Chapter 12 - THE PRICE OF BRINGING HER HOMEI had imagined finding Isabelle a thousand times.
In my dreams, she ran toward me.
I caught her.
Held her.
Promised I would never let her go.
Sometimes I woke up reaching for her side of the bed.
Sometimes I could still smell her perfume.
But in none of those dreams did Anthony Bellucci stand between us holding a gun.
“Dominic,” Isabelle whispered.
I looked at her.
She was thinner than I remembered.
There was a scar above her collarbone.
Her left hand trembled.
But her eyes were the same.
Those beautiful brown eyes.
She was alive.
“I'm here,” I said.
Anthony smiled.
“How touching.”
Monroe stepped into the corridor behind me.
“Mr. Bellucci, put the weapon down.”
Anthony glanced toward her.
“Detective.”
“Release Mrs. Romano.”
He laughed.
“I'm afraid that's not possible.”
I took one step forward.
The gun shifted.
“Don't,” Isabelle whispered.
I stopped.
Anthony looked at me.
“You always were predictable, Dominic.”
I said nothing.
“Threaten your business, you fight. Threaten your reputation, you fight harder. Threaten your family…”
He smiled.
“You stop thinking altogether.”
I stared at him.
“What do you want?”
“The pendants.”
“They're with the police.”
His smile disappeared.
“Then you've made a mistake.”
Monroe spoke.
“The evidence is already secured. Hurting Isabelle won't change that.”
Anthony looked at her.
“You have no idea what you've found.”
“Then explain it.”
He laughed.
“An investigator asking a reasonable question. How refreshing.”
I looked at Isabelle.
She was watching me carefully.
Her right hand rested against her side.
Then she moved two fingers.
Tapped twice.
The same gesture from the photograph.
I followed her gaze.
A small red button sat beneath the desk.
An emergency alarm.
She wanted me to notice it.
Anthony continued speaking.
“The foundation was merely a financial instrument. Vincent was greedy. Donnelly was resentful. Your father was inconvenient.”
My blood chilled.
“You killed him.”
Anthony shrugged.
“Your father wanted to walk away from an arrangement he helped establish.”
I clenched my jaw.
“He was involved in trafficking people?”
Anthony's expression changed.
For the first time, his confidence faltered.
“So Vincent talked.”
“Answer me.”
Anthony sighed.
“Your father became involved with men who promised enormous profits from illegal transport. Eventually, he discovered the human cost.”
I stared.
“He wanted out?”
“Yes.”
“Did he try to help anyone?”
Anthony looked irritated.
“He became sentimental.”
I felt sick.
My father had not been innocent.
But he had apparently tried to stop.
And Anthony had killed him before he could.
“Isabelle found the records,” Anthony continued. “She wanted to expose everyone.”
My wife raised her head.
“I wanted to stop you.”
Her voice was weak.
But clear.
Anthony tightened his grip.
She winced.
I stepped forward.
“Let her go.”
He pointed the gun at me.
“Stay back.”
Monroe raised her hands slightly.
“Anthony, you can still surrender.”
He laughed.
“You think I intend to spend the rest of my life in prison?”
Isabelle looked at me.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Dominic.”
I swallowed.
“I'm here, baby.”
She shook her head.
“Listen to me.”
Anthony frowned.
“Quiet.”
She ignored him.
“The girls.”
My chest tightened.
“They're safe.”
Her face crumpled.
“All three?”
“Yes.”
“Olivia?”
“Safe.”
“Sophie?”
“Safe.”
“Nora?”
I felt tears rise.
“She's safe.”
Isabelle began sobbing.
Anthony looked irritated.
“Enough.”
But my wife kept looking at me.
“Do they remember me?”
The question destroyed me.
I couldn't speak.
She took a shaky breath.
“Dominic, do they remember?”
“Yes.”
My voice broke.
“They sing your song.”
Isabelle covered her mouth.
Anthony pulled her hand away.
“Stop talking.”
I looked at him.
“You've taken fourteen months.”
He smiled coldly.
“And you think you can get them back?”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I can't.”
He looked surprised.
I continued.
“But you don't get another minute.”
I moved.
Not toward him.
Toward the emergency button beneath the desk.
I struck it with my hand.
An alarm sounded.
Anthony flinched.
Isabelle pulled away.
Monroe shouted.
“Drop the gun!”
Anthony turned.
The weapon discharged.
Pain exploded through my shoulder.
I staggered backward.
Isabelle screamed.
Monroe moved forward, forcing Anthony to drop the gun while her backup entered the room.
The weapon slid across the floor.
Anthony fell to his knees.
An officer restrained him.
But I barely noticed.
Because Isabelle was running toward me.
“Dominic!”
She dropped beside me.
Her hands touched my face.
“Oh, God.”
I looked at her.
She was real.
Warm.
Breathing.
I reached for her.
“Hi, baby.”
She began crying.
I laughed through the pain.
“Missed you.”
She pressed her forehead against mine.
“I thought you'd never find me.”
I closed my eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“I should've known.”
“Dominic—”
“I should've seen it.”
She touched my cheek.
“You were grieving.”
I couldn't stop crying.
“I buried you.”
Her expression broke.
“I know.”
“I told the girls you were gone.”
She sobbed.
“I know.”
I held her as tightly as my injured shoulder allowed.
“I thought I'd lost you.”
She whispered, “You found me.”
For a moment, nothing else mattered.
Then she pulled back.
Her face changed.
“Dominic, we have to get the records.”
I stared.
“What?”
“The chapel.”
I looked toward Monroe.
She was speaking into her radio.
Isabelle grabbed my hand.
“Anthony ordered the servers wiped. The original ledger is beneath the altar.”
“I know.”
She looked startled.
“How?”
“Donnelly.”
Her expression hardened.
“She finally talked.”
I nodded.
Isabelle looked toward the hallway.
“Then we have to hurry.”
I tried to stand.
Pain shot through my shoulder.
She pushed me down.
“No.”
I stared.
She looked furious.
“You are not running around with a gunshot wound.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“There she is.”
She began crying again.
Then she slapped my uninjured arm.
“Don't you dare joke.”
I caught her hand.
Kissed it.
“Okay.”
Monroe approached.
“Medical team is coming.”
Isabelle looked at her.
“Detective, the chapel has a hidden archive. Anthony planned to destroy it.”
“We know. Officers are securing the building.”
“There's something else.”
Monroe stopped.
“What?”
Isabelle looked at me.
Then back at her.
“The people held here weren't the only victims.”
My blood chilled.
“How many?” Monroe asked.
Isabelle swallowed.
“Dozens.”
Monroe went still.
“Where?”
“The records identify them.”
She closed her eyes.
“Some were moved to other facilities. Some were forced to work under false identities. Others disappeared after they tried to report what happened.”
Monroe immediately called for additional investigators.
I stared at Isabelle.
For fourteen months, she had been trapped in a hospital while Anthony used her children to control her.
Yet she had still been gathering evidence.
Still trying to help people.
Still fighting.
She looked at me.
“Dominic, the ledger has to reach the authorities.”
I nodded.
“It will.”
She searched my face.
“Promise me you won't take revenge.”
I looked toward Anthony.
He was being led down the corridor in handcuffs.
For twenty-one years, he had controlled my family's suffering.
My father.
My brother.
My wife.
My children.
Everything inside me wanted him to pay.
But Isabelle's hand was trembling in mine.
And I remembered Olivia.
Bring everybody home.
I looked back at my wife.
“I promise.”
She closed her eyes.
Relief moved across her face.
Then she whispered, “There's one more thing you need to know.”
My heart tightened.
“What?”
She looked toward the doorway.
“Vincent didn't just help Anthony.”
I stared.
“What did he do?”
Her voice broke.
“He tried to save me.”
I couldn't speak.
Isabelle continued.
“Three months ago, he found out Anthony planned to kill me. He started moving money and arranging an escape.”
I stared toward the hallway.
“Then why didn't he tell me?”
“Because Anthony had threatened the girls.”
I closed my eyes.
“He still let you suffer.”
“Yes.”
She squeezed my hand.
“And he has to answer for that.”
I looked at her.
She continued.
“But Dominic, he wasn't the one who ordered my death.”
I felt cold.
“Who did?”
Isabelle whispered, “Mrs. Donnelly.”
I stared.
My house manager.
The woman who had wanted immunity.
The woman who had surrendered Nora's necklace.
The woman who had raised Vincent.
Isabelle's eyes filled with tears.
“She told Anthony to kill me because I discovered what happened to your father.”
I looked toward Monroe.
She was already moving.
Then a voice crackled through her radio.
“Detective, we have a problem.”
Monroe stopped.
“Go ahead.”
“Donnelly escaped custody during the hospital evacuation.”
My stomach dropped.
The officer continued.
“We found her escort unconscious near the service entrance.”
I looked at Isabelle.
Her face went white.
Monroe demanded, “Any indication where she went?”
A pause.
Then the response came.
“Yes, ma'am.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“She stole a vehicle.”
“What vehicle?”
“An ambulance.”
Monroe looked at me.
The officer continued.
“We recovered a phone she left behind. Her last outgoing message was sent to a contact listed as Samuel Reed.”
Everything inside me stopped.
Samuel.
The guesthouse.
My daughters.
I grabbed my phone.
Called him.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Then a message appeared.
An unknown number.
A photograph.
Olivia.
Sophie.
Nora.
Sitting together on a sofa.
Mrs. Donnelly stood behind them.
Her hand rested on Nora's shoulder.
May you like
Beneath the photograph was a message.
You found your wife. Now come and earn your children.
