Chapter 5 - The Note in the Wreckage|
Dominic stared through the clear plastic bag at the blood-stained note.
Meet me at the South Side warehouse at 9:00 PM. We need to discuss your husband's late-night habits.
A cold, sickening dread settled deep in Dominic’s stomach. Lorenzo Moretti was a ruthless rival, a snake who operated in the shadows. He had been trying to find a weak link in the Valente family for years.
Did Lorenzo lure Clara out there? Did he use Serena’s existence to humiliate her, to bait her into a trap?
"Did she know?" Dominic whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he looked up at Mateo. "Did Clara know about Serena?"
Mateo looked down at the floorboards, refusing to meet his boss's eyes.
"Mateo," Dominic snapped, his tone terrifyingly quiet. "Answer me."
"Everyone knew, Dom," Mateo said quietly. "The whole city knew. You weren't exactly discreet. You bought Serena a penthouse on Michigan Avenue right under the Valente name."
Dominic felt as though someone had struck him in the chest with a sledgehammer.
He had thought Clara was oblivious. He had thought she was too detached, too cold to notice his absences. But she had known the entire time. She had carried the humiliation in silence, maintaining her grace while her husband paraded another woman across Chicago.
"Why didn't she ever say anything?" Dominic muttered to himself, turning back toward the red light of the operating room. "Why didn't she scream at me? Why didn't she demand I end it?"
"Because she’s a Lombardi," Mateo said gently. "Lombardis don't throw tantrums, Dom. They endure. Until they can't anymore."
Before Dominic could digest Mateo’s words, the double doors of the operating room clicked open.
May you like
A senior surgeon stepped out, pulling off his bloody rubber gloves. His face was pale with exhaustion.
Dominic rushed forward, grabbing the doctor by his lapels. "Is she alive? Tell me she's alive!"
