Chapter 7 - The Man Wearing the Ring.
Dominic Moretti looked nothing like a villain.
That was the first thing I noticed.
He was in his late forties, tall, silver beginning to show at his temples, with the relaxed posture of a man who had never needed to hurry for anyone.
His dark overcoat was dusted with snow.
Ethan's blue scarf hung from one hand.
The silver ring on his finger caught the hallway light.
Vincent stepped toward him.
"Where is my son?"
Dominic's expression barely changed.
"Safe."
Vincent moved so quickly Julian had to step between them.
Detective Torres raised one hand.
"Nobody moves."
Dominic looked past everyone and found me.
His face softened in a way I immediately distrusted.
"Lily Hart."
My hand tightened around my mother's letter.
"You know me."
"I knew your mother."
"That's not what I said."
A faint smile touched his mouth.
"You sound like Elena."
Vincent's voice cut through the room.
"Where is Ethan?"
Dominic lifted the scarf.
"Marcus took him."
"You expect me to believe you happened to find this?"
"No."
Dominic looked at Torres.
"I expect the detective to verify that Marcus called me forty minutes ago."
Torres held out her hand.
"Phone."
Dominic handed it over without protest.
"He said he had Ethan and wanted a vehicle."
"Why call you?" Torres asked.
"Because Marcus believes I can protect him from Vincent."
Vincent laughed without humor.
"Can you?"
Dominic ignored him.
"I told Marcus I would meet him."
"Where?"
"He changed the location twice."
"And the scarf?"
"It was left at the second location."
Torres examined it.
"Could be staged."
"Of course it could."
Dominic's calmness made me angry.
"My mother said you're the person I should fear."
That finally changed him.
Not much.
His eyes narrowed by a fraction.
"Did she?"
I held up the letter.
"In her own handwriting."
Dominic looked at Vincent.
"So you opened the box."
Vincent stared at him.
"How did you know the box was here?"
Dominic paused.
One second too long.
Then he smiled.
"Because Isabella told more than one person about it."
Sofia stepped forward.
"That's a lie."
Dominic looked at her.
"Hello, Sofia."
"Don't hello me."
She pointed at the scarf.
"You knew Elena was leaving."
"Yes."
"You knew about Lily."
"Yes."
"And you spent seven years keeping her hidden."
Dominic's gaze returned to me.
"I spent seven years making sure nobody used her."
I almost laughed.
"I slept behind a bus depot last month."
His expression flickered.
"I didn't know where you were."
"Funny how everybody keeps saying that."
"It's true."
"Then why was somebody following me before I found Ethan?"
Dominic glanced at Julian.
"Was there?"
"We have footage," Julian said.
"Of me?"
"Of a man matching your height and build."
Dominic lifted his hands slightly.
"That's not evidence."
"Neither is your story," Torres said.
She handed his phone to another officer.
"You're staying until we confirm it."
Dominic nodded.
"Fine."
That bothered me.
A guilty man should have looked nervous.
But maybe men like Dominic had practiced not looking nervous their entire lives.
My mother's letter trembled in my hand.
Dominic noticed.
"Elena was afraid when she wrote that."
"She was afraid of you."
"She was afraid of what the truth would do to you."
"What truth?"
Vincent stepped between us.
"Not now."
I stared at him.
"Stop deciding when I get answers."
"Ethan comes first."
I hated him for being right.
Torres's phone rang.
She answered.
Everyone watched her face.
"Yes."
She listened.
"Send the address."
She ended the call.
"The call to Dominic was real."
Vincent's eyes shifted.
Dominic said nothing.
"Marcus's phone pinged near an old Moretti Group warehouse on the Hudson."
Julian frowned.
"That building has been empty for two years."
Torres looked at Vincent.
"You are not coming."
"That's my son."
"Which is why you are staying here instead of turning a rescue into a confrontation."
"Detective."
"No."
Her voice was sharp.
"If Marcus has a child, the last thing I need is the father he may be terrified of walking through the door."
Vincent's hands clenched.
For three seconds, I thought he might refuse.
Then he nodded.
"Bring him home."
Torres left with four officers.
The house became unbearably quiet.
Vincent stood at a window.
Sofia sat on the sofa.
Julian kept checking his phone.
Dominic remained under guard near the doorway.
I sat with my mother's letter.
Twenty minutes passed.
Thirty.
Forty.
Nobody spoke.
Then Vincent's phone rang.
He answered before the first ring ended.
"Yes."
His shoulders dropped.
Only slightly.
"Is he hurt?"
He listened.
"Put him on."
A second later, Vincent's entire face changed.
"Ethan."
He closed his eyes.
"I know."
"You're not in trouble."
Another pause.
"I love you too."
He ended the call.
Sofia stood.
"They found him?"
Vincent nodded.
"Alive."
I felt my knees weaken.
"Marcus?"
"Gone."
Julian looked at Dominic.
Dominic spread his hands.
"I told you I didn't take him."
Vincent ignored him.
"Ethan said Marcus left ten minutes before police arrived."
"Why?"
"He told Ethan someone had betrayed him."
Julian frowned.
"Who?"
Vincent looked at Dominic.
"He wouldn't say."
Two hours later, Ethan returned in an ambulance.
He was exhausted but unhurt beyond the injuries he already had.
I met him in the foyer.
He reached for me before he reached for anyone else.
I dropped to my knees and hugged him.
"You scared me."
"Sorry."
"Don't ever do that again."
"I didn't choose it."
"I know."
Vincent stood behind us.
His eyes were wet again.
Ethan reached one hand toward him.
Vincent joined us on the floor.
For a moment, the feared Moretti family looked like nothing more than a father, a little boy, and a girl who did not belong anywhere.
Then Ethan whispered into my shoulder.
"Marcus said your mom saved my mom."
I pulled back.
"What?"
Vincent froze.
"What exactly did he say?"
Ethan looked confused.
"He said Aunt Isabella would have died sooner if Elena hadn't warned her."
Dominic was still in the room.
I looked at him.
He looked away.
"He also said something else," Ethan continued.
"What?"
"He said the real proof isn't in the blue box."
My heart started pounding.
"Where is it?"
"He said Lily already had it once."
I stared at him.
"I don't understand."
Ethan frowned, trying to remember.
"He said your mother hid it in the one thing nobody would steal from a homeless kid."
I thought of everything I had carried through shelters, subway stations, and winter nights.
My backpack.
My clothes.
A photograph of Mom.
A bent spoon.
A paperback book.
Then I remembered something I had thrown away three months earlier.
My mother's old red winter coat.
The lining had been torn.
I had finally abandoned it after the zipper broke.
I looked at Vincent.
"I know what he meant."
"What?"
"My mother's coat."
Dominic's head snapped toward me.
May you like
That reaction told me everything.
He knew too.
