Chapter 7 - Someone Wanted the Marriage to Fail
Cassidy stared at Dominic.
“Who called you?”
“Jerry.”
For several seconds, the answer made no sense.
Then it made too much sense.
“Jerry knows you?”
“He knew my mother.”
Cassidy laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because she was tired of discovering doors inside rooms she thought she understood.
“Of course he did.”
“Cassidy—”
“I've worked for Jerry five years.”
“I know.”
“He never mentioned your family.”
“He had no reason to.”
“He called you the night I happened to need a husband.”
“He didn't know that.”
“Then why?”
Dominic pushed the black file toward her.
“Open it.”
Cassidy did.
The first document was decades old.
A photograph showed Evelyn Vale standing in front of the Bluebird Diner.
Jerry beside her.
Much younger.
A third man Cassidy did not recognize.
“Who is that?”
“My father.”
Cassidy looked closer.
“Your family owned the Bluebird?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Dominic sat.
“My father wanted the entire block.”
“When?”
“Twenty-two years ago.”
“For development?”
“Yes.”
“Jerry refused?”
“Yes.”
“Why was your mother involved?”
“She secretly financed Jerry's purchase of the building.”
Cassidy looked up.
“Against your father?”
“Yes.”
That sounded like the Evelyn she was beginning to imagine.
Dominic continued.
“My mother believed certain places mattered because ordinary people needed them.”
Cassidy looked toward the old photograph.
“Jerry never told me.”
“He promised her he wouldn't.”
“Why call you now?”
Dominic slid another paper across.
“The Bluebird's mortgage was transferred three weeks ago.”
Cassidy read the company name.
Halden Urban Partners.
Never heard of it.
Dominic pointed.
“Richard controls Halden through intermediaries.”
Cassidy's stomach tightened.
“He wants the diner?”
“He wants the block.”
“Why?”
“Franklin Street.”
She remembered.
The archive.
“What does the Bluebird have to do with that?”
“The properties are adjacent underground.”
Cassidy blinked.
“Underground?”
“Old service tunnels. Utility passages. Most are sealed.”
“You're telling me there's some secret tunnel from the diner to your family archive?”
“No.”
“That is exactly what it sounds like.”
“The archive entrance is in another building. But the Bluebird sits over part of the old corridor.”
Cassidy closed her eyes.
“This is absurd.”
“Yes.”
“Is that why Jerry called?”
“He received a foreclosure notice.”
“Foreclosure?”
“He's never said anything.”
“He didn't want you worried.”
Cassidy stood.
“I need to see him.”
“It is almost midnight.”
“He'll be awake.”
“How do you know?”
“He owns a diner.”
Twenty-five minutes later they entered the Bluebird through the kitchen.
Jerry stood near the grill.
He looked at Cassidy.
Then Dominic.
Then the folder.
“Damn.”
Cassidy put both hands on the counter.
“You knew.”
Jerry sighed.
“I knew some.”
“You knew Dominic.”
“Since he was a kid.”
Dominic looked uncomfortable.
Cassidy stared at Jerry.
“You called him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was about to lose this place.”
“Why didn't you call me?”
Jerry laughed bitterly.
“What were you going to do, kid? You had thirty-seven dollars.”
Cassidy froze.
“How do you know that?”
Jerry's expression softened.
“You've been stretching groceries for months. I'm old, not blind.”
Cassidy looked away.
Jerry poured three coffees.
Nobody wanted them.
He told the story.
Evelyn Vale had come into the Bluebird twenty-three years earlier after arguing with her husband.
She liked the coffee despite Dominic's opinion.
She became friends with Jerry.
When the Vale development company attempted to purchase the block, Evelyn quietly helped Jerry retain the property.
Years later, after her husband's death, she used several surrounding properties to create low-income housing and legal-services offices.
Richard hated those holdings because they produced little profit.
After Evelyn died, the trust protected them.
Until now.
Jerry rubbed his face.
“I got the notice three weeks ago. Called Dominic because Evelyn told me if the family ever came after the block, he would understand why.”
Cassidy turned toward Dominic.
“And that's why you were here.”
“Yes.”
“You were waiting for Jerry.”
“Yes.”
Jerry nodded.
“He was late.”
Dominic corrected him.
“You were late.”
“I was busy.”
“You own a twenty-four-hour diner.”
“Exactly.”
Cassidy stared at both men.
“So while I was falling apart behind the pie case—”
Dominic said quietly, “I was waiting to discuss the mortgage.”
“And then you heard me.”
“Yes.”
“And decided I solved your trust problem.”
Dominic didn't look away.
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than an excuse.
Cassidy wrapped her hands around the coffee mug.
Jerry watched her carefully.
“Cass.”
“What?”
“You don't owe him anything.”
Dominic said nothing.
Jerry continued.
“Evelyn would've hated anybody thinking her ring bought somebody.”
Cassidy looked at Dominic.
His jaw tightened.
“That's not what happened.”
“Then make sure it doesn't become that.”
Jerry walked into the kitchen.
Cassidy and Dominic stood alone.
“I need air,” she said.
Outside, the rain had stopped.
Chicago smelled wet and metallic.
Trains thundered overhead.
Cassidy leaned against the diner wall.
Dominic joined her but kept distance.
“You can leave,” he said.
“Which part?”
“The marriage.”
“The contract says six months.”
“I'll waive it.”
“You'll lose the trust.”
“Yes.”
“And the buildings?”
“Probably.”
“The shelters?”
“Yes.”
“The archive?”
“Yes.”
She turned.
“You'd let that happen?”
“If staying means you feel trapped.”
Cassidy stared at him.
The city roared around them.
For the first time she saw the shape of his dilemma.
Dominic could force nothing.
That was precisely why the arrangement frightened him too.
“What would your mother want?” Cassidy asked.
He looked away.
“She'd tell me I was an idiot.”
Cassidy almost smiled.
“For marrying me?”
“For thinking marriage was a legal instrument.”
“And then?”
“She'd probably invite you to breakfast and interrogate you.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It was.”
Cassidy looked at the ring.
“I don't want to leave.”
Dominic's gaze returned to her.
“But I don't want surprises.”
“You'll have everything.”
“All of it.”
“Yes.”
“And Richard stays away from Emily.”
“I'll make sure of it.”
Cassidy frowned.
“No threats.”
“I wasn't planning threats.”
“What were you planning?”
“Lawyers.”
“Fine.”
They went back inside.
Jerry stood behind the counter.
“You two finished divorcing?”
“We weren't divorcing,” Cassidy said.
“Disappointing. I had pie.”
Dominic sat in his old booth.
Cassidy returned behind the counter almost instinctively.
Jerry watched them.
“You know what this looks like?”
“No,” Cassidy said.
“A terrible romantic comedy.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Please never say that again.”
Jerry laughed.
For the first time in days, Cassidy relaxed.
Then the front door opened.
A woman entered carrying a tablet and wearing an expensive gray suit.
She walked directly toward Dominic.
“Mara sent me.”
Dominic stood.
“What happened?”
The woman turned the tablet.
A video was playing.
Cassidy recognized herself immediately.
The Bluebird employee alcove.
Her voice.
Recorded secretly.
I need a house, a babysitter, five thousand dollars, a better job and a husband by tomorrow morning.
Then Dominic's voice.
You need a husband.
The clip ended.
Cassidy felt sick.
“Where did that come from?”
The woman answered.
“It was sent anonymously to three media outlets.”
Dominic looked toward the diner ceiling.
Security cameras.
Jerry's face went pale.
“Those cameras don't record audio.”
“Apparently another device did.”
Cassidy whispered, “Somebody recorded us.”
The woman nodded.
“And the full clip hasn't been released yet.”
“Full?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Cassidy.
“The sender says they have the conversation where Dominic offers the marriage arrangement.”
Cassidy's knees weakened.
Her guardianship hearing.
The judge.
Thirty-day trial placement.
If somebody framed the marriage as a scheme—
Dominic understood before she said it.
“This isn't about embarrassing me.”
“No,” Cassidy whispered.
“They're trying to make the court think I used you to get Emily.”
Dominic's face turned cold.
Someone did not merely want his trust.
They wanted Cassidy out of the marriage.
May you like
And they had just discovered exactly where to hurt her.
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