Chapter 11 - Dominic’s Inheritance
Dominic did not like Sebastian’s message.
That was obvious.
What concerned me was that he did not look surprised.
“What aren't you telling me?”
We stood inside his Manhattan office.
The city spread behind him through enormous windows.
He looked away.
“Nothing.”
I laughed.
“You are a terrible liar.”
“Most people disagree.”
“Most people are afraid of you.”
“And you aren't?”
“I’m currently deciding.”
That almost-smile appeared.
Then vanished.
“My father did work for Margrave.”
“We know.”
“No.”
He looked down.
“I mean knowingly.”
I waited.
Dominic opened a safe.
Inside were old documents.
Letters.
Photographs.
A small ledger.
“My father gave this to me before he died.”
“You never read it?”
“I read enough.”
“What does that mean?”
“It meant he wasn't the man I thought he was.”
I opened the ledger.
The entries described shipments, ports and payments.
Some clearly illegal.
Others humanitarian.
During one European crisis, Russo ships had moved medicine when official channels failed.
During another, the same network had smuggled luxury goods around sanctions.
Contradiction after contradiction.
Good and bad written in the same handwriting.
“My father joined Margrave believing it could keep commerce moving during emergencies,” Dominic said.
“And then?”
“He realized powerful people were exploiting it.”
“So he left.”
“He tried.”
I found the final pages.
There was Sebastian’s name.
Then Charles Whitmore.
Then Feldman.
And one more entry:
If D. ever inherits, do not allow Margrave to use him. Better he hate me than become me.
I looked up.
Dominic’s expression was tight.
“He was protecting you.”
“Maybe.”
“You thought he was ashamed of you?”
“I thought he didn't trust me.”
“What did he say?”
“That I was never to ask about Margrave.”
“And after he died?”
“I obeyed him.”
“For twenty years?”
“Yes.”
I smiled faintly.
“That might be the first obedient thing I've learned about you.”
He laughed.
This time quietly.
Then his expression softened.
“My father wasn't a hero, Casey.”
“I didn't say he was.”
“He did bad things.”
“So did Charles, probably. So did Feldman.”
“And me.”
I looked at him.
He did not look away.
There was no performance now.
No mafia myth.
No intimidating businessman.
Only a man asking whether the worst parts of his history made every better choice irrelevant.
“You still have tomorrow,” I said.
His expression changed.
“What?”
“You can't rewrite his life. Or yours. But you still have tomorrow.”
He stared at me.
“That sounds like something Mary would say.”
“Probably.”
“You talk about her a lot.”
“She’s smarter than both of us.”
“Almost certainly.”
His phone buzzed.
Daniel.
Margrave’s financial structure was collapsing.
Banks had frozen accounts.
Journalists were preparing investigations.
Tomas had agreed to cooperate in exchange for legal consideration.
Sebastian remained free, but his control was shrinking.
Then Daniel delivered the surprise.
Victoria wanted to testify.
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Of course.”
“You don't want her to?”
“I don't know what I want from Victoria anymore.”
“She can still do the right thing even if she did the wrong thing first.”
He looked at me.
“You believe that?”
“I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise people become the worst decision they ever made.”
Silence.
That line was for him too.
He knew it.
Victoria arrived later that afternoon.
The conversation between husband and wife was not explosive.
That made it sadder.
She handed Dominic her wedding ring.
“I’m sorry.”
He looked at it.
“For the contract?”
“For a lot of things.”
“Why did you marry me?”
She began crying.
“Because I loved you.”
“Past tense?”
“I don't know.”
He nodded slowly.
“That might be the first honest answer we've given each other in years.”
Victoria looked toward me.
Then back at Dominic.
“You love her.”
I nearly dropped the file in my hand.
Dominic’s expression became unreadable.
“Victoria.”
“I’m not accusing you.”
I stepped backward.
“I should go.”
“No,” Victoria said.
I stopped.
She wiped her eyes.
“You haven't done anything wrong.”
The old Victoria who had humiliated me in Maison Étoile seemed very far away.
“She sees you,” Victoria told Dominic.
“I spent years seeing what I wanted.”
Dominic said quietly, “This isn't about Casey.”
“No. Our marriage ended before she walked into it.”
They signed nothing that day.
Made no dramatic decisions.
Only agreed to separate.
For once, there were no threats.
No revenge.
Just two people admitting that wealth had hidden a dead marriage for years.
When Victoria left, Dominic remained near the window.
I did not mention her comment.
Neither did he.
Instead, he said, “Your mother has a transplant evaluation next week.”
I stared.
“How do you know?”
“You told me during the cab ride.”
“I did?”
“You were arguing with me. You say many useful things while arguing.”
I smiled despite myself.
“I’m going to Ohio.”
“Of course.”
“Come with me.”
The invitation surprised both of us.
He turned.
“What?”
“Not because I need protection.”
“Good clarification.”
“My mother is going to want to meet the man who turned my week into a federal investigation.”
His smile appeared.
“Does she know who I am?”
“No.”
“What are you going to tell her?”
I thought about it.
“A restaurant investor.”
“That might be the most hurtful thing you've said to me.”
I laughed.
The tension between us softened.
Then my phone rang.
Mom’s doctor.
I answered.
Within ten seconds, everything inside me stopped.
“Are you sure?”
Dominic’s smile vanished.
I gripped the phone.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”
I ended the call.
Dominic stepped closer.
“What happened?”
I couldn't speak.
For the first time in days, the tears came.
He looked terrified.
“Casey?”
I laughed through them.
May you like
“They found a kidney.”
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