Chapter 3 - Nobody Touches LilyI don’t remember grabbing my coat.
I remember the sound of my own heartbeat.
I remember knocking over a chair.
I remember Dominic saying my name twice.
But all I could think about was Lily.
My eight-year-old daughter was twelve miles away at St. Matthew’s Elementary, sitting in a classroom decorated with paper pumpkins and multiplication charts.
She had kissed me goodbye the previous morning and complained that I had packed apple slices instead of cookies.
I had promised her I would be home in two days.
Now someone knew where she was.
“I need my keys.”
Dominic stepped between me and the front door.
“Who called?”
“Move.”
“Claire.”
“My daughter.”
His expression changed immediately.
“What about her?”
“Someone told me to get her out of school.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What exactly did they say?”
I repeated it.
Dominic went completely still.
Then he pulled out his phone.
“Marco.”
A man answered instantly.
“Get two cars to St. Matthew’s Elementary. Now. Secure an eight-year-old girl named Lily Donovan. Brown hair, green backpack—”
“How do you know what she looks like?”
Dominic glanced at me.
“Background check.”
Any other morning, I might have yelled.
Instead I grabbed his sleeve.
“Tell them not to scare her.”
He relayed the instruction.
Then he took my car keys from my trembling hand.
“You’re coming with me.”
We reached the school in nine minutes.
I don’t know how many traffic laws were violated.
A black SUV was already outside when we arrived.
I ran through the doors.
The receptionist stood up.
“Mrs. Donovan?”
“Where is Lily?”
“She’s safe.”
“Where?”
The principal emerged from the hallway with Lily beside her.
“Mom!”
I dropped to my knees.
She ran into me.
I held her so tightly she complained.
“Mom, I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry.”
I didn’t let go.
She smelled like crayons and strawberry shampoo.
Normal.
Alive.
Safe.
Dominic stopped several feet away.
Lily noticed him.
“Who’s that?”
“My employer.”
She stared.
“He looks mad.”
“He always looks like that.”
To my surprise, Dominic almost smiled.
The security team searched the school grounds.
Nothing.
No suspicious vehicles.
No strangers.
No indication anyone had actually intended to hurt Lily.
Which somehow frightened me more.
The phone call had been a warning.
Someone wanted me afraid.
I signed Lily out.
On the drive back, she sat between me and one of Dominic’s security officers.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Did you get fired?”
“Not yet.”
Dominic looked at me from the front seat.
Lily whispered, “Why does your boss have bodyguards?”
“That is an excellent question.”
“I can hear you,” Dominic said.
“I know.”
At the mansion, the triplets were waiting in the foyer.
The moment they saw Lily, they stared.
She stared back.
Caleb pointed.
“Who are you?”
“Lily.”
“Why are you here?”
“My mom said there are psycho children here.”
I closed my eyes.
“Lily.”
“What? You did.”
Benjamin grinned.
“I like her.”
Within fifteen minutes, four children vanished upstairs.
I followed.
Dominic stopped me.
“You’re not going anywhere alone.”
“I’m walking upstairs.”
“In this house.”
“So?”
“So whoever called you knew where your daughter went to school.”
“And you think that person is inside?”
“I think I’m done assuming anything.”
He called Marco.
“Check everyone who entered this property in the last seventy-two hours.”
Marco nodded.
I folded my arms.
“Dominic.”
His eyes shifted to me.
“You need to tell me what’s happening.”
“I don’t know.”
“You know more than I do.”
“Yes.”
“Then start there.”
He looked toward the children.
“Not here.”
We entered his office.
The room was enormous, lined with books nobody looked as though they were allowed to touch.
Dominic closed the door.
“Elena’s accident happened fourteen months ago.”
“I know.”
“She was driving home from a charity dinner.”
He paused.
“The brakes failed.”
My stomach tightened.
“Police determined mechanical failure.”
“But you don’t believe that.”
“I did.”
“Past tense.”
“Three months later, the mechanic who serviced the car disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“His business closed. Apartment empty. Phone disconnected.”
“Did police investigate?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
Dominic walked toward the window.
“Then six months ago I received a package.”
He opened a drawer and removed a plastic evidence sleeve.
Inside was a photograph of Elena’s damaged car.
Someone had circled the brake line in red.
Written beneath it:
ACCIDENTS ARE EASY TO BUY.
I stared at him.
“You think someone killed your wife.”
“I think someone wants me to think that.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
“Who would want Elena dead?”
“That list is shorter than the list of people who want me dead.”
I waited.
He understood the question.
“What do you do, Dominic?”
“I run Moretti Capital.”
“That’s the answer on the company website.”
His eyes sharpened.
“You researched me.”
“I research anyone offering me twenty thousand dollars to babysit.”
A humorless smile touched his mouth.
“My family built businesses in construction, logistics, hotels, and private equity.”
“Legally?”
He stared.
“That depends how far back you go.”
I exhaled.
“So the mafia rumors.”
“My grandfather was involved in organized crime.”
“Was?”
“My father spent most of his life separating the legitimate companies from everything else.”
“And you?”
“I have never been charged with a crime.”
“That was impressively specific.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’m not asking you to trust my family. I’m asking you to understand that powerful people collect enemies.”
“Then why hire strangers to care for your children?”
Pain flickered across his face.
“Because their mother is dead and I apparently don’t know how to raise them.”
That silenced me.
He looked down.
“I tried doing everything myself after Elena died. I stopped sleeping. Canceled meetings. Took them everywhere. Then the company began collapsing. Hundreds of employees depend on decisions I make.”
“And so you hired nannies.”
“Yes.”
“They drove them away.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?”
“I tried.”
“No. You punished them.”
He looked up.
“There’s a difference?”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“They don’t need to fear consequences. They need to know you’re staying.”
His eyes narrowed.
“I live here.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Silence.
“You disappear into your office for twelve hours.”
His expression darkened.
“You’ve been here one day.”
“And your sons asked me yesterday whether you eat dinner because they weren’t sure.”
That hit.
Hard.
I continued more gently.
“They lost one parent. Every nanny they chase away proves adults leave. Every time you disappear into work, they get to rehearse losing you too.”
He stared toward the window.
Then the office door burst open.
Lily stood there.
Behind her were three guilty triplets.
“Mom.”
I immediately knew.
“What happened?”
She held something behind her back.
“Nothing.”
“Lily.”
The triplets began backing away.
“Stop.”
They froze.
Lily slowly revealed an envelope.
It was old.
Yellowed.
Her name wasn’t on it.
Dominic’s was.
DOMINIC — IF I DON’T GET THE CHANCE TO TELL YOU.
His face drained.
“Where did you find that?”
“Behind a loose board in the playroom.”
He grabbed it.
The handwriting on the front was unmistakably the same as the photograph Victoria had taken.
Elena’s.
Dominic tore open the envelope.
Inside were three pages.
He read the first line.
Then lowered himself into his desk chair.
“What?”
He said nothing.
“Dominic?”
His eyes lifted to mine.
“Elena knew.”
“Knew what?”
He handed me the letter.
May you like
The first paragraph contained the sentence that changed everything:
Dominic, if you’re reading this, someone has finally decided I know too much.
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