Chapter 4 - The Night Claire Disappeared
By evening, the story had already reached Baltimore society.
Not the real story.
Charles's version.
According to carefully placed rumors, Claire Whitmore had suffered an emotional breakdown after a family disagreement.
She had taken confidential corporate documents.
She had disappeared with Dominic Vale.
And Whitmore Freight & Marine was now evaluating “internal irregularities” caused by an unnamed employee.
Claire read the statement twice.
Then set her phone down.
Dominic watched from across the library.
“What?”
“My father has spent fifteen years pretending I don't matter.”
She looked at him.
“Now he's telling everyone I'm powerful enough to destroy his company.”
“Fear changes people's definition of importance.”
Claire leaned back.
“I should be furious.”
“You are.”
“I mostly feel tired.”
Dominic understood tiredness.
He had inherited an empire at twenty-nine after his father died.
For years, every relative, rival, federal investigator, and ambitious lieutenant had expected him to fail.
His response had been simple.
He didn't.
But looking at Claire, he realized there were different kinds of survival.
Dominic's enemies attacked from outside.
Claire's had sat beside her at Christmas.
That night, Richard requested to speak with them.
His hospital room was guarded.
His arm was bandaged.
His face looked pale.
Claire stood beside his bed.
“Who shot you?”
“I don't know.”
“Who knew we were meeting?”
“Charles.”
Dominic's expression sharpened.
“You told him?”
“No. He saw a message.”
Richard closed his eyes.
“Rebecca might have seen it too.”
Claire felt sick.
“What else did my mother know?”
Richard hesitated.
“A lot.”
“Tell me everything.”
He looked at her.
“Your mother didn't just find Victor's laundering operation.”
“What else?”
“She found that someone was stealing from Whitmore Freight.”
“Rebecca?”
“Rebecca and Victor.”
“How much?”
“Millions over years.”
Claire stared.
“But Rebecca wasn't married to my father yet.”
“She worked for an investment consulting firm Whitmore used.”
Claire remembered Rebecca always telling people she met Charles “through friends.”
Another lie.
“Your mother planned to expose them.”
“Yes.”
“And then she died.”
Richard nodded.
“Why did Charles marry Rebecca?”
Richard looked away.
“I don't know.”
“Don't lie to me again.”
His eyes filled with shame.
“After Anne died, Whitmore Freight nearly collapsed. Victor's network controlled several docks. Rebecca brought investors.”
“She saved the company.”
“On paper.”
Claire understood.
“She bought my father's trust.”
“Yes.”
“And you helped him hide my shares.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Richard breathed slowly.
“Because Rebecca said if ownership transferred to a fifteen-year-old beneficiary, lenders would panic.”
“That makes no legal sense.”
“No.”
“You knew that.”
“Yes.”
Claire stepped away from the bed.
Dominic remained silent.
Richard whispered, “I was afraid.”
Claire turned.
“So was I.”
That hurt him.
Good.
Perhaps it needed to.
“There's something else,” Richard said.
Claire waited.
“Anne created a contingency.”
“What kind?”
“If anything happened to her, her shares temporarily entered a protective trust.”
Claire frowned.
“I thought they passed to me.”
“They do. But technically, until you claim them, voting authority belongs to a trustee.”
“Who?”
Richard looked toward Dominic.
“Antonio Vale.”
Dominic went completely still.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Why would Anne choose him?”
“Because by then she believed Antonio was the only man powerful enough to stop Victor.”
Dominic said nothing for several seconds.
“Antonio died eight years ago.”
Richard nodded.
“The trusteeship would transfer according to his estate plan.”
Claire looked at Dominic.
“To you?”
He didn't answer.
Richard did.
“Yes.”
Silence filled the room.
Claire felt suddenly trapped.
Her father stole her shares.
Her stepmother might have helped kill her mother.
And now the man whose house she was staying in may have inherited voting authority over nearly half the company that should belong to her.
Dominic spoke first.
“I didn't know.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“That's becoming a popular sentence.”
“I'll have my attorneys verify it.”
“You could control my shares.”
“I have no intention of doing that.”
“You run a criminal empire.”
“And your father runs a shipping company. Which one of us has lied to you more?”
Claire had no answer.
They returned to Dominic's estate under heavy security.
At midnight, Claire stood alone on the terrace.
Baltimore glowed beyond the trees.
Dominic joined her.
“You should sleep.”
“You should stop telling me that.”
“You should start doing it.”
She looked at him.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because my father promised Anne.”
“That cannot be the only reason.”
“No.”
Claire waited.
Dominic leaned against the stone railing.
“Yesterday, your father introduced everyone except you.”
“You noticed.”
“I notice disrespect.”
“Coming from a mafia boss, that's almost funny.”
“Organized crime depends heavily on manners.”
She laughed despite herself.
Then his expression became serious.
“I've met people who pretend to be powerful.”
Claire looked at him.
“Your father is one.”
“That isn't news.”
“You aren't.”
The words caught her off guard.
Dominic continued.
“You spent twelve years keeping a company alive while the people benefiting from your work pretended you were unnecessary.”
Claire looked away.
“That doesn't make me powerful.”
“Yes, it does.”
“No. It makes me useful.”
“There's a difference.”
“Not in my family.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“There should be.”
The quiet between them changed.
Not romantic exactly.
Not yet.
But something moved.
Recognition.
Claire's phone buzzed.
A message from Emily.
Please answer. I'm scared.
Claire called immediately.
Emily answered whispering.
“Claire?”
“What's wrong?”
“Dad and Mom are fighting.”
“That isn't unusual.”
“No. This is different.”
“What are they saying?”
“I heard Mom say you found Anne's files.”
Claire's blood turned cold.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Leave.”
“What?”
“Emily, go to Martha's cottage. Now.”
There was a sound behind Emily.
A door.
Then Rebecca's voice.
“Who are you talking to?”
The call ended.
Claire immediately moved.
“Dominic.”
He was already calling security.
Within six minutes, three vehicles left the estate.
They never reached the Whitmore house.
Halfway there, a delivery truck pulled across the road.
Dominic's driver slammed the brakes.
Another SUV struck them from behind.
Airbags exploded.
Claire screamed.
Dominic grabbed her.
“Down!”
Glass shattered.
Men appeared outside.
Vale security exchanged gunfire.
Dominic pulled Claire through the opposite door and toward a wooded embankment.
“Move.”
Claire's ears rang.
They reached the trees.
Then someone stepped from behind an oak.
Gun raised.
Dominic shoved Claire aside.
A shot cracked.
He staggered.
“Dominic!”
He remained standing.
Blood appeared along his shoulder.
The attacker aimed again.
Claire saw a fallen security guard's weapon in the grass.
She had never fired a gun.
She didn't think.
She grabbed it.
Raised it.
The attacker hesitated.
That was enough.
Dominic tackled him.
Within seconds, security arrived.
The man was restrained.
Dominic pressed one hand against his bleeding shoulder.
Claire ran to him.
“You're hurt.”
“It's a graze.”
“You were shot.”
“Technically.”
“Do not be annoying right now.”
His mouth almost smiled.
Then the captured attacker began laughing.
Dominic turned.
“Who sent you?”
The man said nothing.
Claire looked at him.
She recognized him.
Her stomach dropped.
He had worked security at Whitmore Freight for nine years.
“Patrick?”
The man looked at her.
“Your father should've kept you in the storage room.”
Claire went cold.
Dominic stepped toward him.
“Charles sent you?”
Patrick laughed again.
“Charles doesn't even know what's happening.”
“Then Rebecca.”
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Claire saw it.
Dominic did too.
Then Patrick said, “You think Rebecca is the one you should fear?”
Claire stared.
“Who?”
He smiled through blood on his lip.
“You still don't understand why Anne died.”
Dominic grabbed his collar.
“Explain.”
Patrick looked directly at Claire.
“Your mother wasn't killed because she found Rebecca.”
Claire's heart pounded.
“She was killed because she found out who Rebecca worked for.”
“Who?”
Before Patrick could answer, his body jerked.
A tiny red mark appeared on his neck.
Dominic spun.
“Sniper!”
Security dragged them behind the vehicle.
Patrick collapsed.
Claire crawled toward him.
His eyes were already losing focus.
“Who?” she pleaded. “Who did Rebecca work for?”
Patrick's lips moved.
Claire lowered her ear.
One word escaped.
“Charles.”
May you like
Then he died.
---
