Chapter 65: Echoes from the Shadows

The old security tape played on the massive screen in Dominic’s study, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The room was dead silent except for the soft whir of the projector and the pounding of my heart. Dominic stood behind me, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his gaze glued to the screen. I sat at the edge of the leather couch, fingers clenched together, trying not to blink.

The footage was grainy, the timestamp barely legible—August 17th, 1999—the year before everything in my world fell apart.

My mother appeared first. Olivia Sinclair. Younger, but unmistakably her. Dressed in a soft blue coat, her dark hair pulled back in an elegant twist. She looked nervous. Anxious. She kept glancing over her shoulder as if expecting to be followed.

Then he appeared.

Victor Caldwell.

Tall, commanding, and heartbreakingly handsome, even in the pixelated footage. He walked toward her, and the second their hands touched, the air in the room changed.

My breath hitched.

There was no denying it—the love between them was real. Tangible, even through the static of a two-decade-old recording. They weren’t just meeting. They were saying goodbye.

“They were planning to run,” Dominic murmured, stepping closer behind me. “This was the night before she disappeared for good.”

“I thought she died in an accident.” My voice was small, shaky. “That’s what they told me.”

He crouched beside me, resting one arm on the couch. “Victor always believed someone forced her to vanish. Or worse.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen.

In the footage, Olivia and Victor hugged tightly—too tightly. And then she handed him something—a small envelope—and pressed her fingers to his lips.

Then something shifted in the footage.

Movement in the background.

A shadow.

No face. No details. Just a tall figure in a dark coat, lingering in the alley behind them. Watching. Waiting.

And then, as quickly as they had met, Olivia turned and disappeared into the night. Victor stood there a moment longer, staring in the direction she’d gone. Then he too walked away.

The screen went black.

Silence.

I exhaled shakily. “That shadow… Who was that?”

Dominic stood, jaw tight. “That’s what we need to find out.”

I rose with him, still staring at the screen as if it might suddenly offer answers. “Why would someone spy on them? Unless…”

“Unless someone didn’t want them together,” Dominic finished grimly. “Someone with power. Someone who had something to lose.”

I turned toward him. “My father.”

The words tasted bitter.

He didn’t confirm or deny. He didn’t need to. Everything pointed in that direction. Senator Richard Sinclair—the man who had built a career on image, legacy, and ruthless control. A man who couldn’t afford a scandal. A man who married Olivia Sinclair not for love, but for power.

“What if he found out she was planning to leave him?” I asked, the possibility chilling. “What if he made her disappear?”

Dominic’s eyes darkened. “Then we expose him.”

As if summoned by our thoughts, my phone buzzed with a message. No sender. Just a video clip.

I tapped it open.

The screen showed a room. Fancy. Gilded. Familiar.

It was the ballroom of the Sinclair estate.

The video zoomed in on a conversation. Recent. Two men standing close together, speaking in hushed tones.

Victor Caldwell.

And Richard Sinclair.

I turned the volume up.

“—you never deserved her,” Victor hissed. “You used her. Broke her. And then you silenced her.”

Richard’s expression didn’t flinch. “She was mine, Victor. She made her choice when she married me.”

“She chose you because you blackmailed her,” Victor snapped. “You threatened her family. Her future. She only stayed because you forced her to.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Victor kept going. “You never loved her. Not the way I did. And if you had let her go that night, she might still be alive.”

Richard took a slow sip from his glass. “Or maybe she’d be dead either way.”

The video ended.

I stared at the screen, frozen. I could barely breathe.

“He admitted it,” I whispered. “He admitted he threatened her. That he might have… had something to do with her death.”

Dominic was already dialing a number. “We need to get this footage secured. There’s no way in hell I’m letting him spin this.”

But before the call connected, a loud bang echoed through the penthouse.

We both turned.

Footsteps. Fast. Heavy.

Then a voice.

“Dominic!” It was Liam.

He burst into the room, rain-drenched and out of breath. “You need to get Elena out of here. Now.”

“What? Why?” I asked, heart racing.

Liam’s eyes flicked to me. “There’s a hit on her.”

The room spun.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dominic growled.

“I was at Father’s house. Overheard a conversation between him and some fixer. They’re tying up loose ends, Dom. Elena’s getting too close.”

Dominic moved faster than I’d ever seen. He grabbed my arm gently but firmly. “Go. Now. I’ll handle security.”

“No—Dominic, I’m not running again,” I argued. “Not when we’re finally this close to the truth.”

He cupped my face, eyes fierce. “You’re not running. You’re surviving. There’s a difference.”

I could barely nod before he kissed me. Hard. Desperate. Like he was terrified it would be the last.

Then he pushed me toward Liam. “Get her out through the service elevator. I’ll meet you at the safe house.”

Liam didn’t argue. He took my hand and led me out, down the hall, down the stairs. Alarms started blaring in the distance. Gunshots followed.

I didn’t look back.

As I and Liam escape, Dominic is left behind—cornered by armed intruders in his own penthouse. Meanwhile, I receive a text from a blocked number:

“You’re next. Just like your mother.”