Chapter 4 - The Brother They Called a Traitor|
Emma wanted to believe Dominic had made a mistake.
That there were two men with similar faces.
That Nicholas Reed and Nicholas Salvatore were different people.
But the photograph in Dominic's trembling hand destroyed that possibility.
She had spent seven years wondering why the man she loved had abandoned her.
Now she was sitting beside one of Chicago's most feared crime bosses, hearing that Lily's father had belonged to his family.
"Why did he use a different last name?" she asked.
Dominic sat down again.
"Because he wanted to escape ours."
Emma looked toward the closed hospital-room door.
"And you let him?"
A painful smile crossed Dominic's face.
"I didn't have much choice."
He leaned back against the wall.
"Nico was never like the rest of us."
"Nico?"
"That's what I called him."
Emma remembered Nicholas laughing whenever she used his full name.
He had always preferred Nick.
Dominic continued.
"Our father raised us to believe loyalty was everything."
"He raised you to become criminals?"
"He raised us inside a world where people confused fear with respect."
Emma didn't interrupt.
"Nico hated it."
"Did he?"
"He wanted to study architecture."
Dominic looked down.
"He used to draw buildings that people could actually afford to live in."
Emma felt tears gathering again.
Nicholas had once spent an entire afternoon sketching a little blue house with a porch.
He said he wanted a home where nobody needed permission to feel safe.
She had kept that drawing for years.
"What happened to him?"
Dominic's expression hardened.
"Seven years ago, someone accused him of stealing money from our family's businesses."
"Did he?"
"I believed he had."
"Why?"
"My uncle showed me documents."
"What uncle?"
"Enzo Salvatore."
The name meant nothing to Emma.
But Dominic spoke it with obvious discomfort.
"Enzo helped raise us after our mother died."
"Was he close to Nicholas?"
"Not at the end."
Dominic explained that Nicholas had become increasingly secretive during the months before his disappearance.
He refused family meetings and argued with their father about money.
Then a warehouse connected to the family's business operations caught fire.
Several financial records were destroyed.
Enzo claimed Nicholas had stolen nearly two million dollars and fled.
A week later, the police recovered a burned vehicle near the Chicago River.
Nicholas's identification and one of his rings were found inside.
There was no confirmed identification of his body.
But Enzo insisted his nephew had died while escaping.
"Did you look for him?" Emma asked.
Dominic hesitated.
"Not hard enough."
The answer surprised her.
She had expected excuses.
Instead, he looked like a man struggling beneath the weight of his own failures.
"I was angry with him," Dominic admitted.
"I thought he'd betrayed our family."
"So you stopped looking?"
"Yes."
Emma stood.
"Do you know what I was doing while you were mourning a thief?"
Dominic didn't answer.
"I was giving birth alone."
Her voice cracked.
"I was holding a newborn baby who looked exactly like the man I thought had abandoned us."
She wiped her tears angrily.
"I worked with stitches that hadn't healed because I couldn't pay the rent."
"Emma—"
"I spent years believing I wasn't good enough for him to stay."
Dominic lowered his head.
"And my daughter spent six birthdays asking why her daddy never came home."
He accepted every word.
When Emma finally stopped, the silence between them was heavy.
Then he spoke.
"I can't give you those years back."
"No, you can't."
"But I can help you find the truth."
Emma looked at him.
"I don't want revenge."
"Neither do I."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You're a Mafia boss."
"I know exactly how that sounds."
"Then what do you want?"
Dominic glanced toward Lily's room.
"I want to know whether my brother died trying to protect someone."
Emma slowly sat down.
"Who?"
"Maybe you."
He paused.
"Maybe your daughter."
A nurse approached and explained that Lily was feeling well enough to have a visitor.
Emma entered first.
Her daughter was sitting upright in the hospital bed, holding a stuffed rabbit Mrs. Peterson had given her.
"Mommy!"
Emma wrapped her arms around her.
"How's my brave girl?"
"Better."
Lily looked over Emma's shoulder.
"Is the prince still here?"
Dominic stopped in the doorway.
Emma almost smiled through her tears.
"Yes, sweetheart."
Lily waved.
"Hello, Mr. Prince."
Dominic approached carefully.
"Hello, Miss Lily."
"Did you bring my mommy coffee?"
"No."
"You should."
Emma laughed unexpectedly.
Dominic looked confused.
Lily explained patiently.
"Mommy gets tired and then she forgets to eat."
The simple observation hurt more than Emma wanted to admit.
Dominic pulled a chair beside the bed.
"Then I'll remember."
Lily studied him.
"You have eyes like my picture."
Emma went still.
"What picture, honey?"
"The one of Daddy."
Dominic's expression changed.
Emma had shown Lily Nicholas's photograph only a few times.
She had told her that her father was someone she once loved, but that she didn't know where he had gone.
Lily reached for Emma's phone.
"Can I see it?"
Emma opened the photograph.
Her daughter studied it carefully.
Then she looked at Dominic.
"You look like him."
Dominic swallowed.
"That's because he was my brother."
Lily frowned.
"What's a brother?"
"Someone you grow up with."
"Did you love him?"
Dominic looked at Emma.
Then he answered honestly.
"Very much."
Lily considered this.
"Then maybe you can tell me stories about him someday."
Dominic's eyes filled.
"I would like that."
Later that afternoon, Lily was discharged with instructions for continued care at home.
Emma refused to return directly to her apartment until the police had been informed about the threatening note and the strange visitor.
Dominic arranged for an independent attorney named Lydia Park to speak with her.
Emma insisted on making her own decisions about protection.
By evening, mother and daughter were staying in a quiet guest apartment belonging to a friend of Mrs. Peterson.
Dominic visited only after Emma invited him.
She had brought the wooden music box from home.
The little swallows on its lid were worn smooth from years of Lily touching them.
Dominic ran one finger over the carvings.
"My mother made one like this for Nico."
Emma turned the small brass key.
A soft melody filled the room.
Lily smiled sleepily.
"Daddy's song."
Dominic closed his eyes.
He remembered that melody from childhood.
Then Lily leaned forward.
"Mommy, the little door is stuck again."
Emma frowned.
"What little door?"
Lily pointed beneath the music box.
"The secret one."
Dominic and Emma looked at each other.
Emma turned the box over.
Beneath the green felt lining was a narrow wooden panel.
She had never noticed it before.
Dominic pressed gently against one corner.
A hidden latch clicked open.
Inside was a tiny brass key.
Attached to it was a piece of yellowed paper bearing two characters and two numbers.
B-17.
Dominic stared at the key.
Then his face darkened.
"I know where this belongs."
Emma felt her heart begin pounding.
"Where?"
May you like
Dominic carefully closed his fingers around the little brass key.
"The last place my brother was seen alive."
