Chapter 2 - “MY DAUGHTER”Nobody spoke.
Not Raymond.
Not Amelia.
Not the forty diners watching from their tables.
Dominic’s words seemed to remain suspended beneath the chandeliers.
My daughter.
Amelia stared up at him from the floor.
“That’s not possible.”
Dominic’s attention immediately returned to her.
“Don’t try to move yet.”
“You said—”
“I know what I said.”
“My father is dead.”
Pain crossed Dominic’s face.
“That's what your mother told you?”
Amelia’s thoughts stumbled over one another.
Her mother, Claire Hayes, had died seven years earlier after a long illness. She had spoken rarely about Amelia’s father.
His name had supposedly been Daniel.
He had supposedly died before Amelia turned two.
No photographs.
No grandparents.
No grave Amelia had ever visited.
Whenever Amelia asked questions, Claire always answered the same way.
Some doors are safer closed.
Amelia had assumed the grief was simply too much.
Now Dominic Vale was kneeling beside her while half of Chicago’s restaurant elite stared.
Raymond backed toward the door.
Dominic noticed.
“Stay.”
Raymond gave a thin laugh.
“You don’t give me orders.”
“No?”
Dominic straightened.
Two men stepped through the private doorway behind him.
Neither touched Raymond.
They didn’t need to.
One was Castellano’s director of security.
The other was an off-duty Chicago police lieutenant who had been eating in the private dining room during a charity planning meeting.
Raymond glanced toward the main entrance.
The restaurant manager quietly locked it.
Raymond’s face tightened.
“You can’t imprison me.”
The lieutenant responded calmly.
“The front door is being secured because we have a suspected assault and multiple witnesses. Police are already on their way.”
Raymond pointed at Amelia.
“She attacked me first.”
Dozens of faces turned toward him.
The lie sounded absurd even before a woman near Table Nine raised her phone.
“I recorded the whole thing.”
Another diner spoke.
“So did I.”
Then another.
“I saw him grab her.”
Raymond’s confidence flickered.
Amelia should have felt relieved.
Instead, she felt as though the entire foundation of her life had cracked.
She looked at Dominic.
“Why did you call me your daughter?”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“Because you are.”
Amelia laughed once.
It came out broken.
“No.”
“Amelia—”
“No.”
She attempted to sit up.
Pain exploded through her head.
The room tilted violently.
Dominic caught her shoulders before she fell.
She flinched.
He immediately released her.
The reaction hurt him more than she expected.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Two paramedics entered moments later.
Dominic stepped aside but never took his eyes from Amelia.
Raymond tried again to leave.
The lieutenant blocked him.
“Sir, wait for responding officers.”
“This is ridiculous.”
Raymond pointed toward Dominic.
“You think this guy is some hero? Ask him why a billionaire restaurant owner suddenly claims a waitress is his daughter.”
Dominic’s face remained motionless.
Raymond’s fear was transforming into desperation.
Amelia recognized that too.
He had always become cruelest when cornered.
“Maybe ask him,” Raymond continued, “where he was for the last twenty-something years.”
That landed.
Amelia looked at Dominic.
He did not defend himself.
The paramedic pressed gauze against her temple.
“What’s your pain level?”
“Six.”
“Any nausea?”
“A little.”
“Loss of consciousness?”
“I don’t think so.”
Dominic’s hands curled at his sides.
The paramedic asked Amelia several more questions before recommending transport for stitches and concussion evaluation.
When they lifted her onto the stretcher, Amelia caught Dominic’s sleeve.
He looked down.
“Tell me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“What was my mother’s favorite song?”
Dominic went still.
Raymond gave a mocking laugh.
“What does that prove?”
Amelia ignored him.
Claire had loved music.
There was one song she played whenever she cooked on Sunday mornings.
One song Amelia had never told anyone about.
Dominic swallowed.
Then said softly, “Dream a Little Dream of Me.”
Amelia’s fingers slipped from his sleeve.
The room disappeared for a moment.
Her mother singing off-key while stirring pancake batter.
Bare feet on yellow kitchen tile.
Sunlight through cheap curtains.
That song.
Always that song.
Amelia stared at Dominic.
“How?”
“Because she sang it the morning you were born.”
A tear escaped before Amelia could stop it.
Dominic looked away.
Police officers entered.
Raymond immediately straightened.
“Finally. She attacked me and—”
“Raymond Fletcher?”
The older officer looked at his tablet.
“Yes.”
“Step over here.”
Raymond’s eyes narrowed.
“For what?”
“We’ve received multiple witness statements and video footage concerning an assault.”
Raymond gestured wildly.
“That woman is unstable.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
“Say that again.”
The room chilled.
Raymond seemed to remember whom he was speaking to.
He stepped back.
“You stay out of this.”
Dominic’s voice dropped.
“I stayed out of her life once.”
Amelia looked at him.
Dominic’s eyes never left Raymond.
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
Raymond laughed bitterly.
“You have no idea what she’s like.”
“I know exactly what men like you are like.”
The officer stepped between them.
“Mr. Fletcher, turn around.”
For the first time that night, real panic entered Raymond’s face.
“You’re arresting me?”
“We’re detaining you while we investigate.”
Raymond looked at Amelia on the stretcher.
The mask slipped.
For one terrifying second, she saw the same man who had once pinned her against a kitchen wall and whispered that nobody would ever believe her.
“You did this.”
Amelia’s pulse accelerated.
Dominic stepped directly into Raymond’s line of sight.
“No.”
His voice was nearly a whisper.
“You did.”
Raymond was escorted away.
The dining room remained silent until the doors closed behind him.
Then Dominic turned toward Amelia.
The power disappeared from his posture.
He suddenly looked older.
Not like the man newspapers called the Emperor of Chicago Dining.
Like a father who had arrived decades too late.
At the ambulance entrance, Amelia stopped him.
“I’m going to the hospital.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
Dominic froze.
“I don’t know you.”
His expression tightened.
“You’re right.”
“And you don’t get to walk into my life because you recognized a necklace.”
“You’re right about that too.”
She had expected argument.
Instead, Dominic stepped back.
“I’ll stay here.”
Amelia stared at him.
“That’s it?”
“No.”
He reached slowly into his pocket.
“Your mother sent me something twenty-seven years ago.”
He produced an old folded photograph.
The edges were worn nearly white.
Amelia’s breath caught.
Claire stood in front of Lake Michigan.
Young.
Laughing.
Pregnant.
Dominic stood beside her with one hand across her stomach.
On the back was Claire’s handwriting.
Amelia recognized it instantly.
For Dominic. So you never forget there were three of us once.
Amelia stared at the photograph.
Then at him.
“Why did she leave you?”
Dominic looked toward the door through which Raymond had disappeared.
When he answered, his voice was heavy.
“She didn’t.”
A chill passed through Amelia.
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone made sure I believed she did.”
“Who?”
Dominic hesitated.
May you like
Then said the name that turned Amelia’s confusion into dread.
“Raymond Fletcher’s father.”
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