Chapter 3 - WAREHOUSE SEVENTEEN
I didn't sleep.
Neither did Dominic.
By dawn, the mansion had become strangely quiet. The guards had cleared the halls, the broken window downstairs had been boarded, and the man who had tried to enter my room was gone.
Dead, one guard told me.
Captured, another said.
Dominic told me nothing.
That was the part I trusted least.
At six-thirty, I found him standing in the library with his back to the fireplace.
He was holding Gabriel's photograph.
“Where is Warehouse 17?”
He looked at me.
“You found something.”
It wasn't a question.
I touched the metal box hidden beneath my sweater.
“Gabriel left me a key.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“What did he write?”
I hesitated.
“He told me to go there.”
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“You never went.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I was pregnant.”
Dominic stared.
“You were pregnant when Gabriel disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told anyone in my family.”
“I was trying to keep my baby alive.”
He looked away.
For several seconds, his shoulders were rigid.
Then he said, “I should have protected you.”
“You didn't know me.”
“I knew my brother.”
“And you thought he was dead.”
“I should have questioned it.”
“You buried him.”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
There was no excuse in his voice.
Only regret.
He walked to the desk.
“Warehouse 17 was shut down seven years ago.”
“Why?”
“Fire.”
“Was Gabriel there?”
“No.”
“Then why did he tell me to go?”
Dominic didn't answer.
He picked up his phone.
“Get the cars ready.”
“Where are we going?”
“To Warehouse 17.”
I stared at him.
“You said it was dangerous.”
“It is.”
“Then why are you taking me?”
“Because you're going whether I approve or not.”
He knew me too well already.
“And Ellie?”
“She stays here with Moren.”
“No.”
“Clara.”
“She stays with me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“My daughter doesn't leave my sight.”
His expression hardened.
“You will not bring a three-year-old into a building someone tried to erase.”
I folded my arms.
“Then I won't go.”
He stared at me.
I stared back.
A strange silence followed.
Finally, Dominic exhaled.
“You're stubborn.”
“I'm a mother.”
He almost smiled.
“Same thing, apparently.”
An hour later, we drove north.
Warehouse 17 stood on a forgotten stretch of waterfront.
The building looked abandoned.
Its windows were boarded.
The roof sagged.
A faded Vale Shipping logo remained above the entrance.
Dominic got out first.
Three guards followed.
I stepped from the SUV.
The wind smelled like salt and rust.
“This place is dead,” I whispered.
“No,” Dominic said.
He looked at the locked doors.
“Dead places don't usually have fresh tire tracks.”
My heart jumped.
He signaled his men.
They moved around the building.
I followed Dominic inside.
The smell hit me immediately.
Smoke.
Old paper.
Wet concrete.
My stomach turned.
We walked through the main floor.
Rows of empty shelving stretched into darkness.
Dominic stopped.
“What?”
He pointed.
Fresh footprints.
Someone had been there recently.
I pulled Gabriel's key from my pocket.
It was small, black, and stamped with the same silver moon.
Dominic stared at it.
“My father used that mark.”
“You said that.”
“I never said why.”
He walked toward a steel door hidden behind the shelving.
“There were rooms beneath this warehouse.”
My pulse quickened.
“What kind?”
“Private offices.”
“Whose?”
“My father's.”
He inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Inside was a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
I followed.
At the bottom, we found a hallway lined with old photographs.
The first showed Dominic's father.
The second showed Dominic as a teenager.
The third showed Gabriel.
I stopped.
Gabriel was smiling.
He stood beside a younger version of Dominic.
The brothers looked happy.
I touched the glass.
“Why did they hate each other?”
Dominic frowned.
“What?”
“Gabriel told me your father hated him.”
“My father didn't hate Gabriel.”
“He said he did.”
“He was wrong.”
Dominic stared at the photograph.
“Gabriel and I fought constantly. But we loved each other.”
I looked at him.
“Then why did Gabriel tell me to stay away from you?”
He didn't answer.
A noise came from farther down the corridor.
We both turned.
Someone was running.
Dominic drew his weapon.
“Stay behind me.”
We moved quickly.
At the end of the hall, a door slammed.
Dominic kicked it open.
Empty.
But a laptop sat on the desk.
The screen was still glowing.
A video was paused.
Dominic pressed play.
Gabriel appeared.
My knees weakened.
He looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this, then either I'm dead or Dominic finally discovered what Father was hiding.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
Gabriel continued.
“I don't know which possibility scares me more.”
The video skipped.
Then his face returned.
“Clara, if you're here, I'm sorry.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“I wanted to come back.”
Gabriel swallowed.
“But someone inside the family knows about you.”
The screen went black.
Dominic slammed his hand against the desk.
“Play it again.”
I did.
The same words.
Someone inside the family knows about you.
Then the screen flashed.
A second file opened automatically.
This one contained names.
Dates.
Bank transfers.
Shipments.
Payments.
And one name appeared again and again.
MARGARET VALE.
Dominic's mother.
I looked at him.
“No.”
He didn't move.
“My mother died three years ago.”
“I know.”
“She couldn't have done this.”
The screen showed another document.
A payment made four months after her funeral.
Dominic's face went pale.
Then another file appeared.
Recipient: GABRIEL VALE.
Status: ACTIVE.
My hand flew to my mouth.
Dominic whispered,
“My brother's alive.”
Before we could process it, the warehouse lights snapped on.
A voice came from the hallway.
“You were never supposed to find that.”
Dominic raised his gun.
I turned.
A man stood in the doorway.
He was holding a photograph of Ellie.
Then he smiled.
“Hello, Clara.”
I recognized him.
He had been one of the Vale estate's longtime drivers.
His name was Thomas.
And he had been the man who drove me home every night for eight months.
Dominic's voice became deadly quiet.
“How long?”
Thomas smiled.
“Long enough.”
“How long have you been working against me?”
“I never worked against you.”
“Then explain the photograph.”
Thomas lifted it.
“Your brother wanted insurance.”
My heart stopped.
“Gabriel?”
Thomas nodded.
“He knew someone would eventually discover the truth.”
“What truth?” Dominic demanded.
Thomas looked at me.
“That your daughter isn't the only child Gabriel left behind.”
I felt dizzy.
“Noah.”
Thomas smiled.
“So you've heard the name.”
“Where is he?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
Thomas ignored me.
“Gabriel made arrangements years ago. He knew his enemies would search for the baby. So he split the evidence.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“What enemies?”
Thomas's eyes shifted toward the computer.
“The people who now control half the shipping routes your family believes belong to them.”
Dominic's expression hardened.
“You're saying someone inside the organization took over my father's network.”
“Not someone.”
Thomas looked directly at him.
“Several people.”
“Names.”
“Gabriel has them.”
“Where is my brother?”
Thomas hesitated.
Then he reached into his coat.
I expected a weapon.
Instead, he pulled out a small envelope.
He threw it onto the desk.
“Read it.”
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a recent photograph.
Gabriel.
Alive.
Older.
A scar crossed his cheek.
His eyes were tired.
But it was him.
I grabbed the photograph.
My fingers shook.
“He's alive.”
Thomas nodded.
“He's been alive for six years.”
“Where?”
“He will contact you when he's ready.”
Dominic looked furious.
“You expect me to wait?”
“No.”
Thomas glanced toward the ceiling.
“You're supposed to survive long enough for him to find you.”
A gunshot exploded from the hallway.
Thomas collapsed.
Dominic pulled me behind the desk.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Thomas was bleeding.
I crawled toward him.
“Who shot you?”
His lips moved.
I leaned closer.
“Don't trust…”
He stopped.
His eyes closed.
Dominic checked his pulse.
“Alive.”
He turned toward me.
“We're leaving.”
I clutched Gabriel's photograph.
“What about Thomas?”
“My men will get him out.”
“And Gabriel?”
Dominic looked at the photograph.
“For six years, I thought I buried my brother.”
He handed it back to me.
“I won't bury him twice.”
We ran.
Outside, the wind had become violent.
Dominic shoved me into the SUV.
As the vehicle pulled away, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
No one spoke.
Then a man's voice whispered,
“Clara.”
I knew that voice.
My heart stopped.
“Gabriel?”
A breath.
Then he said,
“I told you never to trust my brother.”
The call ended.
Dominic had heard every word.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
Neither of us knew what frightened me more.
That Gabriel was alive.
Or that he still didn't trust Dominic.
Dominic stared through the windshield.
“Why would Gabriel think I betrayed him?”
I held the phone tightly.
“I don't know.”
But deep inside, a terrible thought had already begun forming.
Maybe Gabriel had never been running from his enemies.
Maybe he had been running from his own family.
May you like
And maybe the reason he stayed away from his daughter was not because he couldn't reach us.
Maybe it was because he was protecting us from Dominic.
