Chapter 8 - WHAT WAS HIDDEN INSIDE GRACE
Grace stared at her mother as if she had become a stranger.
“Inside my arm?”
Helen nodded.
“No.”
Grace pushed up her sleeve.
The scar looked ordinary.
Tiny.
Faded.
“You told me I fell.”
“Daniel told you that.”
“And you let me believe it?”
“I was terrified.”
Dominic spoke quietly.
“What did he implant?”
Helen shook her head.
“I never saw it.”
“Why Grace?”
“Because Daniel said no one would search his child.”
Grace laughed bitterly.
“That seems to have been his favorite strategy.”
The SUV sped toward an underground safehouse in Chicago.
Grace couldn't stop touching the scar.
Something had been inside her for twenty years.
Maybe still was.
A private doctor arrived.
Dr. Evelyn Park examined Grace's arm with a portable ultrasound.
Then she stopped.
“There is something.”
Grace's stomach turned.
“What?”
“Very small. Metallic.”
Dominic stood nearby.
“Can you remove it?”
Dr. Park looked at Grace.
“If she wants.”
Grace almost laughed.
“That's the first time anyone has asked what I want in three days.”
Dominic looked away.
Twenty minutes later, after local anesthetic, Dr. Park made a tiny incision.
Grace refused to look.
Dominic watched everything.
“Stop staring.”
“I'm making sure she doesn't hurt you.”
“She's a surgeon.”
“So?”
Dr. Park smiled.
“You two seem exhausting.”
“We aren't anything,” Grace said.
Dominic replied, “Agreed.”
Far too quickly.
Grace hated that she noticed.
Dr. Park used forceps.
Then dropped something onto sterile gauze.
A tiny metal capsule.
Marco opened it carefully.
Inside was a microfilm strip.
Grace stared.
“All this for that?”
Dominic held it beneath light.
“Thirty-year-old technology.”
“What does it contain?”
They digitized it.
Hundreds of pages appeared.
Transactions.
Names.
Dates.
Photographs.
Sterling.
Voss.
Judges.
Police.
Businesses.
Then a list of payments from the last two years.
Adrian Voss's organization was active.
And someone in Dominic's inner circle had been receiving money.
Marco zoomed in.
“Account numbers only.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Trace them.”
Grace saw one document labeled MARGARET.
She clicked it.
Dominic grabbed her hand.
“Wait.”
Grace looked at him.
“We need truth.”
He slowly released her.
The file contained letters.
Love letters.
Margaret to Adrian.
Adrian to Margaret.
Thirty years old.
Dominic read only the first few lines before walking away.
Grace closed the file.
“You don't have to read them.”
“They may matter.”
“They can matter tomorrow.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You pity me?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I think you're allowed to not be Dominic DeLuca for five minutes.”
His expression became strange.
“Who would I be?”
“Someone who just found out his family lied to him.”
He sat.
Grace joined him.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Dominic asked, “Did your father ever teach you to play chess?”
Grace blinked.
“Yes.”
“He taught me once.”
Her head snapped toward him.
“What?”
“I was nine.”
“You met him?”
“I didn't know it was him.”
Dominic stared at the floor.
“My father had a man working at one of our warehouses. Quiet. Wore glasses. He sat with me while I waited for Antonio.”
Grace's throat tightened.
“That sounds like Dad.”
“He beat me in seven moves.”
Grace smiled despite herself.
“That definitely sounds like Dad.”
Dominic looked at her.
“He told me powerful men lose because they believe everyone else is afraid to move.”
Grace's eyes filled.
“He used to say that.”
Something changed between them.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Recognition.
Their fathers' secrets had tied them together long before either knew.
Marco returned.
“We traced one account.”
Dominic stood.
“Who?”
Marco looked uncomfortable.
“Frankie.”
Dominic froze.
Grace had heard the name.
Frank DeLuca.
Dominic's cousin.
His father's sister's son.
Head of financial operations.
One of the few men Dominic trusted completely.
“You're sure?”
“The payments go through three shells, but yes.”
“How much?”
“Two point four million.”
Dominic's eyes went empty.
“Where is he?”
“Missing.”
Grace whispered, “There's your traitor.”
Dominic's phone rang.
Frankie's name appeared.
Everyone stared.
Dominic answered.
“Where are you?”
Frankie's voice shook.
“I messed up.”
Dominic said nothing.
“They have my daughter.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“What?”
“They took Sofia six weeks ago.”
Grace looked at Marco.
He hadn't known.
Frankie continued.
“They said she'd die if I didn't give them information.”
“You should've come to me.”
“I was ashamed.”
“You sold my mother's location.”
“I gave them the gala seating plan. They promised nobody would get hurt.”
Dominic's voice became dangerously quiet.
“And Grace's hospital room?”
Frankie started crying.
“Yes.”
Grace closed her eyes.
Dominic looked toward her.
He wanted to kill his cousin.
She could see it.
Then Frankie whispered.
“They have Sofia at the old Lakeside packing plant.”
Marco immediately began searching.
“I can give you everything.”
“Start.”
“Adrian isn't running this alone.”
“Who is?”
Frankie hesitated.
Then Grace heard a gunshot through the phone.
Frankie screamed.
The call cut.
Dominic grabbed his coat.
“We move.”
Grace stood.
“No.”
He turned.
“You stay.”
“No.”
“This isn't an argument.”
“You're right.”
Grace picked up the printed account list.
“Because I'm going.”
“Grace.”
“Frankie sold my location. Someone tried to poison me because of it. His daughter is being held by the same people.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“And that is exactly why you're not going.”
Grace looked directly at him.
“You told me my father once said powerful men lose because they think everyone else is afraid to move.”
Dominic stared.
Grace walked past him.
“So move.”
The Lakeside packing plant had been abandoned for twelve years.
Dominic's team entered from three sides.
Grace stayed in the armored command vehicle, which she technically counted as obeying.
Until she heard the explosion.
“Dominic?”
No answer.
“Marco?”
Static.
Then a young girl's scream came through the tactical radio.
Grace looked toward the plant.
One guard tried stopping her.
She ran anyway.
Inside, smoke filled the corridors.
Grace followed the scream.
“Sofia!”
A door slammed.
She found a girl tied to a chair.
Fourteen.
Terrified.
Grace rushed toward her.
“It’s okay.”
The girl shook her head violently.
“No!”
Grace stopped.
“What?”
Sofia stared behind Grace.
Grace slowly turned.
An old man stood in the doorway.
Silver hair.
Walking cane.
He looked at her with eyes she had seen in photographs.
Adrian Voss.
“Daniel's daughter,” he said.
Grace backed away.
“Where's Margaret?”
“Safe.”
“Dominic?”
Adrian smiled.
“Very much his mother's son.”
Grace saw a gun beneath his coat.
“You planted the bomb.”
“No.”
“You ordered the attacks.”
“Some.”
“What do you want from me?”
Adrian looked almost sad.
“To meet you.”
“You tried to kill me.”
“No, Grace.”
He stepped closer.
“Every attack was designed to move you exactly where I needed you.”
She froze.
“The hotel?”
“To place you near Dominic.”
“The hospital?”
“To make him protect you.”
“The sniper?”
“To move everyone.”
Grace felt sick.
“You manipulated all of this.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian's eyes softened.
“Because your father told me Dominic would never trust me.”
Grace stared.
“But he might trust you.”
A shadow moved behind Adrian.
Dominic.
Gun raised.
Adrian turned.
For the first time, father and possible son stood face-to-face.
“Hello, Dominic.”
Dominic aimed at his chest.
“Where is my mother?”
Adrian smiled.
“Behind you.”
Dominic turned.
Margaret stood at the end of the corridor.
Not in her wheelchair.
Standing.
Supported by a cane.
Dominic's gun lowered.
“Mom?”
Grace stared.
Margaret had been paralyzed for six years.
Yet she was standing.
Margaret looked at Dominic with tears in her eyes.
“There's something I never told you.”
Dominic whispered.
“What?”
Margaret took one painful step.
“Your father didn't cause my paralysis.”
May you like
She looked at Adrian.
“I did.”
