Chapter 7 - THE GROOM WITH TWO FACES|
I remembered Adrian's expression when the first gunshot rang out.
He hadn't looked surprised.
Frightened, yes.
But not surprised.
There was a difference.
At the wedding, I'd watched him grab Isabella's arm and pull her behind the cake table.
I'd believed he was saving her life.
Now I wondered whether he'd been making certain she stayed exactly where the gunman expected her to be.
Dominic stared at the recording.
“Find Adrian.”
Marco was already calling the security team.
“He left the hotel thirty minutes ago.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Where is his car?”
“We're tracking it.”
Dominic turned toward the window.
The city glowed beyond the mansion grounds.
Somewhere in that city, Isabella's new husband was helping the woman who had allegedly murdered her mother.
“Bring him in alive,” Dominic said.
Marco nodded.
“And notify the detective supervising the kidnapping case.”
“I want this documented.”
I looked at my husband.
In the stories people told about Dominic Coretti, he was a man who solved problems with fear.
But tonight, he was giving instructions to preserve evidence and bring criminals before the law.
Perhaps he understood what I was only beginning to see.
Killing the people responsible wouldn't bring his parents back.
And it wouldn't give Isabella the chance to tell her own story.
I approached the desk.
“We need to understand why Adrian married her.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Money.”
“Maybe.”
“His family has been in financial trouble for years.”
I shook my head.
“Then why would Beatrice arrange a shooting at his own wedding?”
“To create confusion.”
“But the gunman aimed at Isabella.”
Dominic frowned.
I continued.
“If Adrian was part of the plan, why risk killing the person he married for money?”
Marco lowered his phone.
“Unless she wasn't supposed to die.”
The room went still.
I nodded.
“Exactly.”
Dominic looked toward the wedding photograph on his desk.
“Beatrice wanted Isabella frightened.”
“And isolated,” I added.
“She wanted everyone to believe there was an outside threat.”
“Dante Moretti,” Marco said.
The pieces began falling into place.
The rival's name.
The gunman's meeting with Dante.
The staged arrival of security.
The attack that apparently targeted Isabella.
“What if Beatrice wanted Dominic to blame Dante?” I asked.
Dominic's expression darkened.
“A war.”
Marco nodded.
“She could push us into retaliating.”
“And while we're distracted, move against the family's assets.”
Dominic looked toward the window again.
“Or take control entirely.”
I felt cold.
“Would the family follow her?”
“Not openly,” he replied.
“But if something happened to me, Isabella would inherit part of my father's estate.”
“And Adrian would have influence through her.”
The truth felt horrifyingly simple.
Beatrice wasn't merely trying to keep old evidence buried.
She was trying to rebuild the family's power around herself.
And she'd used a wedding to begin.
My father was still sitting near the fireplace.
I turned toward him.
“Did Beatrice mention Adrian?”
He nodded reluctantly.
“She said he was a good investment.”
Dominic's gaze hardened.
“What else?”
“She asked whether Clara had access to your estate papers.”
“Why?”
“She wanted to know whether the marriage agreement could be challenged.”
I felt a fresh wave of humiliation.
My marriage.
Isabella's marriage.
Both women had been turned into pieces on Beatrice's board.
“Dominic,” I said.
“We have to get Isabella out before Beatrice convinces her nobody is coming.”
He nodded.
“We will.”
Then he took something from his jacket.
A small black device.
He placed it on the desk.
“What is that?” I asked.
“A transmitter.”
Marco examined it.
“Short-range emergency beacon.”
Dominic looked at me.
“If you're going to Bellhaven, this stays with you.”
I stared at him.
“You're allowing me to go?”
His jaw tightened.
“I'm not allowing anything.”
“It's your decision.”
The words startled me.
He continued.
“But I won't pretend I can keep you safe by locking you away.”
I looked at his face.
Something had changed between us.
Not enough to erase six months.
Not enough to mend every misunderstanding.
But enough for him to understand I wasn't another possession he needed to guard.
I was a person standing beside him.
“I want a plan,” I said.
“You'll have one.”
“Not one where I walk into a house and hope everyone else saves me.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“Agreed.”
Marco spread another map over the first.
We began discussing the security system.
Mrs. Alvarez explained the old greenhouse entrance.
My father described the maintenance road he'd used earlier that week.
And I asked questions until I understood every possible exit.
At 11:17 p.m., Marco's phone rang.
He listened.
Then his expression changed.
“We found Adrian.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“Where?”
“Outside a private hangar in Teterboro.”
“Arrested?”
“Not yet.”
Marco's voice grew sharper.
“He's meeting a woman.”
“Who?”
Marco turned the phone so we could see a live security image.
A black SUV stood beneath the hangar lights.
Adrian was beside it.
Facing him was a tall woman wearing a dark coat.
Her hair was pulled beneath a silk scarf.
She looked familiar.
Painfully familiar.
I leaned closer.
Then the woman turned.
I covered my mouth.
“No.”
Dominic stared at the screen.
“Clara?”
I couldn't breathe.
Because the woman standing beside Adrian wasn't Beatrice.
It was my mother.
Evelyn Bennett.
The mother who had abandoned my brother and me when I was twelve years old.
The woman I'd spent sixteen years trying not to miss.
She was alive.
She was in New York.
And she was meeting the man who had helped kidnap Isabella.
I stumbled backward.
Dominic caught my elbow.
“Clara.”
I pulled away from the screen.
“That's impossible.”
My voice sounded distant.
“She's supposed to be in California.”
My father covered his face.
I turned toward him.
“You knew.”
He didn't answer.
“Dad, look at me.”
His shoulders shook.
“You knew she was here.”
“I only found out last month.”
I stared at him.
“You told me she didn't want contact.”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
The anger that rose inside me was almost unbearable.
“Stop saying that.”
He looked up.
I could barely see him through my tears.
“Every time you lie, you call it protection.”
“Every time you hurt me, you say you were afraid.”
“And every time I believe you, something terrible happens.”
He began crying harder.
But for once, I couldn't comfort him.
Marco's phone buzzed again.
“Boss, Adrian just handed Evelyn a folder.”
“Can your team recover it?”
“They're moving.”
Dominic turned toward me.
“Clara, I need you to stay focused.”
I wiped my face.
“I'm trying.”
He placed both hands gently on my shoulders.
“Whatever your mother is doing, we'll find out.”
I looked at him.
“Do you think she's working with Beatrice?”
“I don't know.”
The answer was painful.
But it was honest.
And after everything that had happened, honesty felt more valuable than reassurance.
We watched the screen.
Adrian glanced toward the hangar entrance.
Evelyn appeared to be arguing with him.
She pointed toward the folder.
He shook his head.
Then he grabbed her wrist.
My stomach tightened.
“Dominic.”
“I see it.”
Evelyn pulled away.
Adrian stepped closer.
Suddenly, the screen filled with movement.
Two officers approached from behind the SUV.
Adrian turned.
He reached inside his coat.
“GET DOWN!” someone shouted through the live audio.
The image shook.
A gunshot cracked.
I screamed.
When the camera steadied, Adrian was lying on the pavement.
An officer had pinned his arms behind his back.
Evelyn stood against the SUV, shaking.
She was unharmed.
Marco exhaled.
“They have him.”
Dominic turned away from the screen.
“Good.”
But the relief lasted only seconds.
One of the officers lifted the folder Adrian had been carrying.
He opened it.
Then his voice came through the speaker.
“Mr. Coretti, we found something you need to see.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“What?”
“An insurance document.”
“Whose?”
The officer hesitated.
“Your wife's.”
My blood went cold.
He continued.
“Five million dollars.”
“Effective six months ago.”
“And the sole beneficiary is listed as Thomas Bennett.”
I turned toward my father.
He stared at the floor.
Dominic's face became terrifyingly calm.
“Thomas.”
My father began shaking.
“I didn't know.”
Dominic took one step forward.
“Tell me why there's a five-million-dollar policy on my wife's life.”
My father opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
I looked at him and understood something I'd never wanted to believe.
My father's debts had never been the greatest danger to me.
My father's willingness to lie was.
And Beatrice had known exactly how to use it.
Then Marco received another message.
He read it and froze.
“Boss.”
Dominic turned.
“What now?”
“The policy was issued through a company controlled by Adrian Bell.”
He swallowed.
“And someone submitted a claim inquiry this afternoon.”
I felt my blood run cold.
Because I was supposed to be at Isabella's wedding this afternoon.
May you like
And a man with a gun had been waiting near the service corridor.
The same corridor where Aunt Beatrice had ordered me to stand.
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