Chapter 4 - Shadows of the Past
Emma’s hands clenched into tight fists inside the pockets of her oversized coat. The fear that had paralyzed her earlier began to curdle into something sharper, something born of grief and desperation.
“My father wasn't just a logistics manager,” Emma said, her voice dropping the polite, submissive tone she had used during her housekeeping shifts. “He was the man who set up your offshore shell companies. And three years ago, he realized someone inside your inner circle was using those exact accounts to funnel money to the people who wanted you dead.”
Dominic’s expression didn't change, but his fingers stopped turning the key. “Men under me don't audit my books.”
“He didn't audit them. He stumbled across a discrepancy the night before he died of a sudden ‘heart attack’ that the county coroner didn't bother to look into,” Emma stepped closer to the edge of the desk, ignoring the warning bells ringing in her head. “Before he died, he gave me that key and told me that whoever held the master ledger controlled your entire empire. He said if anything happened to him, I should wait for the right moment to hand it to you—when you were vulnerable enough to look past your own paranoia.”
Dominic stared at her for a long, agonizing moment. The silence in the underground office was absolute, broken only by the hum of the servers.
“You think I’m vulnerable?” Dominic asked softly.
“You’re sitting in a thirty-room fortress surrounded by armed men because you trust no one,” Emma fired back, her voice shaking with suppressed fury. “You haven't left this estate in two years because you’re waiting for the second bullet. If that’s not vulnerability, Mr. Kane, I don't know what is.”
For a second, Dominic looked as though he might reach for the gun hidden inside his desk drawer. The air grew dangerously thin.
Then, slowly, a dark, humorless smile touched his lips.
“You have terrible survival instincts, Emma,” he murmured, leaning back in his leather chair. “You walk into the lions' den, fall asleep on my lap, and then lecture me on my psychological state.”
“I needed the thirty-two dollars an hour.”
“And now you want protection?”
“I want the truth about why my father had to die,” Emma said, her voice cracking slightly. “And I know for a fact that the leak wasn't me. It was someone who knew you had that key hidden in the safe before the shooting.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. The implication hung heavily between them. Only three men knew where that key was kept before the night of the assassination attempt.
May you like
Ethan. Mrs. Caldwell. And Dominic’s own cousin, Richard Kane, who had taken over the daily operations of the shipping firm the moment Dominic lost the use of his legs.
Before Dominic could speak, the secure terminal on his desk flashed a harsh, crimson warning light.
