Chapter 2 - The File With Her Name
Clara waited until Dominic fell asleep before leaving the bed.
At least, she thought he was asleep.
He lay on his back beneath the dark sheets, one arm resting across his stomach. Moonlight from the tall bedroom windows cut across his face.
Dominic slept differently from ordinary men.
Lightly.
Carefully.
As though some part of him remained awake no matter how exhausted his body became.
For the last five months, Clara had found that sad.
Tonight, she found it useful.
She slid from beneath the covers.
Her bare feet touched the cold floor.
Dominic did not move.
Clara crossed the room and took her robe from the chair.
The confidential envelope was hidden inside the false bottom of her jewelry case.
She retrieved it and went into the dressing room.
Only then did she turn on the small lamp.
The documents shook slightly in her hands.
Clara reread them.
Property valuations.
Port authority correspondence.
Redevelopment projections.
A memorandum concerning municipal rezoning.
Every page said the same thing in a different language.
Her father had been sitting on a fortune.
Dominic knew.
Richard did not.
Or perhaps Richard had discovered the truth and died before he could act.
Clara’s throat tightened.
She remembered her father’s last week.
He had called her twice.
The first time, Clara was at dinner with Dominic and did not answer.
The second time, Richard sounded distracted.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
It irritated her.
“You traded me to your creditor, Dad. Why are you asking me that?”
Richard had gone quiet.
“I know what I did.”
“Then don’t ask.”
“I’m sorry.”
Those were the last words her father ever said to her.
The next morning, he died.
Clara had spent weeks hating herself for not saying goodbye.
Now another possibility entered her mind.
What if Richard had not called to apologize?
What if he had been trying to tell her something?
She searched the envelope again.
There.
A thin page stuck to the back of another sheet.
Clara pulled it free.
Her eyes stopped moving.
SUBJECT: CLARA BENNETT — PERSONAL SURVEILLANCE
The date was eight months before her marriage.
Before her father’s debt supposedly became catastrophic.
Before Clara had officially met Dominic.
She read.
Residence confirmed.
University schedule attached.
Known friends: Hannah Price, Megan Collins, Daniel Foster.
No serious romantic attachment.
Clara gripped the paper harder.
At the bottom was a handwritten note.
Dominic’s handwriting.
She knew it instantly.
Do not approach her yet.
A floorboard creaked behind her.
Clara spun around.
Dominic stood in the doorway.
He wore black pajama trousers and nothing else.
His expression was unreadable.
His eyes moved to the paper.
Then to Clara.
Neither spoke.
Clara should have been frightened.
Instead, she felt furious.
“You watched me.”
Dominic remained still.
“How long?”
“Clara—”
“How long?”
His jaw tightened.
“Several months.”
She laughed once.
It sounded nothing like her.
“Before my father owed you money.”
“Yes.”
The word landed like a slap.
Clara held up the file.
“You knew where I lived.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my classes.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my friends.”
“Yes.”
Her voice broke.
“You knew whether I was dating anyone?”
Dominic looked away for the first time.
Clara stared at him.
“Why?”
Silence.
“Why, Dominic?”
He entered the room.
Clara stepped backward.
He stopped immediately.
That small gesture almost hurt more than anything else.
Even now he was careful not to frighten her.
Was that part of the performance too?
“I first saw you at the Metropolitan Foundation dinner,” he said.
Clara remembered the event.
A charity gala nearly a year earlier.
Her father had attended with business associates.
Clara went because Richard begged her.
She remembered crowded tables.
Bad champagne.
A silent auction.
Nothing else.
“You were standing near the terrace,” Dominic continued. “You were arguing with your father.”
Clara’s face heated.
Richard had been pressuring her to join Bennett Maritime after graduation.
She wanted graduate school.
“You were spying on us?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I noticed you.”
Clara’s laugh was bitter.
“So you ordered surveillance?”
Dominic said nothing.
“That isn’t romantic.”
“I know.”
“That is insane.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
His gaze met hers.
“Because I wanted to know who you were.”
Clara shook her head.
“You didn’t know me.”
“No.”
“You still don’t.”
Something flickered across his expression.
Pain.
Maybe.
She no longer trusted herself enough to believe it.
Clara raised the file.
“Did you destroy my father?”
Dominic became completely still.
“Answer me.”
“The situation with Richard was complicated.”
“That means yes.”
“No.”
“Then explain it.”
Dominic looked toward the bedroom door.
“We should not have this conversation here.”
Clara laughed.
“Why? Are there microphones in your own house?”
His silence told her more than his words.
Clara stared.
“Oh my God.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“Lower your voice.”
“No.”
“Clara.”
“No!”
Her voice echoed through the dressing room.
She had never yelled at him before.
Dominic’s expression sharpened.
Not anger.
Concern.
Clara did not care.
“My father died believing he ruined everything. Did you make that happen?”
“No.”
“Did you manipulate the value of the docks?”
Dominic hesitated.
“Yes.”
Clara’s eyes filled.
He continued quickly.
“But not for the reason you think.”
“What reason could possibly make that better?”
Dominic rubbed a hand across his jaw.
“Your father was being targeted by someone else.”
Clara froze.
“Who?”
“I didn’t know at first.”
“Convenient.”
“Richard started borrowing from private lenders before he came to me.”
“I know.”
“No. You know what he told you.”
Clara’s anger faltered slightly.
Dominic continued.
“The loans were designed to fail.”
“What does that mean?”
“The terms changed after signing. Interest increased. Collateral was moved. Payment deadlines were deliberately manipulated.”
Clara stared.
“Someone wanted Bennett Maritime.”
“Yes.”
“You?”
“At first, I thought so.”
Her eyebrows drew together.
Dominic gave a humorless smile.
“I wanted the docks. I won’t lie about that.”
“At least we’ve reached honesty.”
“I knew rezoning was coming. Your father did not. I intended to buy the properties cheaply.”
Clara flinched.
Dominic’s voice softened.
“I am not asking you to forgive that.”
“Good.”
“But by the time Richard came to me, another group had already cornered him.”
“Who?”
“We never proved it.”
Clara held up the surveillance report.
“Then why were you watching me before any of that?”
Dominic looked at her.
This time, his answer came quietly.
“Because the moment I saw you, I knew you would become leverage against him.”
Clara stopped breathing.
There it was.
The truth.
Not love.
Strategy.
Dominic saw something in her face.
“That came out wrong.”
“No. I think it came out perfectly.”
“Clara—”
“You saw me and thought, Richard Bennett loves his daughter. She can be useful.”
“That is not what happened.”
“You literally just said I was leverage.”
“I said I knew others would use you.”
“Others?”
“Yes.”
“Not you?”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“I married you.”
Clara laughed bitterly.
“Exactly.”
He took another step.
She backed into the dressing table.
“Stay away from me.”
Dominic stopped.
The silence became enormous.
Then Clara asked the question that had been destroying her since the study.
“Did you ever love me?”
Dominic’s eyes changed.
For the first time that night, his composure cracked.
“Clara.”
“That is not an answer.”
He looked toward the documents.
“The things you heard tonight—”
“Were they lies?”
He hesitated.
Clara felt her heart break again.
“Were they lies?”
“Some were.”
“Which ones?”
Dominic rubbed his thumb against his palm.
A nervous habit Clara had discovered months earlier.
“The marriage being necessary.”
“True?”
“Yes.”
“The properties?”
“Yes.”
“My usefulness becoming smaller?”
He looked away.
“Dominic.”
“That was said for Camila.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means there are conversations where honesty is dangerous.”
Clara shook her head.
“You expect me to believe you were pretending not to care about me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody in that room is betraying me.”
Clara stared.
Dominic continued.
“I have known for three months that information is leaving this house.”
“And you think it’s Camila?”
“Maybe.”
“Vincent?”
“Maybe.”
“Luca?”
“Maybe.”
Clara looked toward the bedroom.
“This is ridiculous.”
“It is my life.”
“No, Dominic. It became my life the second you married me without telling me any of this.”
He accepted that without argument.
Clara returned her attention to the file.
“Did my father know someone was targeting him?”
“Yes.”
Her head snapped up.
“You spoke to him about it?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The night before he died.”
Clara went cold.
Dominic’s face changed as soon as he realized what he had admitted.
“You saw my father the night before he died?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At his house.”
Clara stared at him.
“You told me you hadn’t seen him that week.”
Dominic said nothing.
“Why did you lie?”
“Because Richard asked me to.”
“Why?”
Dominic hesitated.
Clara took one step toward him.
“Why?”
“He discovered who had arranged the loans.”
Clara’s heart pounded.
“Who?”
Dominic looked at the door again.
Then lowered his voice.
“Someone connected to my family.”
Clara’s throat tightened.
“Who?”
Before Dominic could answer, a sharp electronic sound came from the bedroom.
His phone.
Dominic crossed the room instantly.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He did not answer.
“Dominic?”
He opened a security application.
One camera feed showed the study.
The door was open.
The room was empty.
Dominic swore quietly.
“What happened?”
“The safe.”
He left the bedroom.
Clara followed despite herself.
They moved quickly through the dark upper corridor and down the stairs.
Two guards were already approaching the study.
Luca appeared from another hallway.
“What is it?”
Dominic entered the study.
The wall safe behind a painting stood open.
Empty.
Luca’s face hardened.
“That was locked twenty minutes ago.”
“What was inside?” Clara asked.
Dominic looked at her.
For a second, she knew he was considering another lie.
Then he answered.
“Your father’s original loan records.”
Clara’s stomach dropped.
“Who knew they were here?”
“Three people.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Dominic looked at Luca.
“Luca.”
Then toward the empty doorway.
“And Camila.”
Clara’s pulse quickened.
“Where is she?”
Nobody answered.
A guard entered.
“Mr. Russo.”
Dominic turned.
“Mrs. Rossi left the estate eleven minutes ago.”
Clara and Dominic exchanged a look.
Then the guard added something worse.
“She wasn’t alone.”
“Who was with her?” Dominic asked.
The guard hesitated.
“Vincent Corelli.”
Silence.
Dominic’s face became unreadable.
Luca reached for his phone.
Clara stared at the empty safe.
The evidence explaining her father’s ruin had disappeared the same night Clara discovered it existed.
That could not be coincidence.
Then something white beneath Dominic’s desk caught her eye.
A folded sheet of paper.
Clara bent and picked it up.
Dominic noticed.
“What is that?”
She unfolded it.
One sentence had been printed across the center.
ASK DOMINIC WHAT HAPPENED AT 2:17 A.M. THE NIGHT YOUR FATHER DIED.
Clara slowly looked at her husband.
Dominic had gone pale.
May you like
And for the first time since Clara had known him, the most feared man in the room looked genuinely afraid.
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