Chapter 3 - MY ROOMMATE WAS NEVER MY ROOMMATE
I woke beneath white blankets with Dominic sitting ten feet away.
For several seconds, I thought I was in a hospital.
Then I saw the windows.
Chicago spread beneath me in glittering darkness.
I was in Dominic’s private residence at the top of Moretti Tower.
A medical monitor beeped beside the bed.
My hands were wrapped in warm compresses.
A doctor I did not recognize was checking something on a tablet.
“You’re awake.”
Dominic stood immediately.
I looked at him.
Then remembered.
Lily.
Assigned.
Elias Clarke.
My father.
“Get out.”
The doctor blinked.
Dominic didn’t.
“Emma—”
“Not you.”
I looked at the doctor.
“Sorry.”
He almost smiled.
“Your temperature is stable. No serious frostbite. You were lucky.”
Lucky.
I had been locked outside in a blizzard.
Apparently the universe had an interesting definition of luck.
The doctor left.
Dominic remained.
“Get out.”
“No.”
“You lied to me for two years.”
“I protected you.”
“That sentence is not going to improve this conversation.”
His mouth tightened.
“Emma.”
“Who is Lily?”
Silence.
“Tell me.”
“She works for me.”
My stomach dropped.
“In what capacity?”
“Security.”
I laughed.
It sounded ugly.
“My roommate works security for the mafia.”
“I’m not—”
“Please don’t insult me with the businessman speech tonight.”
Dominic actually looked offended.
Under different circumstances, I might have enjoyed that.
“What exactly was Lily supposed to protect me from?”
He did not answer quickly enough.
“My father.”
“No.”
“What happened to him?”
Dominic walked toward the windows.
For the first time since I had known him, he looked uncertain.
“My father died in a robbery,” I said. “That is what my mother told me. That is what the police told us.”
“Your father did not die in a robbery.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“How did he die?”
“He was murdered.”
The room tilted.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
I pushed the blankets away.
Dominic moved immediately.
“Stay down.”
“Don’t touch me.”
He stopped.
“My father died twelve years ago.”
“Yes.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Since the night it happened.”
I stared at him.
“How old were you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“And my father knew you?”
Dominic’s face became unreadable.
“Very well.”
I suddenly felt sick.
“Explain.”
He sat across from me.
Not behind a desk.
Not standing over me.
Almost as though he understood that one wrong movement might send me running.
“Your father was an accountant for Moretti Freight.”
I shook my head.
“He worked for Lakeshore Logistics.”
“We owned it.”
Of course.
Everything seemed to lead back to Dominic’s family.
“He discovered money moving through companies that weren’t supposed to exist.”
“North Shore?”
Dominic nodded.
“That was one.”
The name had existed for twelve years.
The contracts on my desk were not new fraud.
They were the continuation of something old.
“My father reported it?”
“To me.”
“Why you?”
“Because he didn’t trust anyone else.”
That almost made me laugh.
“My father trusted a Moretti?”
Dominic looked toward the floor.
“He saved my life.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Twelve years ago, somebody tried to kill me.”
I stared.
“Your father learned about it before I did.”
Dominic’s voice became quieter.
“A bomb was placed beneath one of our vehicles. Elias found the payment connected to the mechanic. He stopped me before I got into the car.”
My hands began shaking.
“What happened afterward?”
“We started investigating together.”
“You and my father.”
“Yes.”
“Did my mother know?”
“No.”
“Did I?”
“You were nineteen. Away at college.”
I remembered.
My father died during my first semester.
I had come home to a mother who seemed ten years older than the woman I had hugged goodbye two months earlier.
Dominic continued.
“Elias discovered the same people stealing from the companies were paying officials, police officers, union representatives. He kept copies.”
“A ledger.”
His eyes sharpened.
“How do you know that?”
“I don’t. I guessed.”
“He called it that.”
The monitor beside me began beeping faster.
Dominic noticed.
“Emma.”
“Finish.”
“Someone found out.”
“And killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“We never proved it.”
“That means you have a suspicion.”
He looked away.
“Several.”
I hated that answer.
“Then why hire me?”
His eyes returned to mine.
“Because eleven years after your father died, someone broke into your mother’s house.”
I stopped.
Mom had told me it was random.
Nothing valuable had been taken.
Only old boxes opened.
My father’s desk searched.
“You knew about that too.”
“Yes.”
“Then I applied for a job here.”
“No.”
He hesitated.
“You never applied.”
I stared at him.
“That is insane. I interviewed with human resources.”
“After your résumé was sent to them.”
“By who?”
“Me.”
Rage replaced confusion.
“You arranged my job?”
“I needed you somewhere I could protect you.”
“You manipulated my career!”
“You were working sixty-hour weeks for an insurance company paying you half what you earned here.”
“That is not the point!”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
His answer came quietly.
That somehow made me angrier.
“And Lily?”
“Former Army medic. Private security after she left service.”
“She told me she worked in healthcare consulting.”
“She does contract work.”
“While spying on me.”
“She was never supposed to spy.”
“Then what exactly did she report?”
Dominic’s silence answered.
I laughed again.
“Unbelievable.”
“Only security concerns.”
“Who I dated?”
“No.”
“Where I went?”
“If you traveled unexpectedly.”
“Who came to the apartment?”
“Yes.”
I threw a pillow at him.
He caught it.
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve considerably worse.”
“I know.”
The bedroom door opened.
Lily stepped inside.
Her hair was damp from snow.
Her face was swollen from crying.
I stared at the woman I had shared takeout with, watched terrible television with, trusted with spare keys and heartbreak.
“Get out.”
“Emma—”
“Was any of it real?”
She stopped.
“What?”
“Our friendship.”
Her face collapsed.
“Yes.”
“Did Dominic pay you?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t tell me it was real.”
“Emma, I was supposed to move out after six months.”
That made me pause.
“What?”
“The threat died down. Dominic told me I could end the assignment.”
Dominic looked surprised.
Lily continued.
“I stayed.”
“Why?”
“Because you became my friend.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“And because you leave cabinet doors open, forget to buy milk, and cry at dog commercials even though you swear you don’t.”
My throat tightened.
“Lily…”
“I lied about why I moved in. I did not lie about loving you.”
Dominic looked away.
He had enough survival instinct to recognize a conversation that did not need him.
I wiped my eyes angrily.
“Who pulled you tonight?”
Lily’s expression changed.
“At 9:48, I received a secure instruction telling me Dominic had moved you onto tower security for the night because of the party.”
“I never gave that order,” Dominic said.
“I know now.”
“Whose authorization?”
“Yours.”
Dominic went still.
Someone had his internal credentials.
Lily approached the bed.
“By the time Marco called me, you were already outside.”
She began crying again.
“I should have checked.”
I hated that I wanted to comfort her.
So I didn’t.
Not yet.
Marco entered.
He held a tablet.
“We found the south-door footage.”
Dominic stood.
“Show me.”
The video showed me leaving.
The black sedan.
The man.
The struggle.
Then the car pulling away.
Marco froze the frame.
The driver’s face was partly visible through the windshield.
Dominic stared at it.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Peter Rinaldi. Former North Shore security.”
Marco added, “He disappeared after Elias died.”
My blood went cold.
The same network.
Still alive.
Dominic looked toward me.
“This wasn’t about the contract.”
“Then what?”
“They thought you had something.”
“I don’t.”
Marco and Dominic exchanged another one of those infuriating looks.
I saw it.
“What?”
Marco spoke reluctantly.
“Your father left something behind.”
My heart slammed.
Dominic closed his eyes.
I whispered:
“What did he leave?”
Dominic answered.
“A key.”
“To what?”
“A safe-deposit box.”
“Where is it?”
Another silence.
Then the truth.
May you like
“I’ve had it for twelve years.”
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