Chapter 3 – THE FORGED SIGNATURE

“Maya! Maya!” I screamed into the dead phone.

Panic seized my chest so tightly I couldn’t breathe. My little sister. The only family I had left.

Dominic grabbed my shoulders, his large hands steadying me.

“Nora, look at me.” His voice was a deep, calming anchor. “I will not let anything happen to your sister. Do you understand? You have my word.”

I nodded, tears blurring my vision.

He turned to his driver, who had just rushed into the motel room. “Call the convoy. Every man we have. We’re hitting Willow Creek right now.”

Elena grabbed Dominic’s sleeve. “I’m coming with you. I need to see my daughter.”

Dominic touched her cheek softly. “You’re coming home.”

The drive to the clinic felt like a lifetime. The rain hammered against the windows, masking the sound of four black SUVs speeding through the night.

Inside the car, Dominic was on the phone with Daniel.

“Are Rose and Margaret safe?” Dominic asked.

“We’re at the safe house,” Daniel replied, his voice heavy with guilt. “Dominic… Margaret just told me something. The papers Lydia forged? It’s worse than we thought.”

“Explain.”

“Lydia didn’t just use Margaret’s name to adopt out your daughter. She’s been using Margaret’s forged signature for twenty-four years to drain Rose’s trust fund. Margaret was the legal custodian on paper, but Lydia was pulling the strings. If Lydia gets Sofia to New York tonight, the Romanovs get the baby, and Lydia gets the final payout from the trust.”

Dominic hung up the phone. The rage radiating from him was palpable.

We pulled up to the heavy iron gates of the Willow Creek Clinic. It was a massive, isolated brick building surrounded by high walls.

“Take the gates,” Dominic ordered into his radio.

The lead SUV didn’t even slow down. It rammed straight through the wrought-iron gates, tearing them off their hinges.

We swarmed the courtyard. Armed men poured out of the vehicles, surrounding the building.

Dominic stepped out, pulling a heavy black pistol from his shoulder holster.

“Stay behind me, Nora,” he ordered.

We pushed through the double glass doors of the clinic. The lobby was empty, the receptionist’s desk abandoned.

“Maya!” I yelled, my voice echoing down the sterile white hallways.

We rounded a corner and found two large men in suits standing guard outside a pair of heavy wooden doors. Romanov men.

Before they could even reach for their weapons, Dominic’s guards had them pinned against the wall.

Dominic kicked the wooden doors open.

Inside was a lavish private office.

Sitting behind the desk was a terrifyingly calm man with silver hair and a sharp suit—Alexei Romanov.

And standing next to him, gripping the arm of a crying young woman in scrubs, was Lydia’s head of security.

“Maya!” I sobbed, rushing forward.

The security guard pulled a gun, pressing it to Maya’s temple.

“Ah, Dominic,” Alexei Romanov said, steepling his fingers. “You’re interrupting a private business transaction.”

Dominic didn’t even look at the Russian boss. His eyes were locked on the security guard holding my sister.

“Drop the gun,” Dominic said quietly.

“I take my orders from Lydia,” the guard sneered.

“Lydia is currently tied to a chair in my wine cellar,” Dominic replied. “You take your orders from the man who pays your salary. And as of ten minutes ago, I froze every account Lydia has.”

The guard hesitated.

In that split second, Dominic raised his weapon and fired.

The gunshot deafened the room.

The guard screamed, dropping his gun as blood bloomed across his shoulder. He collapsed to the floor.

I ran to Maya, pulling her into my arms. She was shaking violently, crying into my shoulder. “Nora… they have the little girl in the back room.”

Dominic turned his gun on Alexei Romanov.

“Where is my daughter?”

Alexei raised his hands slowly, a dark smile playing on his lips.

“Your daughter?” Alexei chuckled. “Lydia told me the child was an orphan. A gesture of goodwill between our families.”

“Lydia lied. The deal is dead.”

Alexei reached into his jacket. Dominic’s men instantly raised their rifles.

But Alexei didn’t pull a weapon.

He pulled out a heavy, gold pocket watch.

He tossed it onto the desk.

Dominic froze.

I recognized the watch. I had polished it in Dominic’s study a dozen times. It belonged to Dominic’s late father.

“Lydia didn’t just lie about the baby, Dominic,” Alexei said softly. “Ask yourself how she paid for this clinic. How she afforded the bribes.”

Dominic stared at the watch. “Where did you get this?”

Alexei smiled. “From the man who drove the car the night your father died. Lydia sold him out to us twenty years ago. And now, I think it’s time you and I had a real conversation about who truly runs Chicago.”

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