Chapter 9 - THE SECOND SIGNATURE
Clara followed the transaction trail.
No drama.
No guns.
Spreadsheets.
Bank timestamps.
Archived authorization logs.
The sort of evidence men like Nicholas underestimated because it looked boring.
The account required two approvals.
Nicholas had provided one.
The second belonged to:
EDWARD VANCE.
Dominic’s late father.
Clara checked the date twice.
Impossible.
Edward Vance had died eight years earlier.
The transaction occurred four years ago.
Someone had been using his credentials.
Dominic stood behind her desk reading the printout.
“Who had access?”
“Whoever inherited his digital archive.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“Me.”
“Anyone else?”
He said nothing.
That was an answer.
“Dominic.”
“My father had a private administrator.”
“Name?”
“Samuel Pike.”
“Still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Arizona.”
“Do not send men.”
Dominic gave her a look.
“I was going to call my attorney.”
“Progress.”
Samuel Pike was seventy-four.
Retired.
And terrified the moment counsel contacted him.
He agreed to a recorded interview.
He had preserved Edward’s old authentication device after his death.
Why?
Because Nicholas told him Dominic had authorized continued use of legacy credentials for confidential family transactions.
“Did you verify that with Dominic?”
Pike looked ashamed.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Mr. Rossi told me not to bother him.”
Clara exchanged a look with Dominic.
Another man allowing Nicholas to define what Dominic supposedly wanted.
The pattern was familiar.
Pike gave investigators the device.
Records showed Nicholas had used it repeatedly.
No second conspirator.
No hidden villain.
Just another frightened man who failed to ask a question.
Afterward, Dominic stood alone in Clara’s office.
“My father taught people not to question us.”
“Yes.”
“Nicholas exploited that.”
“Yes.”
“So did I.”
Clara said nothing.
He looked toward the city outside the windows.
“If nobody around you can say no, you eventually stop knowing whether anyone is saying yes.”
That sentence made her look at him differently.
Not because it erased his past.
Because he was finally beginning to understand it.
Then Dominic turned.
“Dinner.”
Clara blinked.
“What?”
“With me.”
“That transition was terrible.”
“I’m aware.”
“Is this a business dinner?”
“No.”
“Does Toby know?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Dominic frowned.
“Why good?”
“Because my seven-year-old does not get a vote in my dating life.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“So that is a yes?”
Clara considered.
Then:
May you like
“One dinner.”
It was the first thing between them that nobody owed anybody.
