"Neither did Gregory's father."
Dominic opened another file.
"Cross developed a system called the Black Ledger. It was not a single book. It was a network of accounts, shell companies, insurance policies, and trusts designed to move money without leaving a visible trail."
Rebecca remembered the ledger she had found.
"Why would my father have been involved?"
"Thomas Sterling was one of the few people who understood the maritime side of Cross's operation. He controlled the terminals through which some of the money moved."
"But my father wasn't corrupt."
"I don't believe he was."
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
"I believe he discovered what Cross was doing and attempted to stop it."
Rebecca looked down at the photograph.
"What happened to Cross?"
"He died in a fire at a private estate twelve years ago. The official report stated that he had been alone in the building."
"Was he?"
"No."
Dominic slid another photograph across the desk.
This one showed a younger Dominic standing beside a man with dark hair and a stern expression.
Rebecca recognized him immediately.
Gregory Vance's father.
"That is my father," Dominic said. "And the man beside him is Adrian Cross."
Rebecca stared at the photograph.
"Why were you there?"
"I wasn't. The photograph was taken three years before I was born."
She looked up.
"Then who is the child?"
Dominic's expression became unreadable.
"My older brother."
Rebecca's breath caught.
"You have a brother?"
"Had."
The word was quiet.
Dominic turned away.
"His name was Alexander. He died when I was nineteen."
Rebecca did not speak.
She had seen grief in Dominic's eyes before. She had mistaken it for anger.
Now she understood that the man standing before her had spent years carrying a loss that had never been resolved.
"Was his death connected to Adrian Cross?"
Dominic looked back at her.
"Yes."
The silence stretched.
Then he said, "And I believe Gregory Vance knows exactly what happened to him."
Chapter 7: The Invitation of the Damned
By noon, the news had spread through the city.
Gregory Vance had been detained in the lobby of the Grand Elysian.
A woman had accused him of financial fraud.
Dominic Hale had intervened.
The story was already being rewritten by people who had never met Rebecca, never seen the bruises on her wrist, and never understood the quiet terror of a woman trying to escape a man who believed he owned her.
The financial channels called it a corporate dispute.
The gossip columns called it a scandal.
Gregory's lawyers called it a misunderstanding.
Rebecca called it the beginning.
She stood in Dominic's study, reading a report Marcus had prepared.
"Gregory has been released," Marcus said.
Rebecca looked up.
"Already?"
"His attorneys secured a temporary injunction. The authorities are treating the incident as a domestic matter."
Dominic's expression was cold.
"Of course they are."
Rebecca closed the report.
"Then we stop treating it as one."
Dominic turned toward her.
"What do you mean?"
"We expose the financial fraud. We show the court that Gregory used my father's trust to acquire assets illegally. We make it impossible for him to hide behind his lawyers."
Marcus nodded.
"The evidence is strong, but there is one problem."
"What?"
"The original ledger is incomplete."
Rebecca frowned.
"There were more pages?"
"Yes. The section containing the account transfers from the year of your father's death is missing."
Dominic looked at her.
"Do you know where it is?"
Rebecca closed her eyes.
She remembered Gregory's study. The hidden safe. The documents she had found.
And another object.
A small black envelope tucked beneath the false bottom of the drawer.
She had not opened it.
"I think I know."
Dominic stepped closer.
"What is it?"
"A letter."
"From whom?"
"I don't know."
Rebecca looked at Marcus.
"I left it in Gregory's penthouse."
Dominic's expression hardened.
"Then we need to retrieve it."
Before Marcus could respond, the secure telephone on the desk rang.
Dominic answered.
"Speak."
A pause.
His expression changed.
"Send it through."
He ended the call.
Marcus looked at him.
"Sir?"
Dominic opened an encrypted message.
A photograph appeared on the screen.
A black envelope.
The same envelope Rebecca had left behind.
Beneath it was a handwritten message.
A dinner invitation. Eight o'clock. The Vance residence.
Rebecca felt the blood drain from her face.
Dominic stared at the screen.
"He wants you back."
"No," Rebecca whispered.
"He wants something."
She stepped closer to the desk.
The message contained a second line.
Come alone, Rebecca. Or the next person who dies will be someone you love.
Dominic's eyes went dark.
"He's making a mistake."
Rebecca looked at him.
"Don't."
Dominic turned.
"Don't what?"
"Don't decide that you can solve this by destroying him before I have a chance to understand what he knows."
His jaw tightened.
"Rebecca, he threatened you."
"I know."
"He threatened someone you love."
"I know."
Dominic stepped toward her.
"And you want to walk into his house?"
Rebecca lifted her chin.
"I want to know why my father died."
For a long moment, Dominic said nothing.
Then Marcus spoke.
"Sir, there may be another way."
Dominic looked at him.
Marcus brought up a map of the Vance estate.
"Gregory is hosting a private dinner tonight. The guest list includes several members of the board, two former judges, and a representative from the Sterling Trust."
Rebecca stared at the screen.
"Who?"
Marcus enlarged the image.
A name appeared.
Eleanor Sterling.
Rebecca's aunt.
Her father's younger sister.
The woman who had attended the funeral and told Rebecca that Thomas's death was a tragedy no one could have prevented.
The woman who had advised Rebecca to trust Gregory.
Rebecca felt something inside her collapse.
"She knew."
Dominic studied her face.
"We don't know that yet."
Rebecca turned away.
"I want to go."
Dominic's voice was firm.
"Then you won't go alone."
Chapter 8: The Dance of Wolves
The Vance residence stood on a hill overlooking the eastern harbor.
It was an old mansion of white stone and black iron, its windows glowing beneath the autumn night. The gardens were immaculate, the fountains silent, the entrance lined with black luxury vehicles.
Rebecca had once believed the house was beautiful.
Now it looked like a mausoleum.
Dominic's car stopped before the entrance.
He turned toward her.
"Remember the plan."
Rebecca adjusted the diamond necklace Marcus had provided.
"I enter. I speak to Gregory. I find the envelope."
"And if anything goes wrong?"
"I leave."
Dominic studied her.
"Say it again."
Rebecca frowned.
"What?"
"If anything goes wrong, you leave."
She looked into his eyes.
"I leave."
He nodded.
The door opened.
Rebecca stepped into the night.
She wore a black evening gown, its elegant lines concealing the small communication device Marcus had placed beneath her hair. Dominic had insisted on providing security, but she had refused to let the guards enter the mansion with her.
The plan depended on Gregory believing she was alone.
At the top of the steps, Gregory waited.