Chapter 2 - The Secret Hidden Behind the Wedding
Dominic read the message twice.
Then his entire demeanor changed.
The elegant wedding guest disappeared.
The man who had survived twenty years in a world built on betrayal took his place.
“Vincent.”
He didn’t raise his voice.
He didn’t need to.
Vincent appeared from the edge of the ballroom almost immediately.
Dominic handed him the phone.
Vincent studied the photograph.
“When?”
“Just now.”
Vincent’s eyes swept the room.
“I’ll lock down the exits.”
“No.”
Genevieve grabbed his arm.
Both men looked at her.
“If whoever sent this is inside, locking the doors tells them we know.”
Dominic studied her.
She was right.
He hated that she was right.
“What was in the envelope?”
Genevieve hesitated.
“Records.”
“What records?”
“Mine.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“They were documents I recovered after prison.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“You told me you had nothing.”
“I told you I couldn't prove Richard framed me.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
“Where did you get them?”
Genevieve glanced toward Richard.
“He made one mistake.”
Three weeks after her release, Genevieve had returned to a storage facility in Queens.
The unit belonged to her former assistant, Natalie Brooks.
Natalie had disappeared before Genevieve’s trial.
The prosecution claimed she had moved overseas.
Genevieve never believed it.
Natalie had been twenty-six.
Smart.
Loyal.
Terrified during the final weeks of the investigation.
She had once called Genevieve at midnight and said, “If something happens to me, don't believe what they say.”
Then she vanished.
After prison, Genevieve discovered Natalie had prepaid the storage unit for five years.
Inside were boxes of personal belongings.
And a flash drive.
Most files were corrupted.
But several spreadsheets survived.
They showed payments Genevieve had never authorized.
Shell companies.
Political consulting firms.
Offshore trusts.
And recurring transfers to an account identified only by three letters.
R.S.F.
Dominic listened without interrupting.
“You kept this from me?”
“I met you six days ago.”
“You walked into a room full of federal prosecutors carrying evidence that could destroy Richard Sterling?”
“No.”
Dominic frowned.
“The drive isn’t here.”
“Where is it?”
Genevieve looked at him.
“That’s the problem.”
Across the ballroom, Richard was speaking urgently to Senator Charles Hastings.
Hastings glanced toward Genevieve.
Then quickly away.
She felt the pieces moving.
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“Look at Hastings.”
Dominic did.
The senator excused himself from Richard and headed toward a side corridor.
Vincent shifted.
“I’ll follow him.”
Genevieve stopped him.
“No. I will.”
Dominic gave her a look that almost made her laugh.
“You’re not going anywhere alone.”
“Then come with me.”
They moved through the ballroom.
Behind them, Leo and Beatrice were arguing quietly.
Their wedding had transformed into something else.
Nobody danced.
Nobody ate.
Every guest pretended not to watch the Costellos and Sterlings unravel.
Genevieve and Dominic entered the corridor.
Hastings had disappeared.
At the end stood a door leading toward the château’s library.
Dominic opened it.
Empty.
Books lined the walls.
A fire burned beneath a marble mantel.
Genevieve stepped inside.
“Senator?”
Nothing.
Dominic closed the door.
“You know what bothers me?”
“Everything?”
“The message told you not to leave with me.”
Genevieve considered it.
“So?”
“So whoever sent it doesn't just want to scare you.”
He approached.
“They want to separate you from me.”
Genevieve looked at him.
“Perhaps they think you’re dangerous.”
“I am.”
“Maybe they’re trying to help.”
“People who break into apartments don't usually help.”
“People in your profession might disagree.”
Dominic almost smiled.
Then a sound came from behind them.
Click.
Genevieve turned.
Senator Hastings stood near a second doorway.
He looked terrified.
“Ms. Croft.”
“Senator.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I've heard that several times tonight.”
Hastings glanced at Dominic.
“I need to speak with her privately.”
“No,” Dominic said.
Hastings swallowed.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain it.”
The senator looked toward the door.
“Richard knows.”
Genevieve’s pulse quickened.
“Knows what?”
“That Natalie kept copies.”
Genevieve froze.
“How do you know about Natalie?”
Hastings closed his eyes.
“Because I helped Richard.”
Silence.
Dominic moved first.
He crossed the room so quickly Hastings barely reacted before finding himself against the wall.
Genevieve grabbed Dominic’s wrist.
“Don't.”
Dominic stared at Hastings.
“What did you do?”
“Not what you think.”
“Then talk.”
Hastings looked at Genevieve.
“The eighty million wasn't embezzlement.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“Not in the way prosecutors believed.”
“Richard stole it.”
“No.”
Hastings shook his head.
“He moved it.”
“Where?”
“Into political operations. Judges. Officials. Regulators. Contracts.”
Genevieve stared.
A bribery network.
The realization was enormous.
The eighty million had not disappeared because Richard Sterling was simply covering gambling debts.
It had purchased influence.
Her conviction had hidden something much larger.
“Judge Sullivan,” Genevieve whispered.
Hastings nodded.
“He was paid.”
Dominic released him.
Genevieve felt suddenly unsteady.
For two years she had told herself the judge had been biased.
Connected.
Friendly with Richard.
But paid?
Her prison sentence had been purchased.
“How much?”
“Two million.”
Genevieve turned away.
For the first time that evening, the controlled mask cracked.
Dominic saw her hand trembling.
He stepped toward her.
She raised one hand.
“Don't.”
Not because she feared him.
Because if he touched her gently, she might fall apart.
Hastings continued.
“Richard kept records.”
“Why?”
“Insurance. Everyone involved could destroy everyone else.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Genevieve turned.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I know someone who might.”
“Natalie?”
Hastings went pale.
That answered the question.
Genevieve approached him.
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Is she alive?”
“I don't know.”
She grabbed his lapels.
“Is Natalie alive?”
“I think so!”
The words echoed through the library.
Genevieve released him.
For three years she had believed Natalie was probably dead.
Now suddenly there was a possibility.
“Why would Richard keep her alive?”
“Because Natalie copied something she wasn't supposed to see.”
“What?”
Hastings shook his head.
“I never knew.”
Dominic said, “Who sent Genevieve the message?”
“I don't know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I swear.”
Dominic stared at him long enough to make the senator look away.
Then footsteps approached.
The door opened.
Beatrice stood there.
She had been crying.
“Dad’s looking for you,” she told Hastings.
Nobody spoke.
Beatrice looked at Genevieve.
“Can I talk to you?”
Dominic said, “Whatever you have to say, say it here.”
Beatrice looked at him.
“It’s about Leo.”
Dominic hesitated.
Genevieve said, “Give us five minutes.”
“I’ll be outside.”
When Dominic and Hastings left, Beatrice closed the door.
For several seconds, the two women simply stared at each other.
The bride and the woman her father had destroyed.
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice whispered.
Genevieve felt no satisfaction.
“For what?”
Beatrice wiped her face.
“I knew.”
The words landed harder than Genevieve expected.
“How much?”
“Not everything.”
“How much?”
“I knew my father wanted you blamed.”
Genevieve’s expression hardened.
“And you said nothing.”
“I was twenty-three.”
“So?”
“I was afraid of him.”
“I was twenty-eight when federal agents put handcuffs on me.”
Beatrice looked down.
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
“I tried to help.”
Genevieve laughed.
“From where? Your summer house?”
Beatrice flinched.
“I sent Natalie away.”
Genevieve stopped.
“What?”
“My father was looking for her.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know anymore.”
“You sent her away?”
“I gave her money and a passport.”
“When?”
“Two days before she disappeared.”
Genevieve stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because she came to me.”
Beatrice took a shaky breath.
“She had found something.”
“What?”
“I never saw it.”
Genevieve stepped closer.
“What did she tell you?”
Beatrice looked toward the door.
“She said my father wasn’t the person running everything.”
Genevieve’s blood chilled.
“What does that mean?”
“She said there was someone above him.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Beatrice.”
“I swear.”
Genevieve studied her.
Beatrice seemed genuinely terrified.
Then the bride reached beneath the neckline of her gown.
She pulled out a tiny brass key on a thin chain.
“I've worn this for three years.”
Genevieve stared.
“Natalie gave it to me.”
“What does it open?”
“I don't know.”
“Why didn't you give this to investigators?”
“My father controlled the investigation.”
Genevieve held out her hand.
Beatrice placed the key in her palm.
On one side was engraved a number.
317.
Genevieve looked up.
“Why give it to me now?”
“Because I saw you walk in.”
Beatrice’s voice broke.
“And I realized I might never get another chance.”
The door opened suddenly.
Leo stood there.
He had heard enough.
His face was devastated.
“You knew?”
Beatrice turned.
“Leo—”
“You knew Genevieve was innocent?”
“Not exactly.”
“But you knew something.”
“Yes.”
“And you married me without telling me?”
“I love you.”
Leo laughed bitterly.
“Apparently everyone loves me enough to lie to me.”
He walked away.
Beatrice followed.
Genevieve remained in the library, staring at the key.
Dominic stepped back inside.
“What happened?”
She showed him.
“317.”
Dominic examined it.
“Locker?”
“Safe-deposit box?”
“Hotel room?”
“Could be anything.”
Genevieve turned the key over.
There was something else.
Tiny letters etched beneath the number.
GCT.
She recognized them immediately.
Grand Central Terminal.
Dominic saw her expression.
“What?”
“Grand Central.”
“A locker?”
“Maybe.”
Her phone vibrated again.
Another unknown message.
This one contained no photograph.
Only an address.
And beneath it:
MIDNIGHT. COME ALONE IF YOU WANT TO SEE NATALIE ALIVE.
Dominic read over her shoulder.
“No.”
Genevieve looked at him.
“You don't decide.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
His eyes locked onto hers.
“Because whoever sent that message already got into your home.”
“And?”
“And I didn't bring you back into Richard Sterling’s world just to watch someone bury you again.”
Genevieve stared at him.
Something shifted between them.
Something neither had planned.
Then her phone vibrated one more time.
A final message appeared.
AND DO NOT TRUST DOMINIC COSTELLO. HE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED THREE YEARS AGO.
Genevieve slowly raised her eyes.
Dominic was watching her.
“What does it say?”
For the first time since meeting him, Genevieve lied.
May you like
“Nothing important.”
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