Chapter 3 - The Family TableDominic spent the night turning the estate into a fortress.
He looked furious.
Not at her.
At himself.
“Mrs. Vale, where were you?”
Evelyn kept walking.
“The forty-second floor.”
Marco went pale.
“Who let you up?”
“I own part of the hotel, Marco.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
She stopped.
Marco had protected her since the wedding. He was fifty-two, broad-shouldered, perpetually serious, and one of the few people in Dominic’s organization Evelyn trusted.
Today he looked shaken.
“Why wasn’t security upstairs?” she asked.
Marco opened the rear door.
“We need to leave.”
“No.”
“Mrs. Vale—”
“Someone just mentioned my pregnancy before I told my husband I’m pregnant.”
Marco’s eyes changed.
That was confirmation enough.
“You knew.”
“I knew there was a possibility.”
“How?”
“This isn’t the place.”
Apparently no place was ever the place.
Evelyn climbed into the SUV.
Marco sat across from her while another guard drove.
“Take me home.”
Marco looked toward the driver.
“Not the penthouse.”
Evelyn’s voice sharpened.
“What?”
“Dominic ordered us to take you to Westchester.”
“The estate?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Mrs. Vale—”
“I am not being shipped out of Manhattan because my husband got caught with another woman.”
Marco stared at her.
“Another woman?”
“Camille.”
Understanding passed over his face.
Then relief.
That made Evelyn even angrier.
“You know her too?”
“She isn’t Dominic’s mistress.”
Evelyn laughed bitterly.
“She walked out wearing his shirt.”
“I know what it looked like.”
“Apparently everyone does.”
Marco hesitated.
“I cannot explain Camille without authorization.”
“Authorization?”
“My marriage is not a military operation.”
“No,” Marco said quietly. “At the moment, it’s closer to a war.”
Silence filled the car.
Evelyn looked out the tinted window.
Manhattan passed in expensive fragments—glass towers, pedestrians, delivery trucks, a woman pushing a stroller.
The stroller hurt.
She placed her hand over her stomach.
Six weeks.
Barely anything to see.
Yet already she had imagined Dominic carrying their baby through their apartment.
She hated herself for still wanting that image.
“Who were those men?”
“Which men?”
“The ones Dominic said came from his uncle.”
Marco’s expression hardened.
“Did they speak to you?”
“One of them knew.”
“Knew what?”
“The pregnancy.”
Marco immediately pulled out his phone.
“Tell me exactly what he said.”
Evelyn repeated it.
Marco swore under his breath and called someone.
“Lock the Westchester property down. Nobody enters without my approval.”
Pause.
“Yes, now.”
He disconnected.
Evelyn stared at him.
“Why does my pregnancy matter to Dominic’s uncle?”
Marco looked tired suddenly.
“Because Dominic is not the only man with a claim to the Vale organization.”
“I know about Adrian.”
Everyone knew about Adrian Vale.
Dominic’s uncle had spent twenty years serving as adviser to Dominic’s father. When Dominic inherited leadership after his father’s death, Adrian became the gracious elder statesman of the family.
He brought Evelyn flowers on Christmas.
He called her bella ragazza even though she had repeatedly reminded him she was thirty-two.
Marco leaned forward.
“Dominic doesn’t have children.”
“So?”
“Neither does Adrian.”
Evelyn waited.
Marco continued.
“For years, certain people assumed Adrian would become the next head of the family if anything happened to Dominic.”
“And a baby changes that?”
“A son would.”
Evelyn’s blood chilled.
“And if it’s a girl?”
Marco looked away.
“Traditional men find ways to make tradition convenient.”
The SUV exited Manhattan.
Evelyn suddenly remembered Adrian touching her shoulder at dinner three weeks earlier.
You’re glowing, Evelyn.
She had laughed.
Had he already suspected?
“How could anyone know?”
Marco shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“My doctor?”
“We’ll check.”
She glared at him.
“You’re going to ‘check’ my obstetrician?”
“Discreetly.”
“This is insane.”
“Yes.”
At least he didn’t deny it.
The Westchester estate sat behind limestone walls and iron gates on twenty wooded acres.
Dominic had bought it after their wedding.
Evelyn loved the gardens but hated the security cameras.
Today, armed guards stood at both gates.
Inside, Marco ordered windows locked and phones screened.
Evelyn went upstairs and stared at the cream gift box.
Then she opened it.
The little shoes were absurdly small.
She cried for the first time.
Not dramatic sobbing.
Quiet tears.
She was still sitting there when Dominic arrived three hours later.
He entered without knocking.
Evelyn stood.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
His normally perfect appearance was gone.
His shirt was wrinkled.
There was blood on one cuff.
Evelyn stared at it.
“Is that yours?”
“No.”
The answer came too easily.
“Of course not.”
“Evelyn.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No.”
“Then why was she wearing your shirt?”
Dominic closed the door.
“Because hers had blood on it.”
Evelyn’s anger faltered.
“What?”
“Camille was attacked.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Who is she?”
Dominic exhaled.
“My half sister.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“You don’t have a sister.”
“I wasn’t supposed to.”
She almost thought he was joking.
Dominic never joked about family.
“My father had an affair twenty-seven years ago,” he continued. “Camille was the result. Adrian discovered her existence six months ago.”
“And you knew?”
“For four months.”
“You hid your sister from me for four months?”
“I hid her from everyone.”
“Why?”
“Because someone has been killing people connected to my father’s old secrets.”
Evelyn slowly sat.
Dominic remained standing.
“The accountant who handled my father’s private accounts died in January. His former driver died in March. A lawyer who prepared sealed documents disappeared six weeks ago.”
“And Camille?”
“Someone tried to grab her this morning.”
Evelyn’s anger collided with fear.
“She came to you.”
“Yes.”
“Why was she in your suite?”
“It’s one of the few places with a secure service elevator. Her clothes were torn and covered in blood from the guard who protected her.”
Evelyn looked at Dominic’s shirt.
Suddenly the scene looked different.
Not innocent.
But different.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“You let me think you were cheating.”
“I couldn’t explain in that hallway.”
“You could have said ‘she’s my sister.’”
Dominic’s silence answered.
Evelyn understood.
“You don’t trust me.”
His face tightened.
“I don’t trust anyone around you.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It is when keeping you alive is the priority.”
She stood.
“No, Dominic. That is the excuse you use whenever you want control.”
He took the words without defending himself.
Then his gaze fell to the cream box.
The lid had shifted.
One tiny baby shoe was visible.
Dominic stopped breathing.
He looked at Evelyn.
Then the shoe.
Then back at her.
“Evelyn…”
She swallowed.
“Yes.”
He crossed the room slowly.
“How long?”
“Six weeks.”
His expression broke.
For one moment he wasn’t Dominic Vale.
He was simply a husband hearing that he was going to become a father.
His eyes became wet.
He lowered himself to his knees in front of her and rested his forehead against her stomach.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
She wanted to hate him.
Instead she placed a trembling hand in his hair.
“We made a baby,” he whispered.
“Yes.”
Then Dominic looked up.
The tenderness disappeared.
Fear replaced it.
“Who else knows?”
“My doctor.”
“Nobody else?”
“No.”
He stood immediately and pulled out his phone.
“Marco.”
Evelyn grabbed his wrist.
“Dominic.”
He looked at her.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He went still.
She saw it.
A secret bigger than Camille.
A secret bigger than Adrian.
“Tell me.”
Dominic’s voice was barely audible.
“Someone has been tracking your medical appointments for two months.”
Evelyn felt cold.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought they were watching you to get to me.”
“And now?”
May you like
Dominic looked toward her stomach.
“Now I think they were waiting to see whether you were carrying my heir.”
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