Chapter 4 - The Photograph of the Forgotten Woman
The piece of crimson stationery slipped from Emily’s trembling fingers and fluttered to the linoleum floor.
Just like your mother.
Emily’s breath caught in her throat. She gripped the edge of the empty hospital bed, her vision blurring. For twenty-three years, she had believed her mother died of a tragic illness. Now, in the span of an hour, she had learned her mother was murdered, and the same people had just kidnapped her helpless father.
Dominic picked up the note. His dark eyes scanned Vanessa’s elegant handwriting, and a terrifying, cold fury settled over his features.
“She took him,” Emily sobbed, covering her face. “She took my dad because I ruined her engagement.”
“No,” Dominic said, his voice hard as iron. “Vanessa didn't do this because of a broken shoe, Emily. She did this because of the locket. She knew who you were.”
Dominic walked out into the hallway. A terrified night nurse was hovering near the nurses' station.
“Who signed Arthur Parker out?” Dominic demanded, his voice echoing off the walls.
The nurse swallowed hard, clutching a clipboard. “A—A man, Mr. Moretti. About an hour ago. He had the proper legal transfer documents. He said Mr. Parker was being moved to a private facility in the suburbs.”
“What did he look like?”
“Tall. Blond hair. Wearing a very expensive suit. He gave me his business card.”
The nurse handed Dominic a thick, embossed card.
Dominic looked at it and clenched his jaw. He handed it to Emily.
It read: Julian Carlisle. CEO, Carlisle Estate Management. Vanessa’s older brother.
“Why are they doing this?” Emily cried. “We don’t have any money. My dad is a truck driver!”
“Because your dad knows something they desperately want to keep hidden,” Dominic said. He pulled out his phone again. “Marcus. Find Julian Carlisle. Tear the city apart if you have to. If he touches a hair on Arthur Parker’s head, I’ll burn the Carlisle estate to the ground.”
Dominic hung up and turned to Emily. He could see she was on the verge of collapsing. He stepped forward and wrapped his arm securely around her waist, supporting her weight.
“I am going to get him back, Emily,” Dominic promised, looking directly into her tear-filled eyes. “You are my blood. You are my sister’s child. No one takes family from me and lives to brag about it.”
He guided her back to the armored SUV. The ride back to the Moretti estate was silent, heavy with fear and unspoken questions.
When they arrived, the massive mansion felt different to Emily. She had spent a year walking these halls with her head down, trying to remain invisible. Now, she walked through the front doors as the niece of the boss.
Dominic led her into his private study—a room no servant was ever allowed to enter.
He walked over to a heavy oak bookshelf and pulled a hidden lever. The shelf swung open, revealing a large steel safe. Dominic punched in a code, and the heavy door hissed open.
He reached inside and pulled out an old, worn leather box.
He brought it to the mahogany desk and opened it. Inside were stacks of old photographs, letters, and a few pieces of jewelry.
“When my father died, he left this box to me,” Dominic explained softly. “He told me it contained everything we had left of Clara.”
Dominic sifted through the photographs until he found a specific one. He slid it across the desk toward Emily.
Emily looked down.
It was a Polaroid of a beautiful young woman with dark hair and bright green eyes—the same woman from the locket. She was laughing, standing in front of an old, classic car.
But it wasn't the woman that made Emily’s heart stop.
It was the man standing next to her.
He was young, handsome, wearing a leather jacket, with his arm wrapped protectively around Clara’s waist.
“That’s my dad,” Emily whispered, touching the photograph. “That’s Arthur.”
Dominic stared at the picture, his brow furrowing in deep confusion.
“I don’t understand,” Dominic said. “I knew all of Clara’s friends. I never saw this man in my life.”
Emily squinted at the photograph. There was something in the background, just behind Arthur’s shoulder. A sign on a brick building.
“Mr. Moretti, look,” Emily pointed to the faded letters on the sign. Carlisle Shipping & Freight.
Dominic leaned in close. The pieces were suddenly snapping together in his mind, forming a picture he couldn't believe.
“Arthur wasn't a truck driver,” Dominic realized, his voice hollow. “He was a driver for the Carlisle family. The Carlisles were our bitter rivals back then. A romance between my sister and a Carlisle employee would have been a death sentence for both of them.”
Emily looked up at him. “They ran away together.”
“And the Carlisles found them,” Dominic finished, his fists clenching. “They ran Clara’s car off the bridge to send a message to my father. But Arthur survived. He went into hiding with you to keep you safe.”
Before Emily could process the weight of her parents' tragic love story, the study doors burst open.
Marcus, Dominic’s trusted consigliere, rushed into the room. He looked out of breath.
“Boss,” Marcus panted. “We found Julian Carlisle.”
Dominic stood up instantly. “Where?”
May you like
Marcus swallowed hard and looked at Emily with deep pity.
“He’s waiting in the grand foyer, Dominic. And he says if you don’t hand the girl over to him right now, he’s going to take Arthur Parker off life support.”
