacket.
Dominic saw Ivy watching.
He dismissed the entire team from the interior rooms that afternoon.
His security chief objected. “You’re reducing protection during an active custody dispute.”
“I’m changing how it looks.”
“Threats don’t care how it looks.”
“Children do.”
The man hesitated. “Your enemies know about them now.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “How?”
A local news site had published the first story that morning: ALLEGED CRIME FIGURE CLAIMS SECRET TWINS AFTER HEIRESS FOUND DEAD.
The article included a photograph of Dominic leaving the hospital and an older society photograph of Claire. It named Margaret as a grieving grandmother seeking protection for the children.
The twins’ names were withheld, but their existence was not.
Dominic called Helen.
“Do not call the publisher,” she said before he finished speaking.
“I wasn’t going to call the publisher.”
“You were going to call someone who knows the publisher.”
He glanced toward the kitchen, where Ivy was lining crackers along the edge of a plate. “Find out where the leak came from.”
“Legally?”
“Yes.”
Helen paused. “Good.”
The source proved easy to infer and difficult to establish. Only the Whitmore legal team, Dominic’s team, county officials, and a handful of medical personnel had access to the relevant details. Margaret denied responsibility. Ethan claimed the publicity harmed everyone. Lauren did not answer calls for two days.
Then she appeared at Dominic’s gate carrying a cardboard archive box.
Security asked whether to admit her.
Dominic looked through the monitor. Lauren wore jeans, a camel coat, and no makeup. Without polish, she appeared younger and more frightened.
He allowed her into the front sitting room. She did not ask to see the girls.
“I left Ethan,” she said.
Dominic remained standing. “Why?”
“Because he admitted he knew Claire was alive before we were married.”
“That information affects your vows?”
“It affects every conversation we’ve ever had about his family.”
She placed the box on the table. “These are copies of financial records from his home office.”
“Did you steal them?”
“They’re marital records. My lawyer says I had access.”
“Your lawyer approved bringing them to me?”
“My lawyer advised me not to do anything while angry.”
“And yet.”
Lauren gave a brittle smile. “You’ve met me.”
Dominic opened the box. Inside were bank statements, trust disbursements, insurance forms, and printed emails. Some dated back nearly four years.
“Why give me these?”
“Because Margaret told the press you threatened Claire during pregnancy.”
Dominic looked up.
“She gave them photographs of bruises on Claire’s wrist.”
His stomach hardened. “I never struck her.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know anything about us.”
“I know the photographs were taken after Claire fell on ice outside my engagement dinner. I was there. Ethan drove her to urgent care.”
Dominic remembered the evening. Claire had arrived late, shaken snow from her coat, and hidden her sore wrist beneath the table. She had not told him she fell.
Lauren tapped one file. “The clinic record is in there.”
“Why would Margaret use those photographs?”
“To make the story simple.”
“And you object to simplicity now?”
Her expression sharpened. “I grabbed a box from a hungry child because I assumed anything valuable in that house belonged more naturally to me than to her. I have been thinking about simple stories.”
Dominic closed the file.
Lauren looked toward the hallway. “How are they?”
“Not your concern.”
“No. But I’m asking.”
“They wake at night. Ivy counts food. Skye hides when the doorbell rings.”
Lauren lowered her eyes.
“The article came from Margaret,” she said. “I heard her discussing it with the public-relations firm.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I recorded part of the call.”
Dominic’s gaze hardened.
“It was in my house,” Lauren said. “I started recording after she said Claire’s fear would be more believable if the public saw you before the court did.”
“Send it to Helen.”
“I already did.”
He studied her for a moment. “Why did Ethan marry you?”
The question offended her. Good. Offense often stripped away performance.
“Because he loved me.”
“Did he?”
Lauren’s eyes filled, but her voice stayed steady. “Some days.”
She left without asking for thanks.
Among the records was a series of monthly transfers from the Claire Whitmore Preservation Trust to a company called Northstar Domestic Consulting. The company had no public employees and a registered address at a mailbox store in Milwaukee.
Helen traced the company through court records. Its owner had once worked as a private investigator for Margaret’s late husband.
Payments continued until six weeks before Claire’s death.
Then they stopped.
The same week, Claire used a prepaid phone to call Dominic’s primary office three times.
May you like
No calls had been logged.
Dominic summoned his longtime office manager, Vincent Salerno, to the restaurant after closing. Vincent had worked for Dominic’s father before working for him. He knew every family secret and behaved as though silence made him honorable.
