Chapter 7 - THE TRUTH BEHIND DOMINIC'S SCAR
Dominic did not believe me.
Not at first.
“My mother would never help Matteo.”
“I’m showing you her name.”
“That doesn’t prove what you think it proves.”
“Then tell me what it proves.”
He walked away.
I followed.
“Dominic.”
Nothing.
“Dominic.”
Still nothing.
I grabbed his sleeve.
He stopped.
For one second, his eyes dropped to my hand.
Nobody grabbed Dominic Vale.
Apparently I had missed that memo.
His voice lowered.
“My mother died believing the attack was her fault.”
“Why?”
“She changed the security schedule that night.”
There it was.
Lucia had given Matteo access.
But maybe without knowing why.
Dominic sat in the dark library and told me the rest.
Lucia Vale had wanted her son out of his father’s criminal world.
Matteo promised to arrange a private meeting with attorneys who could separate Dominic’s legitimate businesses from the family organization.
Lucia moved security so nobody would know.
Instead, Matteo sent men into Montrose.
“They were supposed to take financial records,” Dominic said.
“And you?”
“I arrived unexpectedly.”
His fingers touched his scar.
“They panicked.”
I finally understood why he hated people staring at it.
The scar was not merely an injury.
It was betrayal written across his face.
“My mother blamed herself,” he continued. “She died a year later.”
I sat beside him.
Not touching.
Just there.
“What did the three women say?”
His head turned.
“What?”
“The women who refused to meet you.”
He looked annoyed.
“Who told you?”
“Frank has no ability to keep secrets.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Dominic.”
He stared at the fireplace.
“Nothing important.”
“Then tell me.”
“One said she couldn’t marry a man who looked violent.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Elena.”
“Another?”
He hesitated.
“She said she couldn’t wake up beside this face.”
Anger hit me with ridiculous force.
I turned toward him.
“Look at me.”
He did.
His scar ran from his temple down his cheek.
Raised in places.
Pale in others.
I had seen it dozens of times now.
It was simply part of him.
“Your face isn’t frightening.”
“You thought I might kill you when you arrived.”
“Because you were a giant stranger sitting silently in a kitchen I thought was empty.”
That almost made him smile.
I continued:
“The scar had nothing to do with it.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
The room became very quiet.
Then he asked:
“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
“I am sometimes.”
That surprised him.
“But fear isn’t the only thing I feel.”
His expression changed.
I immediately regretted my mouth.
“What else do you feel?”
“Hungry.”
“Elena.”
“Very hungry.”
I stood.
He caught my wrist gently.
Not controlling.
Just stopping me.
My pulse jumped.
Before either of us could make the situation more complicated, Julian entered.
He looked pale.
“We found who altered Elena’s work order.”
Dominic released me.
“Who?”
Julian placed a photograph on the table.
The person entering my agency at midnight was no longer wearing a hat.
May you like
It was Matteo Russo.
And he had used a key card registered to Dominic’s private office.
