Chapter 7 – The Microfilm That Destroyed an Empire
Dominic stared at the tiny black memory card resting in his palm.
“What is on this, Arthur?” Dominic asked, his voice low and urgent.
Arthur coughed, squeezing Emily’s hand for strength.
“Twenty-four years ago, Clara found out the truth about the Carlisle family,” Arthur explained, his voice raspy. “Everyone thought the Carlisles were legitimate businessmen. Old money. But Clara discovered they built their empire by trafficking weapons through your father’s shipping ports. They were using the Moretti name to cover their federal crimes.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened. If the feds had found those weapons, his entire family would have been sent to prison for life.
“Clara stole their ledgers,” Arthur continued. “She digitized them onto that card. She was going to give it to your father. But Vanessa’s father, Richard Carlisle, found out. He ordered his men to run Clara’s car off the bridge.”
Emily covered her mouth, a sob escaping her throat. Her mother died trying to protect Dominic’s family.
“I barely managed to pull Emily from the wreckage before the car sank,” Arthur wept. “I knew if I went to your father, Richard Carlisle would slaughter us all. So I hid. I kept the card, waiting for a day when the Carlisles were weak enough to strike.”
Dominic gripped the pocket watch so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Vanessa’s entire engagement was a sham. A desperate, calculated operation to infiltrate the Moretti estate and destroy the only evidence that could put her entire family in federal prison forever.
“I’m going to end them,” Dominic whispered.
He didn’t mean a mafia war. He meant absolute, systemic destruction.
Dominic pulled out his burner phone. He dialed a number he hadn’t called in five years.
“Agent Miller,” Dominic said when the line picked up. “I have the federal evidence against the Carlisle family you’ve been looking for. Meet me at the FBI field office in one hour.”
He hung up and looked at Emily.
“Stay here with your father,” Dominic instructed. “I have men I can still trust—men outside of Marcus’s circle. They’re on their way here to guard this room. Do not leave.”
Emily stood up. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to take this card to the Feds. And then I’m going back to my estate to arrest Julian and Vanessa.”
Emily grabbed his arm. “Dominic, be careful. They own half the city.”
Dominic looked down at her hand on his arm. He gently covered it with his own.
“They don’t own me,” he promised softly.
Dominic left the hospital. True to his word, within twenty minutes, four highly trained, heavily armed guards—men fiercely loyal only to Dominic—arrived to secure Arthur’s room.
Emily sat by her father’s bed, watching him sleep, praying for daylight to come.
Two hours passed.
Emily’s phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket.
It was an unknown number.
She answered it cautiously. “Hello?”
“Hello, little rat.”
Emily’s blood ran cold. It was Vanessa.
“What do you want?” Emily demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.
“I want my memory card,” Vanessa said smoothly. “I know Dominic has it. I know he’s on his way to the FBI.”
“Then it’s already too late,” Emily said fiercely.
Vanessa laughed. A cold, wicked sound.
“Is it? You see, Emily, Marcus might have failed to kill you, but he was very useful in other ways. For instance, he knew the security codes to Dominic’s private wing.”
Emily stopped breathing.
“I’m sitting in Dominic’s living room right now,” Vanessa purred. “And little Isabella is sitting right next to me, drawing a very pretty picture.”
Panic, pure and blinding, exploded in Emily’s chest.
“Don’t you touch her!” Emily screamed.
“Call Dominic,” Vanessa ordered coldly. “Tell him if he hands that memory card over to the Feds, I will put a bullet in his daughter’s head before he even leaves the parking lot. He has twenty minutes to bring the card back to the estate.”
The line went dead.
Emily dropped the phone. She couldn’t breathe. Isabella. Sweet, innocent Isabella, who had covered the floor with napkins to protect her feet.
Emily grabbed her coat.
“Miss Parker, you can’t leave,” one of the guards said, stepping in front of the door. “Boss’s orders.”
“Vanessa has Isabella,” Emily said, her voice shaking with absolute terror. “Dominic doesn’t know.”
She dialed Dominic’s number frantically, but it went straight to voicemail. He was likely already inside the secure federal building where cell signals were blocked.
Emily had to make a choice.
She looked at her sleeping father. Then she looked at the guard.
“Give me your gun,” Emily demanded.
The guard blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Vanessa is at the estate with a child. Dominic is unreachable. Give me your gun, and drive me there right now, or I will walk there myself.”
The guard saw the absolute, terrifying resolve in the young woman’s green eyes. She looked exactly like a Moretti.
He handed her his backup pistol.
“Let’s go.”
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