Chapter 2 - The Symbol on the Dog
I had spent the last six months avoiding Dominic Cray’s attention.
Now I had all of it.
“Where did he get this?”
The electronic voice from Dominic’s tablet seemed unnaturally loud inside the quiet conservatory.
I stared at the little brass charm resting in his palm.
“I don’t know.”
Dominic’s eyes lifted to mine.
I corrected myself quickly.
“The stuffed dog belonged to Marcus’s father.”
Something moved across Dominic’s face.
Marcus hugged the dog protectively.
“Mine.”
Dominic looked at him.
I kept my face toward Dominic.
“His father left before Marcus was born. Almost. He stayed long enough to disappear.”
Dominic typed.
“Name.”
I hesitated.
I had spent years trying not to say it.
“Evan Mercer.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
Victor, standing near the doorway, went rigid.
That was the moment I knew.
Not suspected.
Knew.
Someone in that room recognized the name.
Dominic’s reaction was controlled.
Victor’s wasn’t.
His eyes had flicked toward Dominic before returning to me.
A mistake.
A tiny one.
But I saw it.
Dominic typed again.
“Full name.”
“Evan James Mercer.”
Marcus tugged my sleeve.
“Mommy, home?”
“In a minute.”
Dominic rose from his chair.
He wasn’t enormous, but something about the way he stood made the room feel smaller.
Victor stepped forward.
“Mr. Cray, perhaps this is not the appropriate time.”
Dominic looked at him.
Victor stopped speaking.
Dominic signed something with quick, precise movements.
Victor’s jaw tightened.
I didn’t understand the signs.
But I understood rejection.
Victor backed away.
Dominic turned to me and typed.
“Sit.”
It wasn’t really a request.
I sat with Marcus beside me.
Dominic opened a drawer in a cabinet near the window.
From inside, he removed a black leather case.
He placed it on the table.
Opened it.
Inside was a silver keychain.
Attached to it was the same symbol.
A circle.
Three dividing lines.
I stared at it.
“What is that?”
Dominic’s fingers hovered over the tablet.
He didn’t type immediately.
Instead, he looked toward Victor.
Victor spoke carefully.
“It was the mark of an old security division.”
Dominic’s eyes flashed.
Victor corrected himself.
“An internal division. Years ago.”
I looked at Dominic.
“Evan worked for you?”
Dominic typed.
“Not for me.”
Pause.
“With me.”
My stomach dropped.
Marcus was playing with the stuffed dog’s ear, oblivious to the fact that his father had just stepped out of the graveyard of my memories.
“How?”
Dominic typed for several seconds.
The tablet spoke.
“Evan Mercer was part of a five-person security team assigned to me four years ago.”
I stared at him.
“He told me he worked in logistics.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“He lied.”
“That part doesn’t surprise me.”
Something that might almost have been sympathy touched Dominic’s face.
Almost.
I looked toward Victor.
He was watching us too closely.
“What happened to him?”
Dominic’s fingers stilled.
Then he typed.
“He disappeared three years ago.”
The timing struck me instantly.
Three years ago.
The same period Dominic lost his hearing.
Marcus climbed onto my lap.
I wrapped my arms around him.
“After your accident?”
Dominic didn’t answer.
He looked down at Marcus instead.
Marcus stared back.
Then pointed at Dominic’s tablet.
“Robot talks.”
To my shock, Dominic’s mouth moved.
Not a smile exactly.
But close.
Marcus leaned toward the screen.
“Say dinosaur.”
Dominic blinked.
“Marcus,” I whispered.
He ignored me.
“Dinosaur.”
Dominic typed.
The tablet said, “Dinosaur.”
Marcus laughed.
The sound filled the room.
Dominic’s expression changed again.
He couldn’t hear the laughter.
But he could see it.
Marcus bounced on my knee.
“Again!”
Dominic typed.
“Dinosaur.”
Marcus laughed harder.
For those few seconds, Dominic Cray didn’t look powerful.
Or dangerous.
He looked like a man standing outside a window, watching warmth inside a house he had forgotten how to enter.
Victor interrupted.
“It’s late. Elena should take the child home.”
Dominic looked at him sharply.
Then typed.
“She finishes her shift.”
Victor stared.
“And tomorrow?”
Dominic’s eyes remained on him.
“She returns.”
My breath caught.
Victor’s mouth tightened.
“Mr. Cray, staff rules exist for a reason.”
Dominic’s fingers moved.
“So do mine.”
Victor nodded once.
“Of course.”
But when he looked at me, his eyes promised that this wasn’t finished.
Dominic returned the silver keychain to the case.
Then he held out his hand toward Marcus.
The brass charm remained in his palm.
Marcus frowned.
“My dog.”
Dominic pointed to the ribbon, then to the charm.
He looked at Marcus as if asking permission.
Marcus thought about it.
Then nodded solemnly.
“Okay. But give back.”
Dominic nodded.
He took a photograph of the symbol with his tablet.
Then tied the charm back onto the dog with surprising care.
Marcus watched closely.
When Dominic finished, Marcus held out his little hand.
Dominic looked confused.
Marcus touched his own fingertips to his chin and pushed them outward again.
Thank you.
Dominic slowly mirrored the gesture.
Marcus smiled.
Victor looked sick.
That scared me more than anything.
Because Victor had spent nine years managing Dominic’s household. He had seen politicians, CEOs, foreign businessmen, famous athletes, and people whose names never appeared in newspapers walk through those doors.
But a three-year-old saying thank you in sign language frightened him.
Why?
I finished my shift at eleven-thirty.
Dominic had Marcus moved to a small sitting room near the conservatory.
Someone brought him milk.
Someone else brought him a blanket.
By ten-thirty, he was asleep on a sofa with his head on the stuffed dog.
I was carrying my final tray toward the service kitchen when Victor stepped into the hallway.
“Elena.”
I stopped.
He came close enough that I could smell his expensive cologne.
“You embarrassed yourself tonight.”
“I know.”
“And Mr. Cray spared your job.”
“I’m grateful.”
“You should be more than grateful.”
His voice dropped.
“You should understand when fortune gives you an exit.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“Take your son home. Come back tomorrow. Do your work.”
He leaned closer.
“Do not discuss Evan Mercer with anyone.”
My skin prickled.
“Why?”
His expression went blank.
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
“You knew him.”
Victor’s eyes hardened.
“You are confusing employment with importance.”
“And you’re avoiding the question.”
That was reckless.
I knew it immediately.
Victor’s face became almost gentle.
“Elena, you have a child depending on you.”
The threat was wrapped in concern so neatly that nobody listening from a distance would have heard it.
I did.
I stepped away.
“Good night, Mr. Strand.”
He caught my wrist.
Not hard.
Just enough.
I froze.
His eyes stayed on mine.
“Some doors improve your life by remaining closed.”
Then he released me.
I walked away without answering.
My hands shook all the way to the sitting room.
Dominic was there.
He stood near the window while Marcus slept.
When I entered, his gaze dropped immediately to my wrist.
Victor’s fingers had left faint red marks.
Dominic looked toward the hallway.
Then back at me.
I shook my head.
“It’s nothing.”
He didn’t believe me.
But he didn’t push.
Instead, he handed me his tablet.
A message was already typed.
Evan saved my life.
I read it twice.
Then looked at Dominic.
He typed another sentence.
The night I lost my hearing.
My chest tightened.
“What happened?”
Dominic stared at the sleeping child.
Then typed.
I remember an explosion.
A stairwell.
Blood on the wall.
Evan pulling me through smoke.
Then nothing.
I swallowed.
“And after?”
I woke in a private hospital.
Evan was gone.
I looked at Marcus.
“Did they say he died?”
No body.
No confirmation.
I felt anger rise through old grief.
“So he could still be alive.”
Dominic held my gaze.
Possible.
Three years.
Three years of believing a man who abandoned his child might have been dead.
Or hiding.
Or running.
Or protecting us.
I didn’t know which possibility hurt most.
Marcus shifted in his sleep.
His stuffed dog rolled partly from his arms.
The ribbon slipped sideways.
Dominic reached to catch it before it hit the floor.
His fingers brushed the toy’s belly.
He paused.
Then pressed again.
A strange stiffness beneath the fabric.
Dominic looked at me.
I frowned.
“What?”
He turned the stuffed dog over.
There was a seam along its stomach.
Old stitching.
Different thread.
I had seen it a thousand times without noticing.
Dominic reached for a small letter opener on the table.
I immediately grabbed the toy.
“No. Marcus sleeps with this every night.”
Dominic stopped.
He typed.
Something is inside.
I looked down.
The dog had belonged to Evan.
He had given it to me two weeks before he vanished.
I remembered the night clearly.
Keep this for the baby, he’d said.
I had been seven months pregnant.
I had assumed it was the closest thing to responsibility Evan was capable of.
Now my fingers found the hard shape beneath the stuffing.
A rectangle.
Small.
Thin.
Hidden.
My heart began pounding.
Dominic handed me the letter opener.
This time, I took it.
Carefully, I cut three stitches.
Reached inside.
And pulled out a tiny black memory card wrapped in plastic.
Dominic stared at it.
Victor’s warning echoed in my head.
Some doors improve your life by remaining closed.
Dominic took the card.
His eyes met mine.
Then he typed one sentence.
“If Victor knows this exists, your son is in danger.”
And suddenly my worst fear was no longer losing my job.
May you like
It was understanding why Marcus’s father had hidden evidence inside a child’s toy before disappearing.
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