Chapter 4 - the forged line
Dominic stared at the typed note for a full sixty seconds. The paper was standard printer bond, but the crease marks were old.
"Who gave you this?" he asked.
"It was slipped under my apartment door in Cleveland three months ago," Anna said. "I was working two jobs at a diner. Noah had pneumonia twice in four months. I couldn't pay the heat bill. When I saw the name Dominic Ferraro on the news, I thought... I thought someone inside this family was trying to help me."
"Nobody in this family helps anyone without a price," Dominic said coldly.
He picked up his desk phone and pressed a single button. "Mateo. Bring Vivienne up here. Now."
Two minutes later, the double doors of the office swung open. Vivienne walked in, flanked by two guards. She had washed her face and changed into a dark green wrap dress, but her hair was disheveled and her lower lip was swollen purple where Dominic’s ring had caught her.
"Dominic, this has gone far enough," Vivienne began, trying to summon her usual haughty composure. "You are parading your old hotel fling through your private office while the entire city is talking about the scene you made tonight."
Dominic flicked the typed paper across the desk. It landed right in front of her.
"Did you write this?" he asked.
Vivienne glanced down at the note. Her eyes flickered with a sudden, sharp recognition that she quickly tried to mask with disdain.
"I have no idea what that is," she said smoothly. "Anyone could type that on a cheap machine."
"It says 'Ask for Vivienne,'" Dominic pointed out. "Three months ago, you personally approved the hiring of six new maids for the east wing. Household staff has always been handled by the head butler, Mrs. Gable. Why did you personally interview Anna Reed?"
Vivienne didn't flinch. She folded her arms across her chest, leaning against the back of an armchair.
"Because Julian asked me to keep an eye on her before he died," Vivienne said calmly.
The room dropped another ten degrees.
Anna gasped, leaning forward on the sofa. "What? Julian never met me!"
"Oh, please, Anna," Vivienne sneered, looking down her nose. "Are we going to keep playing the virgin saint? Dominic, your brother Julian was visiting Lake Shore Drive twice a week during that harbor negotiation. Did you really think she only brought room service to your room?"
Dominic rose from his chair slowly, a mountain shifting in the dark. "Watch your tongue, Vivienne."
"I’m telling you the truth, Dominic!" Vivienne cried out, taking a calculated step forward, her eyes filling with dramatic, practiced tears. "Julian confessed it to me on his deathbed two years ago! He told me he had an affair with your hotel girl! He told me she got pregnant, and he paid her off to keep her away from you so your pride wouldn't tear this family apart!"
Anna jumped to her feet, her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. "That is a disgusting lie! I never laid eyes on Julian Ferraro in my life!"
"Then why did you keep the ring?" Vivienne shot back, pointing an accusatory finger at Noah. "Julian had access to Dominic’s safe! He could have taken that ring to mock him, or given it to you as a trophy! Noah isn't your son, Dominic. He's Julian's!"
Dominic stood frozen between the two women.
Vivienne's lie was clever. It was filthy, venomous, and perfectly designed to strike at Dominic's deepest insecurity: his complicated, bitter rivalry with his late younger brother. Julian had spent his whole life trying to take what belonged to Dominic—his territory, his respect, his authority.
May you like
Vivienne reached into her small clutch purse and pulled out a folded document. She tossed it onto Dominic’s desk.
"That is a notarized trust amendment Julian drafted before he died of cancer," Vivienne said, her chin raised triumphantly. "He left a contingency fund for an unnamed male heir born in October eight years ago. Why would Julian do that, Dominic? Why would my husband leave two million dollars to a child in Cleveland if he wasn't the father?"
