Chapter 3 - THE MAN IN THE FAMILY PHOTOGRAPH
Dominic did not fire me.
He also didn't send a driver to follow me home, though I checked every car behind my bus twice.
The next morning, Mrs. Bell, the estate manager, handed me a sealed envelope.
“Mr. Valenti asked me to give you this.”
Inside was a schedule. My hours had been adjusted so I could collect Sophie from preschool. My pay had increased, and the staff room had been turned into a small playroom with a low table, picture books, and a basket of toys.
There was a note at the bottom.
No conditions. No obligation. You and Sophie deserve a safe place while you work. —D.V.
I hated how much the gesture moved me.
That afternoon, I found Dominic in the library.
He stood beside a tall shelf, holding an old photograph. He looked up when I entered.
“I want to show you something.”
“I have work.”
“This will take a minute.”
He turned the frame toward me.
It showed Dominic as a boy, perhaps eight years old, standing beside a woman with kind eyes and dark hair. She had one arm around him and the other around a little girl.
“Who are they?”
“My mother and my sister, Lucia.”
I recognized the crescent mark below Lucia's ear.
My breath caught.
Dominic saw my expression.
“Lucia had the same birthmark as me. It runs in our family.”
I looked away.
“Lots of people have birthmarks.”
“Not shaped exactly like that.”
He set the photograph down.
“My mother died when I was young. Lucia was the only person who could make me laugh after that. She used to say the Valenti men were born with stone in their chests.”
“Sounds familiar.”
His mouth twitched, but the smile faded.
“She died eleven years ago. After that, I stopped letting people close.”
I hadn't known the details. When I had known Dominic, he had been guarded but not empty. There had been warmth in him, hidden beneath the power.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because when Sophie touched my face, I remembered Lucia.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“She's not your sister's replacement.”
“I know.” His voice was firm. “She's herself. I don't want her to carry anyone else's shadow.”
That answer surprised me.
He opened a drawer and removed a small velvet box. Inside was a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon.
“My mother gave this to Lucia. I kept it after she died.”
“I can't accept that.”
“It's not for you. I thought Sophie might like it, if you approve.”
I closed the box.
“She doesn't need jewelry. She needs stability.”
“Then I'll offer that.”
“Stability isn't something you buy.”
“No,” he said. “It's something you prove.”
For the first time, I believed he understood the difference.
Before I could respond, Dominic's phone rang. He checked the screen and his expression changed.
“Raffaele.”
He answered.
“Uncle.”
A man's voice boomed through the speaker. “I hear you have a new little visitor at the house.”
Dominic's face became unreadable.
“Who told you that?”
“People talk. A child in the corridor. A cleaning woman. Very unusual.”
I felt cold.
Dominic ended the call.
“Who is Raffaele?” I asked.
“My uncle. He manages the family’s business interests.”
“Does he know about Sophie?”
“He knows someone saw her. He doesn't know the truth.”
“Then keep it that way.”
Dominic looked toward the door.
“I intend to.”
But his phone rang again.
This time, the message contained a photograph.
Sophie was leaving preschool.
The caption read:
May you like
A pretty little girl. It would be a shame if she inherited the wrong enemies.
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