Chapter 3 - THE DINNER THAT NEVER HAPPENED
Dominic called Daniel six times. Every attempt failed.
Outside the pantry, morning sunlight spilled over the Moretti—no, Romano—estate's polished floors, illuminating a house that suddenly looked less like a home than a beautifully decorated puzzle with half its pieces missing. Dominic stared at the dark screen of his phone and repeated Daniel's last words.
The bottle meant for you.
He had not taken any medication that evening. He had returned unexpectedly and eaten nothing. His dinner, if he had kept his original schedule, would have been served at a private gathering Vanessa arranged for the following night. The foundation's annual trustees' reception was supposed to be a pleasant formality, one of the events Dominic attended because his father cared about the charity's reputation.
Now he wondered who had actually planned the menu.
He called Rebecca and repeated Daniel's warning precisely, without adding his own conclusions.
"Don't eat or drink anything you can't account for until we understand what he means," she advised. "And give the message to investigators. It might refer to a real danger, or it might be another attempt to manipulate you."
"Daniel sounded frightened."
"Frightened people can tell the truth. They can also be misinformed."
Dominic hated that she was right.
At the hospital, Antonio's condition remained under observation. Doctors were treating his symptoms and reviewing the medication history, while a social worker interviewed him privately to determine whether he felt safe returning home. Dominic did not object. If Antonio had been frightened enough to beg Emily to stay beside his wheelchair, he deserved to speak without his son or fiancée shaping the answer.
When Emily arrived later that morning, Rebecca asked whether she was comfortable describing what she'd heard between Vanessa and Daniel.
Emily sat with both hands folded in her lap. "It was after dinner. I was putting clean towels in the cabinet outside Mr. Romano's room. Ms. Sterling said, 'You promised to replace the bottle before Dominic came home.' Daniel said, 'I told you I need more time.' Then she told him he didn't understand what would happen if Mr. Romano talked."
"What did Daniel say next?" Rebecca asked.
"I heard footsteps. I hid behind the linen cart. I couldn't see their faces."
"Did you hear the word medication?"
"No. I assumed they meant the bottle on the tray because it was missing afterward."
Rebecca nodded. "Thank you for separating what you heard from what you assumed."
Emily looked startled. "Am I wrong?"
"Not necessarily. But you're being careful, and that matters."
Dominic watched her. She wasn't trying to make herself important. She seemed afraid that one imprecise word might cause someone else to suffer.
"Did anyone see you hiding?" he asked.
"I don't think so. But later Daniel found me carrying towels near the stairs. He asked whether I had heard anything."
"What did you say?"
"That I hadn't."
Dominic frowned. "Why?"
"Because he told me I had a nice room, a reliable paycheck, and a future as long as I learned which conversations didn't belong to me."
The sentence hit Dominic hard. It was the sort of advice men in his business gave when they wanted fear to sound like wisdom. He had used versions of it himself.
"Emily, did you believe he would hurt you?"
"I didn't know. That was the worst part."
Dominic looked away. The possibility that Daniel had threatened an employee was painful, but he wasn't going to dismiss her account because of the man's long service.
That afternoon, Rebecca obtained preliminary records concerning the proposed care facility. The facility's parent company had been incorporated only eight months earlier. One of its investors held an interest in an investment partnership that had recently offered to buy several Romano warehouses at a discount.
"Who owns the partnership?" Dominic asked.
"The ownership isn't transparent yet. We'll need more records."
"Vanessa?"
"Possibly. We can't say."
He paced his office. "She wanted Dad declared unable to make decisions."
"She may have wanted the authorization for legitimate reasons, but the timing is concerning. We should find out who prepared the document and whether Antonio understood it."
"What about the medication?"
"The physician is obtaining records from the prescribing clinicians and pharmacy. They will determine what was authorized."
For the first time all day, Dominic stopped pacing. "I want every step documented."
"Good. That means no surprise visits to the pharmacy with armed men."
He gave her a tired look. "You take all the fun out of being my attorney."
"I consider that my greatest professional achievement."
He almost smiled.
At five, the kitchen manager called to report that the catering service for the trustees' reception had received instructions to prepare an additional private meal in Dominic's study. The order was attributed to Vanessa. It had been placed two weeks earlier, before anyone knew Dominic would return to New York early.
"Cancel it," Dominic said. Then he corrected himself. "Preserve the order and the correspondence. Don't destroy anything."
He called the catering firm through its public office number and asked them to retain records of the request. Their coordinator confirmed that the private meal was not part of the original reception plan. It had been added after a conversation with Vanessa's assistant.
"And was any medication mentioned?" Dominic asked.
The coordinator sounded confused. "Not to me, sir."
He thanked her and ended the call. Daniel's warning remained vague, but it now had a possible context.
At six, Vanessa called.
"Dominic, darling, I've been trying to reach you all day."
He stared at her name on the screen. "I know."
"Your lawyer won't let me into Antonio's room. It's humiliating."
"Antonio asked for privacy."
"He's confused. Emily has been filling his head with nonsense."
"His doctors are speaking to him privately."
"You're choosing a maid over the woman you're going to marry."
Dominic looked toward the engagement portrait on his office wall. He and Vanessa had been photographed at a charity gala, her hand resting on his chest, both of them smiling at a camera. He remembered how she had insisted on approving the photographs before they were published.
"I'm choosing to investigate what happened in my house," he said.
Vanessa's voice sharpened. "You're making a mistake."
"Maybe. But it will be my mistake."
She exhaled. "You don't know what Antonio has been doing with the foundation money. If the truth comes out, our family will be dragged through the newspapers."
Dominic went still. "What truth?"
"Your father has been transferring assets without telling you."
"To whom?"
"I've been trying to protect you."
He heard the sentence for what it was: a request for trust instead of information.
"Send the documents to Rebecca."
"Dominic—"
"Send them."
Vanessa ended the call.
He sat alone for several minutes, trying to reconcile the woman he had intended to marry with the one who had called an elderly man a burden and mocked the employee who cared for him. He could accept that relationships changed. He could even accept that his judgment had been wrong. What he couldn't accept was being asked to ignore his father's fear because the truth might embarrass someone important.
As night fell, Mrs. Bell brought him Emily's employment file. Dominic had asked only for records relevant to the investigation, but the housekeeper said there was something he needed to see.
"The last page," she said.
It was a formal complaint filed by Emily twelve days earlier. She had reported that someone entered Antonio's room after the evening medication and removed a labeled pill organizer. She also described a threat from Daniel when she asked about it.
The complaint was marked CLOSED — NO ACTION REQUIRED.
At the bottom was a supervisor's signature.
Vanessa Sterling.
Dominic looked at Mrs. Bell. "Why was she reviewing staff complaints?"
"She told us you gave her authority."
"I never did."
Mrs. Bell lowered her eyes. "We believed her."
He closed the file gently. This house had operated for years on the assumption that nobody would dare claim his authority without permission. He had made that assumption more valuable than any formal control.
His phone buzzed.
A new message from Daniel contained a photograph of a torn paper label. On it was the name of a prescription product and a handwritten dosage note, which Dominic forwarded without attempting to interpret it.
Beneath the image was a location.
The old Romano boat house.
And a message:
COME WITHOUT VANESSA. I HAVE THE RECORDS. IF YOU BRING THE WRONG PEOPLE, THEY'LL BURN THEM.
Dominic stared at the words.
The boat house had been closed since his younger brother, Matteo, died in a boating accident nine years earlier. It was a place his father never visited and Dominic had spent years avoiding.
He looked toward the hospital's number on his phone and made a decision that would have been unthinkable the week before.
He would not go alone.
May you like
Before leaving his office, Dominic opened the calendar for the canceled reception. The guest list included donors who had supported Antonio's foundation for decades, trustees who knew the family finances, and a handful of developers who had never shown any interest in elder care until the waterfront became valuable. He remembered Vanessa explaining that people could be persuaded to do almost anything over an elegant dinner. He had thought she meant fundraising. Now he wondered how many conversations in his house had been arranged to keep the most important person out of the room: Antonio himself. The idea left him more ashamed than angry. His father had built the foundation, yet his voice was being treated as a problem to manage.
He called the investigators first.
