“Chloe, don’t look toward your window.”

Dominic’s voice was so quiet that it frightened me more than shouting ever could.

I froze beside the kitchen table.

“What?”

“Step away from the window. Slowly.”

I glanced toward the three black SUVs parked outside my apartment building.

One of the men standing beside the nearest vehicle had disappeared.

My heart began pounding.

“Dominic, what’s happening?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a short message.

Seconds later, two of his bodyguards moved toward the entrance of my building.

“Someone is watching this apartment,” he finally said.

“Who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

I swallowed.

“Is it the person who poisoned you?”

Dominic looked directly at me.

“Possibly.”

“Then why are you bringing all these people here? You’re making me a target!”

His expression softened slightly.

“Chloe, you became a target the moment you saved my life.”

I stared at him.

“I didn’t ask to be involved in your world.”

“I know.”

“Then why can’t you just leave me alone?”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Dominic looked genuinely uncomfortable.

“Because the people who tried to kill me believe you know something.”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know anything!”

“Maybe not. But someone thinks you do.”

He reached into his jacket and placed another pH๏τograph on the table.

My stomach dropped.

It was a picture of me inside the restaurant, standing beside table four.

The timestamp showed 9:17 p.m.

Someone had taken it from across the dining room.

“Where did you get this?”

“One of my men recovered it from an anonymous message sent to my private number yesterday.”

I examined the pH๏τograph.

Then I noticed something.

Behind me, near the kitchen entrance, stood Richard.

He wasn’t looking at Dominic.

He was looking directly at me.

And he was holding something in his right hand.

A small silver case.

I leaned closer.

“That’s Richard.”

Dominic nodded.

“Your former manager?”

“Yes. But what’s he holding?”

Dominic took the pH๏τograph back.

“That’s what I want to know.”

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting inside Dominic’s SUV.

I hadn’t wanted to go anywhere with him.

But when one of his men showed me another pH๏τograph, my objections disappeared.

It showed my apartment building.

Taken that afternoon.

Someone had circled my bedroom window in red ink.

Underneath it were three handwritten words.

SHE KNOWS TOO MUCH.

I felt sick.

“Who sent that?”

“We’re investigating.”

“Could it be Richard?”

Dominic looked at me.

“Tell me everything you remember about that night.”

I closed my eyes.

The restaurant.

The music.

The expensive wine glᴀsses.

Richard’s strange instructions.

Nobody approaches table four without my permission.

Then Dominic’s sudden collapse.

And Richard grabbing my arm.

“Wait.”

I opened my eyes.

“Something happened before you collapsed.”

“What?”

“Richard personally brought your drink.”

Dominic’s expression changed.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes. I remember because he almost never served customers himself. He carried your glᴀss from the bar and placed it on your table.”

“Did you see him open the bottle?”

“No.”

“Did you see anyone else touch it?”

I thought carefully.

Then I remembered something.

“A woman.”

Dominic leaned forward.

“What woman?”

“She was sitting near the private dining room. Blonde hair, red dress. She approached the bar just before you arrived.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Describe her.”

“Maybe thirty-five. Tall. Very elegant. She spoke to Richard for a few seconds.”

Dominic became completely still.

“Did she touch anything?”

“I don’t know. But she handed him something.”

“What?”

“A folded piece of paper. I thought it was a reservation.”

Dominic exchanged a look with the man sitting in the front pᴀssenger seat.

“Find out who that woman is.”

“Yes, boss.”

I looked at Dominic.

“You know her, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he looked out the window.

And somehow, his silence was more frightening than anything he had said.

We arrived at a private estate outside Boston shortly before midnight.

I had expected something extravagant.

I hadn’t expected a mansion surrounded by armed guards, security cameras, and enormous iron gates.

Inside, a woman in her sixties approached Dominic.

“You’re late, Dominic.”

“Had an unexpected guest, Maria.”

Her eyes moved toward me.

“This is the girl?”

“Her name is Chloe.”

Maria gave me a warm but concerned smile.

“I’m Maria. I’ve known Dominic since he was a boy.”

I wasn’t sure what to say.

Dominic removed his jacket.

“Prepare the guest room. Chloe will be staying here tonight.”

I immediately shook my head.

“No. Absolutely not.”

He turned.

“Chloe—”

“I agreed to come here because someone was watching my apartment. I didn’t agree to move into a mafia mansion.”

One of the guards looked away, apparently trying not to smile.

Dominic rubbed his forehead.

“You’re remarkably difficult to protect.”

“And you’re remarkably accustomed to people doing whatever you tell them.”

Maria suddenly laughed.

It was the first time I’d seen anyone in Dominic’s presence behave as though he were an ordinary man.

“She has a point, sweetheart.”

Dominic gave her an irritated look.

“Not helping, Maria.”

She took my hand.

“Come along, dear. You look exhausted.”

For the first time in days, someone had spoken to me with genuine kindness.

I followed her upstairs.

But before I reached the staircase, Dominic called my name.

“Chloe.”

I turned.

“If you remember anything else about that night, no matter how insignificant it seems, tell me.”

I nodded.

Then he added something that made me stop.

“Especially if you remember anything about my brother.”

I frowned.

“Your brother?”

Dominic’s face became unreadable.

“Anthony Romano.”

I barely slept that night.

At around two in the morning, I went downstairs looking for water.

As I pᴀssed Dominic’s office, I heard voices.

The door was slightly open.

“She’s becoming a liability,” a man said.

I recognized the voice of the bodyguard who had accompanied Dominic to my apartment.

Dominic answered calmly.

“She’s the only person who saw the entire sequence of events.”

“Then we should move her somewhere else.”

“She’s not evidence in a box, Marco. She’s a person.”

The other man sighed.

“Boss, with all due respect, Anthony knows she’s here.”

I stopped breathing.

Anthony.

Dominic’s brother.

“What did he say?” Dominic asked.

“He called ten minutes ago. He wants to meet you tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“He says he has information about the poisoning.”

There was a long silence.

Then Marco spoke again.

“He also asked whether the waitress was still alive.”

My hand тιԍнтened around the glᴀss.

Dominic’s voice became dangerously cold.

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing.”

“Good. Because if my brother wants to know whether Chloe is alive, he can ask me directly.”

I backed away from the door.

My mind was racing.

Dominic had a brother.

His brother knew about me.

And apparently, he was interested in whether I was alive.

I returned upstairs as quietly as possible.

But I didn’t notice the shadow standing at the end of the hallway.

The following morning, Dominic found me sitting in the dining room.

A cup of coffee sat untouched in front of me.

He looked at my face.

“You didn’t sleep.”

“I heard your conversation.”

His expression changed.

“How much?”

“Enough.”

He pulled out the chair opposite me.

“Then I suppose we should talk.”

“Is your brother the person who poisoned you?”

Dominic stared at the table.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only honest answer I have.”

He leaned back.

“Anthony and I built our father’s business together after he died. We were inseparable for years. But as the organization expanded, we disagreed about how things should be run.”

“What kind of disagreements?”

“He wanted control. Complete control.”

“And you?”

“I wanted to keep certain boundaries.”

I studied his face.

“Such as?”

“Not involving innocent people. Not hurting people who had nothing to do with our business.”

He paused.

“Anthony believes those boundaries make me weak.”

I looked down at my coffee.

“Then why would he want you ᴅᴇᴀᴅ?”

Dominic’s jaw тιԍнтened.

“Because I recently discovered that someone inside my organization has been moving money through companies that don’t belong to us.”

“Someone is stealing from you?”

“Millions.”

“And you think your brother is responsible?”

“I think he knows more than he’s telling me.”

Before I could respond, Dominic’s phone rang.

He answered.

“What?”

A man’s voice came through the speaker.

“Boss, we’ve got something.”

Dominic stood.

“What is it?”

“We checked the restaurant’s security footage. The original recording was deleted, but our technician recovered a backup.”

“Show me.”

“There’s one problem.”

“What problem?”

“The footage shows someone entering the private dining room twenty minutes before you collapsed.”

Dominic’s expression darkened.

“Who?”

The man hesitated.

Then he said:

“Your brother, boss.”

Dominic played the recovered footage on a large screen in his office.

I stood behind him, watching the grainy recording.

At first, there was nothing unusual.

Customers entering.

Waiters carrying trays.

Richard walking between tables.

Then, at 8:52 p.m., a man in a dark overcoat entered through the restaurant’s rear entrance.

He glanced around before disappearing into the private dining room.

The camera angle wasn’t perfect.

But when he turned toward the hallway, I recognized his face.

It was the man I’d seen standing near Richard that evening.

“That’s him,” I whispered.

Dominic turned.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes. He was there that night.”

The footage continued.

At 9:03 p.m., Richard entered the private dining room carrying a small silver case.

He stayed inside for approximately two minutes.

When he came out, he was holding nothing.

At 9:17 p.m., Dominic collapsed.

I covered my mouth.

“Richard knew.”

Dominic stared at the screen.

“Apparently.”

Then another figure appeared.

A woman in a red dress.

She walked into the room and placed something on the table.

Dominic paused the recording.

He zoomed in.

The woman’s face became clearer.

His expression changed so dramatically that I immediately noticed.

“Who is she?”

He didn’t answer.

I looked at the screen again.

Then I noticed a small detail.

A diamond necklace.

A distinctive necklace with a teardrop-shaped emerald.

“Dominic?”

He slowly turned toward me.

“That woman is my brother’s wife.”

I stared at him.

“Your sister-in-law?”

He nodded.

“Isabella Romano.”

I stepped backward.

“Why would your brother’s wife be involved?”

Dominic looked at the frozen image.

“Because she was supposed to be in London that night.”

His phone suddenly rang again.

This time, the caller’s name appeared on the screen.

ANTHONY ROMANO.

Dominic answered and placed the call on speaker.

“Anthony.”

His brother’s voice sounded unusually cheerful.

“Dominic. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Dominic said nothing.

Anthony continued.

“I heard you’ve been making some interesting new friends.”

My stomach тιԍнтened.

Then came the sentence that made my blood run cold.

“Tell the little waitress I said thank you.”

Dominic’s eyes turned murderous.

“What did you just say?”

Anthony chuckled.

“You heard me. If she hadn’t saved you, we’d have had a much easier time explaining your death.”

Dominic slowly clenched his fist.

“You’re responsible?”

“Careful, brother. Accusations are dangerous things.”

“Why?”

“Because you might discover that the people closest to you have been keeping secrets.”

There was a pause.

Then Anthony spoke again.

“By the way, I wouldn’t let Chloe wander around that mansion alone.”

My heart stopped.

“Why?” Dominic demanded.

Anthony laughed softly.

“Because your little waitress has no idea what her mother did twenty-seven years ago.”

The call ended.

I stared at Dominic.

My mouth had gone completely dry.

“My mother?”

Dominic looked at me.

For the first time since I’d met him, he appeared genuinely shocked.

“Chloe, what was your mother’s name?”

I swallowed.

“Elizabeth Henderson.”

He went completely still.

Then he opened a locked drawer in his desk and removed an old pH๏τograph.

It showed two young men standing beside an elegant woman outside a Boston restaurant.

Dominic pointed to the woman.

“Is this your mother?”

I looked at the pH๏τograph.

My knees nearly gave way.

It was unmistakably Elizabeth.

But the pH๏τograph had been taken twenty-seven years earlier.

And standing beside her was a much younger version of Dominic’s father.

I looked up.

“How did my mother know your family?”

Dominic slowly placed the pH๏τograph on the desk.

“Because, Chloe, your mother wasn’t just someone who worked for my father.”

He paused.

“She was the last person who knew what happened to my older sister.”

I stared at him.

“Your older sister?”

Dominic nodded.

“She disappeared twenty-seven years ago. Everyone believed she was ᴅᴇᴀᴅ.”

He looked down at the pH๏τograph again.

“And your mother was the only person who refused to believe it.”

Before I could ask another question, Marco burst into the office.

“Boss!”

Dominic turned sharply.

“What?”

“We just received a message from an unknown number.”

“Show me.”

Marco handed him a phone.

There was a pH๏τograph of my apartment.

My old bedroom.

The curtains were open.

And someone had placed a handwritten note on my pillow.

Dominic read it aloud.

“YOU SAVED THE WRONG ROMANO. NOW ASK YOUR MOTHER’S DAUGHTER WHAT SHE WAS PROMISED.”

I felt the room spinning.

My mother had been ᴅᴇᴀᴅ for three years.

Whatever secret she had carried was buried with her.

Or so I had believed.

Then Dominic looked at me and asked the one question I had never expected to hear.

“Chloe, did your mother ever tell you that you were adopted?”

I couldn’t move.

Because there was something I had never told anyone.

Something written in a letter my mother had left inside her old jewelry box.

A letter I had never understood.

And suddenly, I remembered its final sentence:

If anyone named Romano ever comes looking for you, don’t trust them—not even if they tell you who you really are.

To be continued — PART 3.