Chapter 10: Shadows of the Past

The silence stretched between us, thick with something unspoken.

Dominic’s jaw was tense, his fingers gripping the phone so tightly I thought he might crush it. His eyes—dark, intense, unreadable—were locked on mine.

I forced myself to breathe. “Who was she last seen with, Dominic?”

He hesitated.

Then— “Julian Hale.”

The name hit me like a slap.

I swayed slightly, gripping the edge of his desk. “That’s not possible.”

Julian Hale was a ghost from my past. A name I hadn’t heard in years.

A man I had once trusted—once loved.

He had been my closest friend in college. The golden boy with an easy smile and a mind sharp enough to cut through steel. We had been inseparable—until he vanished without a word, leaving behind only whispers of scandal and betrayal.

And now, my sister had disappeared, last seen with him?

My stomach twisted.

“What the hell does Julian have to do with this?”

Dominic exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “That’s what I intend to find out.”

I shook my head. “No. I intend to find out.”

His eyes flashed. “Sinclair—”

I cut him off. “You knew Thea was missing. You knew she was supposed to be your wife. And yet, you didn’t tell me.” My voice was ice. “So forgive me if I don’t trust you to handle this alone.”

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “Trust me or not, you need me.”

I hated that he was right.

But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

I crossed my arms. “Fine. Then let’s start with the obvious—where the hell is Julian Hale now?”

Dominic’s expression darkened. “That’s the problem.”

My pulse quickened.

“He’s missing too.”

****

We didn’t waste time.

Thirty minutes later, we were standing in front of a high-end apartment complex on the Upper East Side. It was sleek, modern, and eerily silent for a building that housed some of New York’s wealthiest residents.

Dominic’s security team had already swept the place. The door to Julian’s penthouse was unlocked.

We stepped inside.

The air was stale, like no one had been there for days. The living room was immaculate—too clean.

Like someone had wiped it down.

Dominic prowled through the space, his gaze sharp. “Something’s off.”

I nodded. “Yeah. This place doesn’t look lived in. It looks… staged.”

We moved deeper inside. The kitchen was spotless, the fridge nearly empty except for a few bottles of water and expensive liquor. The bedroom—minimalist, barely personal. No framed photos, no scattered clothes.

It was like Julian had vanished into thin air.

And then, in the study, we found it.

A single note.

Slipped under a paperweight on the desk.

I picked it up, my fingers trembling slightly as I read the message.

You’re asking the wrong questions.

Thea didn’t run.

She was taken.

I felt the breath leave my lungs.

Dominic read over my shoulder, his expression turning to steel.

“Taken by who?” I whispered.

Neither of us had an answer.

****

We barely made it down to the parking garage before everything went to hell.

The moment we stepped out of the elevator, I felt it.

A shift in the air.

A presence.

Then—

Bang.

A gunshot shattered the silence.

Dominic shoved me behind him, his body pressing mine against the concrete wall as another bullet ricocheted off a parked car.

“Move!” he ordered.

I didn’t argue. We darted between vehicles, keeping low. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

Who the hell was shooting at us?

Dominic reached for the gun holstered beneath his jacket and returned fire. The shots echoed through the garage. Tires screeched as a black SUV peeled out of a parking spot, speeding toward the exit.

“Get the plate number!” Dominic barked.

I squinted through the dim lighting, barely catching the first few digits before the vehicle disappeared.

We were left standing in the eerie silence, the acrid scent of gunpowder lingering in the air.

I turned to Dominic, breathless. “They were waiting for us.”

His jaw clenched. “Someone doesn’t want us asking questions.”

I swallowed hard. “Then we must be getting close.”

****

We drove back to Dominic’s penthouse in silence.

I stared out the window, my mind racing. Thea hadn’t run. She had been taken. And Julian—was he involved? Or had he disappeared trying to protect her?

Too many questions. Not enough answers.

By the time we arrived at Dominic’s place, I felt the exhaustion settling into my bones. But the moment we stepped inside, my phone buzzed.

A blocked number.

I hesitated. Then answered.

“Elena Sinclair.”

A voice I hadn’t heard in years filled my ears.

Low. Smooth. Unmistakable.

“Hello, trouble.”

My breath hitched.

“Julian.”

Dominic’s head snapped toward me.

I gripped the phone tighter. “Where the hell are you?”

A chuckle. “Still fiery, I see.” A pause. Then, voice darker— “You need to stop looking for Thea, Elena.”

My blood ran cold.

“What?”

“Walk away. Forget this ever happened.”

Rage flared through me. “Like hell I will.”

Another pause. Then—

“Then you’ll end up just like her.”

The line went dead.

I lowered the phone slowly, my hand shaking.

Dominic’s voice was low, deadly. “What did he say?”

I turned to him, my heart pounding.

“He told me to stop looking for Thea.” I swallowed. “Or I’d end up just like her.”

Dominic’s eyes burned with something dark. “Then we’re closer than I thought.”

A chill ran down my spine.

Because if Julian was warning me away…

It meant we were walking straight into the lion’s den.

****

The room was heavy with silence.

Then—another buzz.

A text message.

I glanced at my phone. My pulse spiked.

It was from Julian.

Meet me. Alone. Midnight. The docks.

Dominic saw the message over my shoulder.

His grip on my wrist was firm, his voice edged with steel.

“You’re not going alone.”

I met his gaze.

“Try and stop me.”