Chapter 6 - The Black Envelope
Penelope stared at the envelope.
“You put that there?”
Dominic shook his head.
“No.”
“It says it’s from you.”
“I can read.”
“You’re remarkably calm about somebody planting mysterious correspondence in your name.”
“I’m not calm.”
“You look calm.”
“That has kept me alive.”
Catherine closed the door.
“Don’t touch it.”
Penelope looked at her.
“Why?”
“Could be wired.”
Penelope stared.
“To explode?”
“Possibly.”
She stepped back immediately.
“Finally, advice I’m happy to follow.”
Dominic examined the safe without touching the envelope.
“No trigger wire.”
“You can tell?”
“Yes.”
“Another family tradition?”
“No.”
He used a pen to lift the envelope.
Nothing happened.
Inside was a document.
A marriage contract.
Penelope blinked.
Then laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because the alternative was screaming.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Dominic took the document.
His expression darkened.
At the top:
AGREEMENT OF PROTECTION THROUGH CIVIL UNION
Between Dominic Alessandro Moretti and Penelope Eleanor Hayes.
Her full legal name.
Current address.
Social Security digits partly redacted.
Financial terms.
Security provisions.
Inheritance clauses.
And one astonishing section granting Penelope controlling authority over something called the Santoro Trust upon marriage.
She looked at Dominic.
“You drafted this?”
“No.”
“Your lawyers?”
“No.”
“Then why does it look like something your lawyers would draft?”
“Because whoever created it had access to my legal templates.”
Catherine looked over his shoulder.
“This clause.”
She pointed.
Dominic read.
His jaw tightened.
“What?”
Penelope demanded.
“The Santoro Trust.”
“What is it?”
“Your father’s money.”
Penelope laughed again.
“My father repaired air conditioners.”
“Your father owned thirty percent of several port operations through hidden companies.”
She stopped laughing.
“How much?”
Dominic hesitated.
“Currently?”
“Yes.”
“Approximately two hundred forty million.”
Penelope stared at him.
Catherine cleared her throat.
“Possibly more.”
Penelope sat.
“Of course.”
Dominic watched her.
“Are you all right?”
“No. But apparently I’m rich, so perhaps I can hire someone to be all right for me.”
Catherine smiled despite herself.
Penelope pointed at the contract.
“Why would marriage give me control?”
Dominic flipped pages.
“The trust was structured when Gabriel disappeared. It requires either confirmation of his death or…”
He stopped.
“Or what?”
“Marriage to a trustee.”
Penelope’s eyes narrowed.
“Who is the trustee?”
Dominic looked at her.
“I am.”
Silence.
Then Penelope stood.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You knew about the trust.”
“Yes.”
“You knew marrying me would transfer control.”
“No.”
“How could you be trustee and not know?”
“The trust was sealed. My father handled it. I became successor trustee automatically after his death.”
Penelope stared at him.
“Your father knew my father.”
“Yes.”
“And my grandfather.”
“Yes.”
“And Vincent’s father.”
“Yes.”
“Were there any men in New York who were not secretly connected?”
“A few.”
“Wonderful.”
Catherine studied the contract.
“This explains the announcement.”
Penelope turned.
“What?”
“If someone needed Penelope married to Dominic, tonight created the narrative.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“I made that statement because Vincent was escalating.”
“Or someone wanted you to.”
Penelope felt a chill.
The dinner invitation.
Vincent’s insults.
The slap.
Dominic’s public declaration.
Had someone engineered all of it?
Even her anger?
No.
The slap had been hers.
Completely.
She refused to surrender that.
Dominic read deeper.
“This contract is dated six weeks ago.”
Penelope looked up.
“Before my mother died.”
“No. Eleanor died nine months ago.”
“Right.”
Time had become slippery.
“Then someone has been planning this for at least six weeks.”
Catherine pointed to a signature page.
Dominic’s name was already signed.
Penelope’s blood went cold.
“Is that your signature?”
He examined it.
“Yes.”
“You signed this?”
“No.”
“It looks real.”
“It is real.”
“That makes no sense.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“Digital signature authorization.”
“What?”
“My office uses secure signature tokens.”
“So someone in your office accessed yours.”
“Or cloned it.”
Catherine looked concerned.
“Inside man.”
Carlo’s warning.
Dominic pulled out his phone.
“Signal’s back.”
He called someone.
“Freeze all legal systems. Every token. Every transfer. Now.”
A pause.
“Because I said so.”
He ended the call.
Penelope looked at the contract again.
“Why would someone want us married?”
Dominic answered.
“To transfer control of the trust.”
“To me.”
“Yes.”
“But if I control it, how does that help them?”
Dominic turned pages.
“Unless…”
He stopped.
Catherine leaned in.
There.
A clause.
In the event of Penelope’s death within one year of marriage, trust assets revert to trustee control.
Penelope read it twice.
“Oh.”
Dominic’s face became ice.
Catherine whispered, “Someone wants her married.”
“And then dead,” Penelope finished.
The room became very quiet.
Dominic folded the contract.
“We leave.”
“Where?”
“My secure residence.”
“Your house wasn’t particularly secure.”
“A different residence.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I find my father.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“Someone is planning your death.”
“Apparently that has been a family hobby for decades.”
“This is not a joke.”
“I know.”
“Then act like it.”
Penelope’s eyes flashed.
“Do not speak to me like I’m a child.”
“Then stop making reckless decisions.”
“Reckless?”
“You came here.”
“You came with me.”
“To keep you alive.”
“I did not ask you to.”
“No. Your mother did.”
That stopped her.
“What?”
Dominic removed the old letter from his jacket.
He pointed near the bottom.
She had not finished reading.
There was another paragraph.
Dominic,
If I am gone and this reaches Penny, protect her even when she hates you for it. Especially then. She has Gabriel’s courage and my refusal to listen. God help you.
Penelope stared.
Her mother’s handwriting blurred.
She turned away.
For a moment, none of the danger mattered.
She missed Eleanor so much that breathing hurt.
Dominic did not touch her.
For that, she was grateful.
After a long silence, Penelope said, “I still decide where I go.”
“Yes.”
“But you can come.”
Dominic nodded.
Catherine folded her arms.
“How generous.”
“You too.”
“Even more generous.”
They left the room.
On the stairwell, Dominic’s phone rang.
His security chief at the house.
Carlo had survived surgery.
Two guards dead.
One employee missing.
“Who?” Dominic asked.
He listened.
Then stopped walking.
Penelope turned.
“What?”
Dominic ended the call.
“My attorney.”
“The one with access to your signature token?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“Michael Arden.”
Catherine went pale.
Penelope noticed.
“You know him.”
Catherine’s voice dropped.
“I know his father.”
“Let me guess. Another charming piece of family history.”
“His father worked for Samuel Vale.”
Penelope sighed.
“Of course he did.”
They exited through the alley.
Dominic stopped.
His SUV was gone.
In its place sat a black vintage Cadillac.
Engine running.
Driver’s door open.
No driver.
On the hood lay a bouquet of white roses.
Penelope approached cautiously.
Attached was a card.
WELCOME BACK TO THE FAMILY, PENELOPE.
She flipped it over.
A Manhattan address.
She recognized it.
Vale Tower.
Her supposed grandfather’s former headquarters.
Below the address:
TOP FLOOR. 1 A.M.
COME WITH DOMINIC IF YOU WANT.
HE WON’T LEAVE ALIVE.
Dominic read it.
“We’re not going.”
Penelope looked at him.
“Yes, we are.”
He shook his head.
“Absolutely not.”
She pointed toward the Cadillac.
“Whoever is doing this knows where we are, what we’ve read, what my mother wrote, what your lawyers use, where my father is, and apparently what car makes the most dramatic entrance.”
Catherine nodded.
“She has a point.”
Dominic glared at her.
“You are not helping.”
Penelope opened the passenger door.
“I’m going to Vale Tower.”
Dominic stepped in front of her.
“No.”
She looked up at him.
“You told Vincent I was your future wife.”
“That was tactical.”
“Then consider this our first marital disagreement.”
His mouth twitched.
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she saw movement reflected in the Cadillac window.
Someone across the alley.
A man.
Older.
Gray coat.
Broken gold watch.
Penelope spun around.
“Dad!”
The man ran.
Penelope sprinted after him.
Dominic shouted her name.
She turned the corner.
The street was empty.
Except for one open doorway.
Inside the dark entrance, someone whispered:
“Penny.”
She stepped forward.
A hand reached from the darkness.
May you like
And this time, she recognized the scar across its knuckles.
Her father’s hand.
