“Luca Bellandi.”

Everything inside me stopped.

I turned.

Luca was standing behind me.

Very still.

The front door clicked.

Locked.

I looked at him.

He smiled sadly.

“Oh, Emily.”

I rose slowly.

“You.”

“I hoped Dominic had destroyed that file.”

“You killed Richard.”

“Yes.”

“You broke into my apartment.”

“Yes.”

“The man in Maine?”

“Mine.”

My blood turned to ice.

Luca stepped closer.

“You were never supposed to become complicated.”

I backed toward the kitchen.

“Dominic trusts you.”

“Dominic loves loyalty more than intelligence.”

“He’s known you his entire life.”

“That is why betrayal works.”

My mind raced.

The gray-haired man behind the maintenance building.

Scar near his ear.

Luca had no scar.

Then I understood.

“You weren’t the man with Richard.”

“No.”

“Who was?”

“Someone trying to help him.”

“Who?”

Luca smiled.

“Dominic.”

My heart stopped.

“What?”

“Richard contacted Dominic because he found your father’s old evidence. Dominic met him behind the school because Richard insisted on choosing a public place.”

I remembered the man’s back.

Gray hair.

Wrong.

“No.”

“A disguise.”

Luca shrugged.

“Dominic saw you crossing the lot. Richard saw you too. Dominic left immediately because he knew if I discovered you had witnessed anything, I would act.”

The entire story rearranged itself.

Dominic hadn’t appeared because my name accidentally entered his world.

He had been trying to protect me before I even knew I needed protection.

“Why kill my father?”

Luca’s expression hardened.

“Thomas Carter was sentimental. Men like that always become dangerous.”

My hands shook.

“He had a family.”

“So did dozens of men whose livelihoods depended on those routes.”

“He was sick.”

“Cancer did what my men failed to finish.”

The words hit so brutally I forgot fear.

I stepped toward him.

“You disgusting—”

He drew a gun.

Everything inside me froze.

“Sit down.”

I didn’t.

“Emily.”

“No.”

His mouth thinned.

“You have your father’s stubbornness.”

“And Dominic?”

“He has his father’s weakness.”

“Me?”

“You.”

The word was almost gentle.

“Antonio Moretti became weak when he cared about his son. Thomas became weak when he cared about you. Dominic has spent his entire adult life avoiding that mistake.”

Luca raised the gun.

“And then you happened.”

Somewhere outside, a car door slammed.

Luca’s eyes flicked toward the window.

I lunged for the kitchen island.

The gunshot exploded.

Stone splintered beside my hand.

I dropped.

The front door crashed inward.

Dominic.

He came through with two men behind him.

His gaze found me first.

Always me first.

“Emily!”

Luca grabbed me before I could run.

An arm locked around my throat.

The gun pressed beneath my jaw.

Dominic stopped.

He looked exhausted.

Black shirt.

No jacket.

The healing wound beneath his ribs had clearly not stopped him from coming.

“Let her go.”

Luca laughed.

“You sound like your father.”

“Let her go.”

“You know what your problem has always been, Dominic?”

Dominic’s eyes stayed on mine.

“Apparently hiring you.”

“You think devotion makes you strong.”

“No.”

His voice was calm.

“Devotion gives strength a purpose.”

Luca tightened his hold.

The barrel bit my skin.

“Drop the gun.”

Dominic did.

Immediately.

It hit the floor.

My heart broke.

“Dominic, no.”

His eyes never left mine.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“It will be.”

Luca smiled.

“You see? Weak.”

Dominic took one slow step forward.

“Do you remember Thomas Carter?”

Luca’s smile disappeared.

“He begged you once, didn’t he?” Dominic asked.

“Dominic,” I whispered.

Luca’s breathing changed.

“You were there.”

“I was seventeen.”

“You were nothing.”

“I remember exactly what he said.”

Luca’s gun shifted.

Dominic continued.

“He didn’t beg you to spare him.”

Silence.

“He begged you not to let Emily see.”

My chest caved in.

Luca stared.

Dominic’s voice roughened.

“Because she was in the hallway.”

I stopped breathing.

“No.”

Dominic’s eyes filled.

“No.”

I could barely speak.

“I was never at your father’s office.”

Dominic looked at me.

“You were twelve.”

A memory came back.

Not as an image.

As sound.

My father shouting.

A hand over my mouth.

The smell of gasoline.

A teenage boy whispering into my hair.

Don’t look.

Don’t look.

I staggered inside Luca’s grip.

Dominic continued.

“You came to surprise your father after school. Thomas hid you in a supply closet when Luca’s men arrived.”

My entire body began trembling.

“Who covered my mouth?”

Dominic’s face broke.

“Me.”

The room vanished.

I saw a teenage boy kneeling in darkness.

Blood on his shirt.

Holding a terrified twelve-year-old girl against his chest.

I remembered dark eyes.

I remembered him whispering.

I won’t let them find you.

“Oh my God.”

“You remembered nothing afterward,” Dominic said. “Your father told you there had been an electrical fire. He left Moretti operations the next week.”

Luca laughed bitterly.

“Touching.”

Dominic ignored him.

I understood his nightmare.

No.

Please.

It had never been about his father.

It had been about mine.

About me.

He hadn’t promised my father years later.

He had promised while holding twelve-year-old me in his arms.

Luca’s gun trembled.

That was all Dominic needed.

I drove my heel backward into Luca’s shin.

His grip loosened.

Dominic moved.

One of his men fired.

Luca’s weapon fell.

Then Luca collapsed beside it.

Silence followed.

Real silence.

The kind that feels impossible after violence.

Dominic crossed the room.

I flinched when he reached for me.

He stopped instantly.

That hurt more than anything.

“Emily.”

I looked at him.

The boy from the supply closet.

The man from the car.

The husband who said the marriage meant nothing.

The man who had taken a bullet.

“You knew me when I was twelve.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you didn’t remember.”

“That wasn’t your decision.”

“No.”

“You let me marry you without knowing.”

“Yes.”

My eyes burned.

“Why?”

He looked destroyed.

“Because when Luca found Richard, he would eventually find you. Marriage gave me legal authority, security access, immediate protection. I could move you without explaining Moretti history you had spent fifteen years forgetting.”

“That’s not all.”

“No.”

“Tell me the rest.”

Dominic looked away.

“Dominic.”

His voice came out almost broken.

“Your father made me promise I would never make you carry what happened.”

“So you lied.”

“Yes.”

“You paid his medical bills.”

“Yes.”

“Before we were married?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Since his diagnosis.”

My chest tightened.

“My student loans?”

“I was already paying them anonymously.”

“What?”

“The loan company rejected anonymous payments over a certain amount.”

Despite everything, a hysterical laugh escaped me.

Dominic almost smiled.

Then didn’t.

“The art supplies?”

“I remembered what your father said.”

“What did he say?”

Dominic swallowed.

“He kept one of your drawings in his wallet.”

I covered my mouth.

“He showed it to me the night everything happened. A blue house with a yellow sun. He said, ‘My daughter thinks every empty space deserves color.’”

Tears blurred Dominic’s face.

“He told me not to let his darkness become yours.”

I closed my eyes.

The grief was unbearable.

And beautiful.

And cruel.

When I opened them again, Dominic stood exactly where I had left him.