CHAPTER 10 — THE SECRET THAT MADE DOMINIC A TARGET
Nobody spoke.
Not Dominic.
Not me.
Not even my father.
The room seemed to shrink around us.
I looked at the birth certificate again.
Then at Dominic.
“You're not Anthony's son?”
Dominic stared at the document.
“I don't know.”
My father stepped closer.
“You were never supposed to see this.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Who is my father?”
Michael's expression hardened.
“That is the question everyone has been killing people to hide.”
Dominic picked up the certificate.
“This is forged.”
“Maybe.”
“Anthony's name is on my birth certificate.”
“Yes.”
“My mother signed it.”
“Yes.”
“Then what's disputed?”
Michael looked at him.
“DNA.”
Dominic went completely still.
I watched him carefully.
For the first time, the man who seemed to control everything looked like he had lost control of his own identity.
“What happened?” I asked.
Michael exhaled.
“Eight years ago, Anthony discovered that someone had altered Dominic's medical records.”
“Why?”
“Because they were looking for something.”
“What?”
“Blood.”
Dominic frowned.
“Blood?”
“Your blood type.”
Silence.
Michael continued.
“There was a genetic marker in your family that matched a person they desperately needed.”
Dominic's face hardened.
“Who?”
Michael looked at me.
Then back at Dominic.
“Your mother.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“My mother died when I was twelve.”
“No.”
Michael shook his head.
“She disappeared.”
Dominic took a step back.
“No.”
“I was there when it happened.”
“You knew my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Anthony made me swear.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“My whole life is apparently built on people swearing to keep secrets from me.”
I understood that feeling.
Too well.
My father looked at him.
“Anthony believed someone had replaced your mother.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“Replaced?”
“A woman who looked like her. Same name. Same photographs. Same legal records.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It sounds impossible.”
Michael pointed to a photograph on the wall.
Dominic's mother.
Standing beside Anthony.
And behind them—
Charles Whitmore.
Vanessa's father.
I felt cold.
“Charles knew?”
“He knew everything.”
Dominic stared at the photograph.
“Why would he care about my mother?”
“Because she knew where the money was.”
“What money?”
“The original Black Ledger.”
I frowned.
“I thought we already had it.”
Michael shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed toward the black memory card.
“That is only a copy.”
My heart dropped.
“The real ledger…”
“Contains names.”
“Names of buyers?”
“Names of everyone.”
He looked at me.
“Judges. Police chiefs. CEOs. Politicians. Doctors. Lawyers.”
“And Charles Whitmore.”
Michael nodded.
“Charles wasn't just part of the network.”
He paused.
“He was one of its architects.”
Dominic's hands curled into fists.
“Then Vanessa…”
“Was raised inside it.”
I remembered her at the mansion.
The way she humiliated me.
The way she seemed completely fearless.
The way she always acted as if Dominic belonged to her.
Suddenly it made sense.
“She didn't love you,” I whispered.
Dominic looked at me.
“She was assigned to you.”
His jaw tightened.
“Probably.”
My father walked to another table.
He opened a second folder.
Inside were photographs of Dominic and Vanessa.
Their first meeting.
Their engagement.
Private dinners.
Business meetings.
Every moment had been documented.
One photo had a note written underneath:
KEEP HER CLOSE TO HIM.
Another:
MARRIAGE BEFORE THE LEDGER IS FOUND.
Dominic stared at the pages.
“They were planning to marry us.”
“No,” Michael said.
“They were planning to control you.”
Dominic looked at me.
“And Avery?”
My father hesitated.
“She was the contingency.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
Michael looked directly at me.
“If Dominic died before the marriage…”
He paused.
“They needed another person who could access the ledger.”
I touched the black key.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
I shook my head.
“But why me?”
“Because Michael Carter's daughter was the only person Anthony trusted enough to inherit the key.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Your father made you the keyholder.”
“I didn't know.”
“That was the point.”
Suddenly, the lights flickered.
My father froze.
“What?”
He listened.
Footsteps.
Above us.
Someone was inside the cemetery.
Dominic pulled his gun.
“Can they get in?”
Michael shook his head.
“Not unless they know the second entrance.”
A metallic sound echoed through the room.
My father looked toward the ceiling.
“They know.”
The steel door slammed shut.
Then came the sound of locks turning.
One.
Two.
Three.
Dominic rushed toward the door.
“It's electronically sealed.”
Michael looked at him.
“They're not trying to get in.”
“What?”
“They're locking us in.”
A small red light appeared above the door.
Then a voice came through the speaker.
A woman's voice.
Vanessa.
“Hello, Avery.”
I froze.
“She survived.”
Dominic looked at the speaker.
“Vanessa.”
Her laugh echoed through the room.
“You finally found the vault.”
My father stepped closer.
“Where's Linda?”
Vanessa didn't answer.
I shouted:
“Where is my mother?”
A pause.
Then:
“Safe.”
I didn't believe her.
“Let me talk to her.”
“No.”
“Then you're going to regret this.”
Vanessa laughed softly.
“You still don't understand.”
“Understand what?”
“You think Charles Whitmore is the mastermind.”
My father looked at Dominic.
Dominic looked at me.
Vanessa continued.
“He isn't.”
Silence.
“Charles worked for someone too.”
My heart pounded.
“Who?”
Vanessa's voice became almost a whisper.
“The person who started this twenty-three years ago.”
Michael's face suddenly went pale.
He whispered one word.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Dad?”
He stepped backward.
“That's impossible.”
“Who?”
Michael stared at the speaker.
“Isabella.”
Dominic froze.
“My mother?”
Michael nodded slowly.
“Your mother wasn't replaced.”
Dominic's breathing changed.
“She was the one who created the network.”
The room fell silent.
I looked at the photographs again.
Isabella Moretti.
Charles Whitmore.
Anthony Moretti.
Michael Carter.
All connected.
All hiding something.
Then Dominic suddenly noticed another photograph.
He picked it up.
It showed Isabella holding a baby.
Dominic.
Beside her stood another infant.
A little girl.
My father stared at the photograph.
His face drained of color.
I looked closer.
The baby girl had a tiny crescent-shaped birthmark beneath her left ear.
My hand instinctively touched my own neck.
Dominic looked at me.
Then at the photograph.
My father whispered:
“Avery…”
I couldn't breathe.
“What?”
He pointed at the baby.
“That girl…”
His voice broke.
“…was supposed to have died twenty-seven years ago.”
I stared at the photograph.
Then at Dominic.
Then back at the baby.
And suddenly—
I remembered something my mother had told me when I was little.
You were lucky to survive.
I had always thought she meant my difficult birth.
But now I understood.
She had never been talking about my birth.
She had been talking about something else.
Something that happened before I could remember.
Something that connected me to the Moretti family.
The speaker crackled again.
Vanessa's voice returned.
“Avery, ask your father who your real mother is.”
My father closed his eyes.
May you like
And I heard him whisper:
“Linda isn't your biological mother.”
