Chapter 3 - the fire in the boathouse
By 2:00 AM, a heavy rain began to fall over the estate, hammering against the tall slate roofs and washing over the manicured gardens.
Dominic walked down the stone path leading toward the lakeside boathouse, wrapped in a dark wool overcoat. Beside him walked Elise, wearing a heavy jacket over her simple clothes, her face pale under the amber walkway lights. Four heavily armed guards followed closely behind them.
"Why would she keep me here?" Elise asked softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. "If she hated my mother so much... why let me work in your house?"
"Because Marcella is a narcissist," Dominic replied, his deep voice calm and unshakeable. "She wanted to watch Julian's daughter scrub floors while her own son lived like a prince in Paris. It gave her a sense of absolute power."
They reached the timber deck of the two-story stone boathouse. The structure stood quiet against the dark water of the lake, its tall arched doors locked with heavy iron bolts.
Dominic pulled a heavy brass key from his pocket and inserted it into the padlock.
Before he could turn the mechanism, a bright orange light flickered behind the frost-covered windowpanes on the upper level!
"Boss! Fire!" one of the guards shouted.
Dense, black smoke began pouring from the roof vents as flames tore through the dry timber framing inside!
"Marcella's men," Dominic spat, drawing his silver revolver from his coat. "Marcus! Secure the perimeter!"
Dominic slammed his heavy shoulder against the wooden side door, shattering the iron latch in a single powerful blow. He burst into the smoke-filled interior, grabbing a wet canvas tarp from the boat rack and wrapping it around Elise's shoulders.
"Dominic, no! It's too dangerous!" Elise gasped, coughing from the thick smoke.
"My brother's memory is in this building," Dominic growled, pushing through the heat toward the rear stone wall.
Inside a hollowed-out stone alcove beneath the stairs sat a heavy iron safe, its doors glowing orange from the rising heat around it. Dominic grabbed a heavy steel crowbar resting near the boat winch, driving the wedge into the heated seam of the safe door with crushing force!
With a loud metallic groan, the heat-weakened lock snapped open.
Inside sat a small, fireproof steel box and a leather-bound diary with scorched edges. Dominic grabbed both items, shoving them into his coat, then grabbed Elise by her waist and carried her out through the burning door just as the upper timber roof collapsed into a shower of sparks!
They hit the wet grass outside as the fire crew rushed down the hill with hoses.
Dominic laid the scorched leather diary onto the hood of his armored SUV, opening the cover carefully under the spotlight. Written on the first page in delicate, fading blue ink were the words: For my baby girl, Elise Ravello.
Tucked inside the back cover was a folded document stamped with an official state seal—a secondary will signed by Julian Ravello twenty-nine years ago, leaving seventy percent of the Ravello syndicate's private real estate holdings directly to his daughter.
Elise touched the paper with trembling fingers, tears welling in her eyes as she read her mother's words.
May you like
Dominic turned around, his face dark as a storm cloud as he looked up at the main estate mansion on the hill. Standing near the second-floor balcony window, watching the fire burn through a pair of binoculars, was Marcella's primary financial advisor, Arthur Vance.
Dominic reached into his coat and pulled out his phone. "Marcus. Bring Arthur down to the wine cellar. Now."
