Chapter 8 - A Prison With No Locked Doors
Dominic did not raise his voice when he learned Vincent had betrayed him.
He became quieter.
That was worse.
Vincent Russo had worked for the Vale family for fourteen years.
He had driven Nicholas home from court hearings.
He had attended Dominic’s father’s funeral.
He had once taken a knife meant for Dominic outside a restaurant in New York.
Trust like that wasn’t merely professional.
It was history.
Marco stared at the photograph.
“This could be manipulated.”
Dominic nodded.
“It could.”
“You’ve known Vincent since we were kids.”
“Yes.”
“Then we verify before we accuse him.”
Dominic looked at Marco.
“That is exactly what we do.”
I watched them carefully.
In Caleb’s world, suspicion seemed to become permission.
In Dominic’s, suspicion required proof.
That difference mattered.
“Can you track Vincent?” I asked.
Marco made a call.
Seconds later he frowned.
“Phone off.”
“Vehicle?”
“Company car parked beneath the club.”
Dominic looked toward the city.
“He planned ahead.”
My phone rang.
Chloe.
Everyone turned.
I answered immediately.
“Chloe?”
Her breathing was frantic.
“Harper.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Is Ethan safe?”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
My anger toward her became temporarily irrelevant.
“What does Caleb want?”
“He wants the drive.”
“The one from the mirror?”
Silence.
“You knew.”
“I found it two weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you give it to him?”
“Because I opened it.”
Dominic moved closer.
“What’s on it?” I asked.
“Everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“Accounts. Payments. Audio. Names. Nicholas Vale’s investigation.”
Dominic’s face changed.
Chloe whispered, “Nicholas knew who was running the laundering operation.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t see the whole file.”
“You said you opened it.”
“It has two encryption layers. I got through the first.”
“What did you see?”
She took a breath.
“A company called Northstar.”
Dominic turned toward Marco.
Marco went pale.
“What?” I whispered.
Dominic answered.
“Northstar Security was created by my father.”
“To protect Vale properties,” Marco added.
“Who controls it now?”
Dominic’s eyes were cold.
“Vincent.”
Chloe continued.
“Harper, listen. Caleb isn’t the person in charge.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
There was always another layer.
“Then who is?”
“I don’t know. But Caleb is terrified of Vincent.”
Dominic leaned toward the phone.
“Chloe.”
She gasped.
“Dominic?”
“Where is Ethan?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are you?”
“Dominic, if Vincent realizes I called—”
“He already assumes you will.”
Silence.
Dominic spoke calmly.
“The only question is whether you want him deciding what happens next.”
Chloe began crying.
Then she gave us an address.
An abandoned printing warehouse near the river.
Marco immediately moved.
Dominic stopped him.
“Small team.”
Marco nodded.
I stood.
“I’m coming.”
Three men said “No” simultaneously.
I stared.
Evelyn appeared from the hallway.
“Four.”
I glared at all of them.
“Chloe trusts me.”
“Chloe helped frame you,” Marco said.
“And now she’s trying to fix it.”
Dominic shook his head.
“You’re staying.”
My anger flared.
“You told me you wouldn’t make my choices.”
“I said I wouldn’t make your legal choices.”
“That’s convenient.”
“It’s also the difference between me sleeping tonight and spending six hours wondering whether someone put a bullet through—”
He stopped.
The room became silent.
My pulse changed.
Dominic looked away.
That was the first moment I understood his concern had become personal.
Maybe it had been personal sooner than either of us wanted to admit.
I lowered my voice.
“Chloe might only speak to me.”
Dominic looked back.
I stepped closer.
“I spent three years letting Caleb decide what I needed to know. I’m done sitting in rooms waiting for men to return with pieces of my life.”
Something in his face softened.
“Fine.”
Marco protested.
Dominic lifted one hand.
“She stays beside me.”
“That doesn’t make this a good idea.”
“No,” Dominic replied. “It makes it her idea.”
Thirty minutes later, we reached the warehouse.
No dramatic convoy.
Two ordinary SUVs.
Six people.
The river wind cut through my coat.
Inside, the building smelled like dust and old paper.
“Chloe?” I called.
Nothing.
Then movement above.
A figure appeared on a metal stairway.
Chloe.
Her face was pale.
Her mascara had run.
She held the silver drive.
I took a step.
Dominic stopped me gently.
“Wait.”
Chloe looked behind us.
“You came.”
“Where’s Ethan?”
“They moved him.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
Dominic scanned the warehouse.
“Who?”
Chloe looked toward him.
“Vincent.”
The name echoed through the building.
Then lights snapped on above us.
Marco swore.
A speaker crackled.
Vincent’s voice filled the warehouse.
“Dominic.”
Dominic’s expression became stone.
“You always did bring too few men when loyalty was involved.”
Chloe rushed down the stairs.
She handed me the drive.
“Take it.”
A door slammed somewhere.
Marco moved toward cover.
Dominic didn’t.
He stared into the darkness.
“Show yourself.”
Vincent laughed through the speakers.
“You still think this is about money.”
“What is it about?”
“Nicholas.”
Dominic became completely still.
Vincent continued.
“Your brother found something he wasn’t supposed to find.”
Dominic’s voice was almost inaudible.
“You framed him.”
“No.”
A pause.
“I protected the family from him.”
The words hit Dominic visibly.
Then the warehouse alarms began screaming.
Red emergency lights flashed.
Chloe grabbed my arm.
“He’s locking the exits.”
Marco shouted.
“Move!”
Dominic caught my hand.
We ran.
And as metal security doors began dropping around the warehouse, Vincent’s final sentence followed us through the darkness.
“Ask Harper who Caleb was really supposed to marry.”
I stumbled.
Dominic looked at me.
“What does that mean?”
I had no idea.
Until Chloe whispered behind us:
May you like
“Me.”
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