Chapter 6 - Why Dominic had been waiting for my father
Dominic had known Harold was coming.
That was another truth I did not appreciate discovering late.
“You expected him that night?”
“Yes.”
“You could have told me sooner.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
I had begun noticing that about him.
Dominic was capable of terrifying things, but when confronted with a truthful criticism, he rarely tried to escape through language.
“What did you expect him to bring?”
“Documents.”
“Not me.”
“No.”
He opened another file on the library desk.
Weeks before my arrival, one of Dominic’s accountants noticed unusual transfers through a Valletti-controlled lending entity.
A senior manager had approved loans routed toward Mercer-linked borrowers without authorization.
Harold’s debt was one of them.
Dominic suspected someone was using his network to hide Mercer financing.
He ordered an internal review.
Then one of his men disappeared.
Not vanished in the romantic mafia sense.
He stopped reporting to work, emptied an apartment, and crossed into the Bahamas using his own passport.
Alive.
Running.
That man had approved Harold’s loan.
Dominic believed Mercer had been exploiting parts of the Valletti organization.
“Why not go to federal investigators?”
A shadow crossed his face.
“Because when you run criminal businesses, calling federal investigators about another criminal arrangement becomes complicated.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
“It is.”
Good.
I wanted him to hear it that way.
He continued.
Harold contacted Dominic, claiming he could resolve everything if given a private meeting.
Dominic agreed because he expected documents connecting Mercer to the unauthorized loans.
Instead, Harold brought me.
“He thought you would accept me?”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
“My reputation.”
The answer disgusted both of us.
Harold assumed a feared criminal man would understand ownership of women better than legal ownership of property.
Dominic’s mouth hardened.
“He gambled on my worst reputation.”
“And lost?”
“Not exactly.”
I looked at him.
“You are helping me.”
“Yes.”
“That hurts Harold.”
“Yes.”
“So he lost.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Unless he wanted me angry enough to attack Mercer.”
That stopped me.
Harold could have been attempting something more desperate.
Set Dominic against Mercer.
Let two dangerous men destroy each other.
Then negotiate from whichever wreckage remained.
“Would my father think like that?”
Dominic gave me a look.
“You know him better than I do.”
Unfortunately, I did.
Yes.
Harold would.
Then Dominic showed me a recording from the mansion gate after my father left the second time.
One of Harold’s men had remained behind for six minutes.
He made a phone call.
Security audio captured only his side.
“She’s staying.”
Pause.
“No, Valletti didn’t take the bait.”
Pause.
“Tell Mercer.”
I felt cold.
The bait.
Me.
Harold had expected something specific from Dominic.
Possession?
Violence?
Detention?
Anything that would allow him to claim I had been taken against my will.
Naomi saw it instantly.
“If Dominic had refused to let you leave, even for ‘protection,’ Harold could use that in the capacity case.”
Missing daughter.
Criminal mansion.
Dangerous man.
Evidence that I was vulnerable and needed a guardian.
My father had tried to manufacture the very instability he needed to control my trust.
Dominic had almost become part of the proof.
That explained why Harold returned demanding me back.
He wanted the scene.
The threat.
The confrontation.
And Dominic had supplied one.
The marble-column incident was on surveillance video.
Dominic looked furious with himself when Naomi explained it.
“You threatened him.”
“Yes.”
“In front of Serena.”
“Yes.”
“That video could be used to suggest she is being controlled by you now.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“What do we do?”
Naomi answered:
“You do nothing.”
He stared.
She continued.
“Serena gets independent housing. Independent security if she wants it. Independent counsel. Your employees stop speaking for her. She decides where she goes.”
A long silence.
Then Dominic looked at me.
“What do you want?”
The question frightened me.
Because this time the answer carried actual consequences.
I looked toward Biscayne Bay.
“I want to leave the mansion.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
Disappointment, maybe.
He nodded.
“Then we arrange it.”
No argument.
No guilt.
No reminder of danger.
That was the moment I first believed his respect might survive inconvenience.
Two days later, I moved into a secured apartment arranged through Naomi rather than Dominic.
That evening, a package arrived.
No return address.
Inside was my mother’s necklace.
The one Harold told me had been lost after her death.
Alongside it lay a note:
Your father has lied about more than money.
May you like
Ask who signed Sofia’s final medical directive.
Cliffhanger: Someone returned Serena’s supposedly lost family necklace—and accused Harold of hiding the truth about her mother’s final medical decisions.
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