Chapter 6 - The House on the Lake
Dominic moved me into a guarded apartment that night.
I argued.
He ignored me.
“It’s temporary,” he said.
“That’s what powerful men say right before they start controlling your life.”
His mouth tightened. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“No,” he said. “You never ask for anything.”
That stopped me.
The apartment overlooked Lake Michigan. It was beautiful, expensive, and nothing like home. Dominic had assigned two female security officers outside my door, sent groceries I did not request, and arranged for Bellavita to continue paying me.
I hated all of it.
Mostly because some part of me was grateful.
Two days later, Dominic asked me to visit Matteo.
I found him in a private hospital suite, sleeping beneath soft blue blankets. His cheeks were pink again. His tiny fist was curled around Dominic’s finger.
“You came,” Dominic said.
“You asked.”
He looked at his son.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“Be a father?”
“Yes.”
The honesty in his voice disarmed me.
“Then start small,” I said. “Hold him. Talk to him. Learn what each cry means. Ask for help when you don’t know.”
Dominic gave me a look.
“You’re telling a Moretti to ask for help?”
“I’m telling a man with a newborn to stop pretending he has all the answers.”
To my surprise, he laughed.
It was brief.
Low.
But real.
Then his phone rang.
His expression changed immediately.
“Say it,” he answered.
A man spoke rapidly on the other end.
Dominic’s eyes lifted to mine.
“Claire,” he said slowly, “your apartment was searched.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
“Victor’s men.”
“They were looking for me?”
“They were looking for leverage.”
I thought of Leo’s old blanket. The photographs in my dresser. The life I had kept small because I could not bear to lose more of it.
“What did they take?”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“Nothing important.”
But I knew he was lying.
Later, one of the security officers found me standing by the window.
“What did they take?” I asked again.
She hesitated.
Then she handed me a small evidence bag.
Inside was Leo’s hospital bracelet.
My knees buckled.
Someone had taken it from my apartment, photographed it, and left it on my pillow.
A message was attached.
YOU COULDN’T SAVE YOUR SON. YOU WON’T SAVE HIS.
That night, I stopped being afraid for myself.
May you like
I became furious.
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