Chapter 5
PART 5
The charity gala was held in downtown San Diego beneath chandeliers bright enough to make every lie sparkle.
Dominic did not want Vivian to attend. Elena knew that the moment she saw him standing outside Vivian’s room with his jaw tight and his hands clenched.
But rumors had been spreading.
Vivian Cross was unstable. Vivian Cross had lost her mind. Vivian Cross could not legally manage her inheritance. Vivian Cross’s shares in the Cross shipping empire needed “outside supervision.”
A court review was scheduled in two weeks.
If Vivian appeared calm, steady, and herself, the rumors would weaken.
So Dominic asked instead of ordered.
Vivian agreed on one condition.
“Elena comes with me.”
That was how Elena Brooks, who owned exactly one decent dress from a clearance rack, found herself standing before a mirror in a midnight-blue gown Dominic had sent to her room.
She hated how exposed she felt.
Not because the dress was revealing. It wasn’t. It was elegant, simple, and probably cost more than she earned in three months at the bakery.
She hated that she would enter a room full of people trained to measure women in inches, diamonds, and bloodlines.
Dominic appeared in the doorway.
“You look like you’re preparing for execution,” he said.
“Worse. Rich people.”
His mouth curved faintly.
Then his eyes moved over her, not with hunger, not with judgment, but with something that made her feel seen in a way she was not ready for.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
Elena looked away. “You don’t have to be kind.”
“I’m rarely kind.”
That made her laugh despite herself.
Dominic stepped closer. “They will look at you and wonder why you’re there. Let them. You jumped into freezing water for a stranger. There isn’t a person in that ballroom worth more than that.”
Elena’s eyes stung.
At the gala, Vivian held Elena’s hand tightly. Cameras flashed. Women whispered. Men watched Dominic with careful smiles.
Then Victor Rourke arrived.
Elena knew him instantly by the way the air changed.
Victor was older, silver-haired, charming, and poisonous. He ran the rival shipping syndicate from Los Angeles. Publicly, he owned hotels and medical centers. Privately, he wanted the Cross ports.
He approached Vivian with a smile.
“My dear Vivian,” he said. “How brave of you to appear after such a fragile episode.”
Vivian stiffened.
Elena stepped between them.
“She’s doing well,” Elena said. “And she doesn’t need pity dressed as concern.”
Victor looked at her as if noticing furniture had spoken.
“And you are?”
Dominic’s hand settled on Elena’s shoulder.
“Family,” he said coldly.
The word moved through Elena like a shock.
Victor smiled wider, but his eyes sharpened.
“Then protect your family carefully, Dominic. Some conditions worsen quickly.”
He left.
Elena watched him cross the ballroom and speak briefly with Dr. Vale.
The doctor’s face went white.
Pieces locked together in Elena’s mind.
The pills. The phone call. The trust hearing. Victor Rourke’s interest in Vivian’s mental state.
That night, after they returned home, Vivian had a panic attack.
She had been fine at dinner. Tired, yes, but lucid. Then the nurse brought her evening medication, and within thirty minutes she was trembling, gasping, eyes unfocused.
Dr. Vale arrived with suspicious speed.
“I have an emergency sedative,” she said, pulling a syringe and a small pill from her case.
Elena saw the pill.
Different color. Different shape.
“No,” Elena said.
Dr. Vale froze. “Move aside.”
“What is that?”
“A stabilizer.”
“Then why isn’t it on her chart?”
The doctor’s mouth opened.
Elena snatched the pill from her hand.
Dr. Vale’s mask cracked completely.
“Give that back.”
“Who told you to keep her weak?” Elena demanded. “Rourke?”
The doctor staggered as if struck.
Vivian sobbed behind Elena, clinging to the bedsheets.
Dr. Vale covered her face.
“My daughter is dying,” she whispered. “He said he could get her into the Zurich trial. He said he’d pay for everything if I just… kept Vivian dependent until the hearing.”
Elena felt sick.
Dr. Vale confessed through tears. Under the Cross family trust, if Vivian was declared mentally incapacitated, her voting shares would transfer temporarily to a medical management board. Victor Rourke had already bought two members.
He did not need to kill Vivian.
He only needed to make her legally disappear.
Before Elena could call Dominic, the mansion lights went out.
A second later, vehicles rolled into the courtyard.
Men in medical uniforms entered with court papers, forged signatures, and a private transfer order.
They had come to take Vivian.
Elena stood in front of the girl.
“No one touches her.”
The lead man smiled. “You’re a paid companion. Move.”
Elena fought. She screamed. She bit one man’s hand hard enough to draw blood.
But there were too many.
They tore Vivian from her arms and dragged her down the stairs.
Dr. Vale stood shaking in the hallway, too broken to stop what she had helped begin.
Elena hit the marble floor hard.
By the time Dominic returned from the port, Vivian was gone.
Elena ran to him, bruised and breathless.
“Rourke took her,” she said. “He’s going to make her vanish.”
Dominic’s face became terrifyingly still.
“Where?”
Elena held up the stolen pill, the hidden evidence, and Dr. Vale’s confession recorded on her phone.
“The harbor,” she said. “He wants it to look like she jumped again.”
For one second, Dominic Cross looked less like a mafia boss and more like a brother losing his only family.
Then he reached for his gun.
Elena grabbed his wrist.
“We save her first,” she said. “Revenge later.”
May you like
Dominic looked at her.
Then he nodded.
