Chapter 3 - The Lies in the Shadows
The grand ballroom was cleared within five minutes. Dominic’s chief lieutenant, Frank, along with six heavily armed enforcers, escorted the three hundred guests out of the estate, locking the heavy iron gates from the inside.
Inside Dominic’s private, dark-paneled study, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Heavy velvet curtains blocked out the night sky, while a single brass lamp illuminated the massive oak desk.
Vivienne sat pinned in a heavy leather chair, two armed guards standing directly behind her. Her crimson gown was wrinkled, her face pale, but her sharp, arrogant eyes remained fixed on Dominic.
Across the room, Elena sat on a velvet sofa, holding a warm cup of tea. Maisie was asleep beside her, her small head resting comfortably on Elena's lap. Elena softly stroked the little girl's hair, her gentle touch instinctive and maternal.
Dominic stood by the high glass windows, his tuxedo jacket discarded, his black shirt sleeves rolled up to his broad forearms. He held the silver bracelet between his fingers, turning it over and over.
"Speak, Vivienne," Dominic said, his voice flat and terrifyingly calm. "Before I hand you over to Frank's team in the basement."
Vivienne let out a cold, bitter laugh, resting her chin on her manicured hand. "You think you're so smart, Dominic. You run a multi-billion-dollar syndicate, yet you couldn't see what was happening under your own roof seven years ago."
"Explain the bracelet," Dominic growled, stepping toward her chair.
"Isabella was barren, Dominic!" Vivienne spat, her voice laced with venom. "Your precious late wife couldn't give you an heir! She knew if the family found out she couldn't carry the Bellaro bloodline, your lieutenants would press you to set her aside!"
Elena gasped softly from the sofa, her hands tightening around Maisie's blanket.
"So Isabella bought a baby," Vivienne continued, a cruel smile touching her bloody lips. "She paid Dr. Vance at Saint Jude's Memorial two million dollars to find a young, penniless girl in the ward—a girl with no family, no money, and no power to fight back. They induced her labor, took her healthy baby girl, and told her the child was born stillborn."
Elena let out a broken, agonizing sob, covering her face with her hands. "My baby... my little girl... they stole her from me..."
Dominic froze in the center of the room. His mind replayed the night seven years ago—Isabella emerging from the delivery room holding a pink-blanketed infant, refusing to let any family doctors near the medical records.
Dominic turned his gaze toward Maisie, who was sleeping peacefully on Elena's lap. The resemblance between Elena and Maisie was undeniable—the same soft brown hair, the same fair rosy skin, the same delicate curve of the jaw.
"Where is Dr. Vance now?" Dominic asked, his deep voice shaking with suppressed fury.
Vivienne smirked. "Dr. Vance retired to a private estate in Miami six years ago. But you'll never reach him, Dominic. Because the moment I realized the maid was wearing that bracelet tonight, my driver sent a signal to his house."
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Before Dominic could respond, Frank burst into the study, holding a high-tech satellite phone.
"Boss," Frank said, his face grave. "Our perimeter guards just intercepted an encrypted transmission originating from Dr. Vance's estate. A strike team is already en route to this mansion."
