Chapter 5 - HARPER’S EMPTY BEDEvelyn screamed Harper’s name before the car had even stopped.
The ride from Vermont lasted five hours.
To Evelyn, it felt like five years.
She burst through Vale Manor’s front doors and ran upstairs.
Harper’s room was empty.
Blanket on the floor.
Window closed.
No blood.
No broken furniture.
Nothing.
Which somehow made it worse.
Dominic entered behind her.
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
The guard responsible for the second floor looked sick.
“At 8:40, Mrs. Bennett put Harper to bed. At 9:15, she checked again. The girl was sleeping.”
“And then?”
“At ten, the room was empty.”
“How?”
“We don’t know.”
Dominic slammed his palm against the wall.
“Then learn.”
Evelyn turned on him.
“You promised me.”
The room went silent.
“You promised she would be safe.”
Dominic accepted the accusation.
Because it was true.
“I’m bringing her back.”
“That’s what people say when they don’t know where someone is!”
Her voice cracked.
Dominic stepped closer.
“I will bring her back.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because whoever took Harper just made the worst mistake of their life.”
Security footage revealed nothing.
Until Marcus checked old architectural plans.
A forgotten servants’ passage connected Harper’s room to a linen closet.
Someone had opened it from inside the wall.
Only a person familiar with the original mansion design would know it existed.
Vincent Vale certainly would.
Dominic called his uncle.
No answer.
Vincent’s apartment in Manhattan was empty.
His private plane was still grounded.
His driver claimed not to have seen him since morning.
Then Evelyn received a text.
Unknown number.
BRING THE VERMONT LETTER TO THE OLD PACKING HOUSE. MIDNIGHT. ALONE.
Attached was a photograph.
Harper sitting in a wooden chair.
Alive.
Crying.
Holding Mr. Bunny.
Evelyn nearly collapsed.
Dominic took the phone.
“No.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“That’s why you aren’t going alone.”
“They said—”
“They can say whatever they want.”
Evelyn grabbed his sleeve.
“If they see you, they might hurt her.”
Dominic looked at the photograph.
Behind Harper was a rusted metal wall.
Painted number: 17.
He knew the building.
An old Vale shipping warehouse near the Hudson.
Abandoned eleven years earlier.
“They won’t see me.”
At 11:52 p.m., Evelyn entered alone.
Or appeared to.
A transmitter had been sewn inside her coat.
Marcus’s team surrounded the property from four positions.
Dominic entered through an underground loading tunnel.
Evelyn walked into the warehouse carrying the letter.
“Harper!”
No answer.
A voice came through a speaker.
“Put the letter on the table.”
Evelyn obeyed.
“Where’s my daughter?”
“Walk away.”
“Not without Harper.”
“You’re not in a position to negotiate.”
Evelyn’s fear became anger.
“I survived your cellar.”
Silence.
“You made a mistake.”
Another silence.
Then a laugh.
A man’s voice.
Distorted electronically.
“Do you know why you survived?”
Evelyn stared at the speaker.
“Because Dominic came home early.”
“No.”
The voice sounded almost amused.
“Because someone wanted him to find you.”
Dominic heard it through his earpiece.
His blood ran cold.
The cellar had not been a failed murder.
It had been bait.
Someone wanted Evelyn discovered.
Wanted Julian’s case reopened.
Why?
A door opened on the far side.
Harper appeared.
“Mommy!”
Evelyn ran.
“Harper!”
A masked man dragged the child backward.
Dominic moved from the tunnel.
Marcus whispered through comms.
“Wait.”
Dominic ignored him.
Then gunfire erupted.
Not from Dominic’s men.
From above.
The masked kidnapper fell.
Evelyn screamed and covered Harper.
Dominic fired toward the catwalk.
A figure ran.
Marcus’s team entered.
Dominic chased the shooter through a side corridor.
The figure moved quickly.
Out a loading door.
Across the yard.
Dominic caught him near the fence.
They crashed into gravel.
Dominic tore away the mask.
Richard Sloan.
The missing attorney.
Bruised.
Bleeding.
Alive.
Dominic pressed a gun to his chest.
“You shot Graham.”
Richard gasped.
“No.”
“You kidnapped Harper.”
“No!”
“You were shooting from the catwalk.”
“At the man holding her!”
Dominic hesitated.
Richard’s hands were shaking.
“They took me too.”
“Who?”
“Vincent.”
Dominic froze.
Richard coughed.
“And Celeste.”
Marcus arrived.
Richard looked at Dominic desperately.
“You think I framed Julian.”
“Did you?”
“I helped create the documents.”
Evelyn stared.
Dominic’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Richard raised both hands.
“But not because I wanted to.”
“Explain quickly.”
“Vincent had my son.”
Richard’s voice broke.
“My boy was seventeen. Drugs. Debt. Vincent owned the people he owed. He said my son would disappear if I didn’t cooperate.”
“You let my brother die.”
“I thought they would exile Julian.”
“They murdered him.”
“I know.”
Dominic hit Richard.
Once.
Hard.
Richard fell.
Dominic raised the gun again.
Evelyn spoke.
“Dominic.”
He did not look at her.
“Don’t.”
Richard had helped destroy his brother.
Helped bury the truth.
Helped create seven years of hatred.
But killing him now would not find Vincent.
Dominic lowered the weapon.
“Where is my uncle?”
Richard wiped blood from his mouth.
“I don’t know.”
“Then you’re useless.”
“No.”
Richard reached inside his torn jacket slowly.
Marcus aimed.
Richard produced a flash drive.
“I spent seven years collecting insurance.”
“What’s on it?”
“Everything I could find.”
“About Vincent?”
Richard shook his head.
“That’s the problem.”
Dominic frowned.
“What?”
Richard looked toward Evelyn.
“Vincent didn’t start this.”
“Who did?”
“Your father.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
Richard continued.
“Not the betrayal. Not Julian.”
“Then what?”
“The money.”
Dominic stared.
Richard swallowed.
“Your father discovered Vincent had stolen millions because Salvatore Vale had been secretly moving even more money himself.”
“For what?”
“I never knew.”
Evelyn remembered Isabella’s letter.
The enemy became the family.
Richard looked at Dominic.
“Your mother found out first.”
A vehicle exploded outside.
The warehouse windows shattered.
Marcus threw Dominic down.
Flames rose.
Through the smoke, Richard screamed.
“They found us!”
A bullet struck Richard in the stomach.
Dominic dragged him behind cover.
“Stay with me.”
Richard laughed weakly.
“Funny.”
“What?”
“I spent years terrified you’d kill me.”
Blood spread beneath him.
“Now you’re trying to save me.”
“Where’s Vincent?”
Richard’s eyes fluttered.
“There’s a house.”
“What house?”
“Your father bought it under another name.”
“Where?”
Richard whispered an address.
Then grabbed Dominic’s coat.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“When you find Vincent…”
Richard coughed blood.
“…don’t assume he’s the one holding your mother.”
Dominic stared.
“Isabella is alive?”
Richard smiled faintly.
“Very.”
Then his hand fell.
Dominic rose slowly.
Across the warehouse, Harper clung to Evelyn.
Alive.
Safe.
But somewhere out there, perhaps, was another woman Dominic had believed dead.
May you like
His mother.
And Richard’s final warning meant the conspiracy was still larger than Vincent.
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