Chapter 14: The Ghosts of the Past

The moment we reached Dominic’s penthouse, I knew something was wrong.

The security system was armed, the doors were locked, and yet—the air inside felt off.

Dominic must have sensed it too. He pushed Thea into my arms and motioned for his security team to check the rooms. Within seconds, his men were clearing the space, weapons drawn.

Dominic’s eyes were sharp, scanning every shadow. “Stay here.”

I ignored him. “Like hell I will.”

I set Thea down carefully on the couch and followed Dominic as he moved deeper into the penthouse. Every muscle in my body was tight, adrenaline still pumping from the warehouse ambush.

And then—I saw it.

The study door was open.

Dominic stilled. The tension in his shoulders was unreadable, but I caught the brief flicker of emotion in his eyes.

Recognition.

He knew who had been here.

I slipped past him and pushed the door open fully. The room was dimly lit, the faint scent of cigars lingering in the air. A single envelope sat on Dominic’s desk.

My stomach twisted.

Dominic stepped forward, jaw clenched, and picked up the envelope. He turned it over in his hands before carefully pulling out the folded paper inside.

As his eyes skimmed the message, his expression darkened into something lethal.

I reached for the note. “What does it say?”

His fingers tightened around the paper.

“I warned you to stop digging.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

The Council.

Dominic exhaled slowly. “They were here. In my home.” His voice was quiet, but beneath it, there was something terrifying—a controlled rage, cold and unshakable.

I swallowed. “What else?”

Dominic’s gaze met mine. “They want to meet.”

****

The next night, we arrived at a high-rise hotel in the heart of the city. It was one of those exclusive, members-only places—so discreet it didn’t even have a name.

Dominic and I stepped into the dimly lit lounge, where the Council had chosen to meet.

Nathaniel Crowe was already waiting for us.

The bastard was seated in a leather chair, his fingers lazily swirling the whiskey in his glass. The smirk on his face made my skin crawl.

Dominic didn’t waste time. “Talk.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “Impatient, as always.” He leaned back. “I told you, Caldwell. You’re playing with fire. And your little journalist here? She’s gasoline.”

I stiffened.

Dominic’s voice was ice. “If you had something to say, you would’ve said it already.”

Nathaniel tilted his head. “Fair enough.” He set down his glass and folded his hands together.

“Let’s make a deal.”

I narrowed my eyes. “A deal?”

Nathaniel’s smile was slow. Calculated.

“Give us the Sinclair case files.” His eyes flickered to Dominic. “The ones your father stole. And in return?” His smirk deepened. “We let you and your lovely fiancée live.”

My blood ran cold.

Dominic didn’t blink. “You think I have them?”

Nathaniel chuckled. “Oh, I know you do. And I know exactly what’s in them.”

I felt the shift in the air. The change in Dominic’s breathing.

My heart pounded.

“What’s in those files?” I demanded.

Nathaniel’s gaze never left Dominic.

“Go on, Caldwell. Tell her.”

Dominic’s jaw tightened. He turned to me, but I already knew—I saw it in his eyes.

He had been hiding something.

Something huge.

Nathaniel smirked. “Or better yet, I’ll tell her myself.” He leaned forward.

“Elena… your mother wasn’t just murdered.” His voice was slow, deliberate.

“She was executed.”

The air vanished from my lungs.

“No.” I shook my head. “You’re lying.”

Nathaniel sighed dramatically. “I wish I was. But the Sinclair files? They have the evidence.”

My chest was tight. My pulse roared in my ears.

I turned to Dominic, my voice barely above a whisper. “Did you know?”

He didn’t answer right away. And in that silence—I knew.

I staggered back. “You knew.”

“Elena—”

“You knew the truth about my mother and never told me?” My voice cracked.

Nathaniel was enjoying every second of this. “Oh, sweetheart. You didn’t think Dominic was playing this game for love, did you?”

I turned on Dominic, fury clawing up my throat. “Tell me he’s wrong.”

Dominic’s face was unreadable. “I was going to tell you.”

“But you didn’t.”

Something shattered inside me.

Nathaniel smirked. “Well. This has been entertaining.” He stood, straightening his suit. “I’ll give you both a few days to decide. Give us the files, and you walk away alive. Keep them, and…” His eyes gleamed. “Well, let’s just say, you won’t like the consequences.”

Then—he was gone.

Leaving me alone with a man I wasn’t sure I could trust anymore.

The Breaking Point

The car ride back to the penthouse was silent.

When we arrived, I didn’t wait. I stormed into Dominic’s office, slamming the door behind me.

“Where are the files?”

“Elena—”

“Where. Are. The. Files?”

His jaw flexed. “They’re locked away.”

“Show me.”

His lips parted like he wanted to argue, but then, he turned and unlocked a hidden safe behind one of the bookshelves.

He pulled out a thick, worn file and handed it to me.

I hesitated for only a second before opening it.

And what I saw made my stomach drop.

Photographs. Documents.

Reports of my mother’s execution.

A signed order.

A name at the bottom of the page.

George Sinclair.

My father.

My hands trembled.

My father… had my mother killed.

Dominic’s voice was quiet. “Now you understand.”

I pressed a hand to my mouth, bile rising in my throat.

Everything I thought I knew… was a lie.

The weight of betrayal crushed me.

And suddenly—I didn’t know who to trust anymore.

I turned to Dominic, my voice hoarse.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyes darkened. “Because I knew what it would do to you.”

Anger flared through me. “So you decided for me?”

Dominic stepped closer. “Elena, we have to be careful. If the Council finds out we’re turning against them—”

I yanked away. “They already know.”

Silence.

I exhaled shakily. “I need time.”

“Elena—”

I shook my head. “I need time.”

Then, without another word, I turned and walked away.

But as I left his office, one thought burned in my mind.

If my father could do this…

What else was he hiding?