Chapter 8 - THE ENGAGEMENT RING CAME OFF
I removed the ring the next morning.
Not hers.
Mine.
Arya had given me a plain platinum band when we got engaged.
She joked that if she had to advertise herself as unavailable, so did I.
For four years, I wore it.
Even in surgery, a nurse had taped it to my chart.
Now I placed it inside a drawer.
Tessa noticed.
She said nothing.
That was one of the reasons I trusted her.
She knew when silence wasn’t avoidance.
By noon, Sam had contacted federal investigators.
Harbor contracts crossed state lines.
Shell corporations.
Wire transfers.
Corporate fraud.
Potential conspiracy surrounding the shooting.
The case no longer belonged to family attorneys and private suspicions.
“Do we arrest them now?” Michael asked.
Sam shook his head.
“We don’t arrest anyone.”
“You know what I mean.”
“They want more.”
I did too.
Dominic controlled too many people.
If we moved early, records disappeared.
Witnesses became unavailable.
I had grown up around men who understood pressure.
Now we were going to apply it legally.
The first step was the capacity hearing.
Arya expected me to appear by video.
Instead, I entered the courthouse in person.
Wheelchair.
Dark suit.
No blanket across my legs.
No attempt to hide anything.
The courtroom went quiet.
Dominic sat beside Arya.
His face changed when he saw me.
Good.
Michael walked behind me.
Sam beside me.
Tessa did not come.
“This is family business,” she had said.
It bothered me more than it should have.
The independent physician testified first.
No cognitive impairment.
No loss of executive function.
No medical basis for conservatorship.
Then Nathan testified that stopping therapy was contrary to my care plan.
Dr. Voss’s attorney objected repeatedly.
It didn’t matter.
The judge denied Arya’s petition in less than forty minutes.
Then she did something Arya hadn’t expected.
She referred the forged documents to prosecutors.
Outside, reporters gathered.
Dominic leaned near my chair.
“You’re making this uglier than it needs to be.”
I looked up.
“You had me shot.”
His face didn’t move.
Excellent training.
Arya’s did.
Only for half a second.
But Sam saw it.
So did Michael.
Dominic smiled.
“You’re emotional.”
I laughed.
“You should find new lines. Arya already used that one.”
He walked away.
Arya remained.
Her engagement ring still hung around her neck.
“Vincent.”
I said nothing.
She crouched so our eyes were level.
“This has gotten out of control.”
“No.”
I touched the chain lightly.
“This was always under control.”
Her breathing changed.
“Yours.”
She stood.
For the first time, fear reached her eyes.
“Be careful.”
“Is that concern?”
“You don’t know everything.”
“Then educate me.”
She looked toward Dominic.
He was already at the courthouse doors.
Then she whispered:
“Dominic wasn’t the one who chose the shooter.”
My pulse slowed.
“Who did?”
She stared at me.
“I can’t tell you here.”
“Then tell investigators.”
“If I do, I’m dead.”
Before I could answer, she walked away.
That night, an envelope arrived at my house.
No return address.
Inside was a photograph from the engagement party two years earlier.
Arya and me dancing.
Dominic laughing in the background.
Someone else stood near the bar.
A man I had not seen in twelve years.
My uncle Renato.
May you like
On the back, Arya had written:
ASK HIM WHY YOUR FATHER REALLY DIED.
