Chapter 9 - DOMINIC RAN
Dominic disappeared the same night Marco left the estate.
His apartment was empty.
Closet half-cleared.
Passport gone.
That made everyone assume guilt.
Still not proof of every accusation.
Then he made a mistake.
He used an old Castalano company fuel card in Pennsylvania.
The alert went to finance.
Finance now reported directly to outside counsel.
Authorities found him the next day.
No gunfight.
No dramatic chase.
A hotel parking lot.
He was taken into custody on charges connected to financial misconduct and obstruction that investigators had developed.
Later, through counsel, Dominic began cooperating.
He admitted disabling estate cameras.
Admitted helping Marco monitor me.
Admitted removing Noah’s laptop from Meridian after Noah died.
“How?” I asked.
Renzo looked uncomfortable.
Dominic had a contact in building security.
He retrieved company property before the formal inventory.
Then turned it over to Marco.
He claimed he never knew what Marco planned to do with Noah before the crash.
Maybe true.
Maybe self-protection.
Investigators would decide what evidence supported.
Then Dominic admitted something else.
Marco had become frightened when I was hired at the estate.
Why?
Because placing me there had been a temporary surveillance decision.
Marco assumed I would quit within months.
I didn’t.
I stayed five years.
Then I had Mia.
Then Noah died.
Then I became nearly invisible inside the household system.
Exactly where Marco wanted me.
Close enough to monitor.
Too low-ranking to ask questions.
Until Mia entered the forbidden study.
The irony was almost absurd.
Then Dominic said:
“Marco wanted the drive back before Mr. Castalano ever knew it existed.”
Obviously.
“What was he planning?”
To destroy Noah’s records.
Move the remaining diverted funds.
Exit the country through legitimate business travel.
Total money still under his control:
Approximately $12 million.
More than the original ledger because the scheme continued after Noah died.
Vincent’s attorney and financial team froze access where legally possible.
Banks were notified.
Authorities took over.
Then Marco’s lawyer called.
He wanted to negotiate.
Vincent’s response:
“With prosecutors, not me.”
Good.
I was learning Vincent had spent years cultivating a terrifying reputation and now understood it was almost useless for cleaning up the damage that reputation enabled.
Then Marco sent one message directly to me.
Nobody knew how he got my new number.
One sentence:
NOAH MADE HIS CHOICE.
I stared at it.
Renzo wanted the phone.
I gave it to him.
Then blocked the number after evidence preservation.
No reply.
No dramatic threat.
No satisfaction.
But the message told me something.
Marco still believed Noah was responsible for what happened to him.
That was how men like Marco survived themselves.
Then Mia looked at my face.
“Mad face?”
I almost laughed.
“No, baby.”
She copied my expression anyway.
Apparently Vincent was no longer her only subject.
Then she said:
“Daddy made that face.”
I froze.
“When?”
“In picture.”
She ran toward her bag.
Pulled out a folded photograph I had never seen.
Noah holding baby Mia.
Behind him, reflected in a window, stood another man.
May you like
Marco.
The photograph had been taken at Mia’s first birthday party.
