The Wooden Horse

Chapter 3 – THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE

The silver locket gleamed under the chandeliers like a poisoned blade.

I reached for it, my fingers trembling. The clasp was slightly bent, just like I remembered from when my sister, Sarah, had dropped it years ago.

“You’re lying,” I whispered, though my chest felt hollow with the terrifying truth. Sarah had paid her college tuition in full just months after Noah was born. She had told me it was a scholarship.

Dominic didn’t look at the locket. He looked at me, watching my heart break in real-time.

He turned to Marco. “Get Vanessa out of my sight. Lock her in the east wing guest room. Collect her phone. If she speaks to anyone outside this house, I’ll hold you responsible.”

Vanessa gasped. “Dominic! You can’t hold me hostage! My father will—”

“Your father will get his daughter back when I have the truth,” Dominic interrupted, his voice like ice. “Take her.”

As Marco dragged a screaming Vanessa down the hall, Dominic turned to me. The cold mafia boss vanished, replaced by the man who used to hold me on the roof of his apartment building.

“Claire,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Pack whatever you have in this house. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” I backed up, pulling Noah with me. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Your family destroyed my life.”

“My father is dead, Claire,” Dominic said softly. “He died three years ago. I’m the head of this family now. And right now, you and my son are not safe here.”

Noah tugged at my apron. “Mommy, is he my daddy?”

Tears spilled down my cheeks. I looked at my beautiful boy, then at the man who shared his exact eyes. “Yes, baby. He is.”

Dominic’s breath hitched. He dropped to his knees, not caring about his tailored suit on the marble floor. He didn’t try to touch Noah—he just looked at him with an ocean of regret.

“I am so sorry I wasn’t there,” Dominic whispered to my son.

Ten minutes later, we were in the back of a black armored SUV. Noah had fallen asleep against my shoulder, the wooden horse safely tucked in his small arms.

Dominic sat across from us, watching us in the shadows of the passing streetlights.

“Where are we going?” I asked, gripping Sarah’s silver locket in my palm.

“A safe house,” Dominic said. “Until I find out how deep my father’s lies went. And why Vanessa’s family is suddenly trying to force this wedding so quickly.”

“You don’t know?”

“My father left a trust,” Dominic explained, his voice tight. “I don’t inherit the controlling shares of the family’s legitimate businesses unless I marry Vanessa before I turn thirty-five.”

I frowned. “But you turn thirty-five next month.”

“Exactly. But there’s a clause my father hid in the paperwork. A clause I only discovered yesterday.”

He leaned forward, the streetlights catching the gold flecks in his dark eyes.

“The marriage requirement is voided… if I produce a biological heir.”

My blood ran cold.

If Vanessa’s family knew about Noah, they didn’t just want to banish us. They wanted us erased.

Before I could speak, the SUV violently swerved.

Tires screeched. I threw my arms over Noah as we crashed against the leather door.

The privacy partition rolled down. Dominic’s trusted driver, a man who had worked for the Morettis for twenty years, turned around.

But his hands weren’t on the steering wheel.

One hand was holding a suppressed pistol, aimed directly at Dominic’s chest.

“I’m sorry, Boss,” the driver said, his eyes empty. “But the Bellini family pays better.”

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