Chapter 16 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW HIS FIRST NAME
Three years after Caitlyn Elmore stopped being afraid of Damian Hamilton, another woman walked into her office and called him by a name Caitlyn had never heard before.
“Dominic.”
Caitlyn looked up from the grant proposal in front of her.
The woman stood just inside the doorway of the Elmore Foundation office.
Mid-forties.
Dark wool coat.
Black leather gloves.
No appointment.
No visitor badge.
And somehow Marco’s security team had allowed her onto the twenty-eighth floor.
Caitlyn slowly set down her pen.
“I think you have the wrong office.”
The woman smiled.
“No.”
Her eyes moved toward the glass wall separating Caitlyn’s office from Damian’s executive suite twenty-seven steps away.
“I have exactly the right one.”
Caitlyn reached beneath her desk and pressed the silent security button Damian had insisted on installing.
Nothing happened.
No vibration.
No light.
That bothered her more than the stranger.
“What do you want?”
The woman stepped forward and placed a yellow envelope on Caitlyn’s desk.
“I want you to understand what your husband buried before he became the man you married.”
Caitlyn didn’t touch it.
“My husband has buried enough things.”
“Yes.”
The woman’s smile disappeared.
“Most of them were people.”
Caitlyn’s jaw tightened.
“Leave.”
“I will.”
The woman turned.
Then stopped.
“Ask him about August seventeenth.”
Caitlyn stared at her.
“What year?”
The woman looked back.
“Two thousand nineteen.”
Her expression softened in a way Caitlyn liked even less.
“And when Damian tells you he doesn’t remember, ask why twelve people disappeared from Pier Forty-One that night.”
Then she walked out.
Caitlyn immediately stood.
“Marco!”
The office door opened thirty seconds later.
Marco entered with two security officers behind him.
“What happened?”
“The woman who just left.”
Marco frowned.
“What woman?”
Caitlyn stared at him.
“She walked past you.”
“No one came through this floor.”
Caitlyn’s stomach dropped.
She pointed toward the envelope.
“She was standing right there.”
Marco’s expression changed.
“Don’t touch it.”
He moved quickly.
Gloves.
Photographs.
Security cameras.
Access logs.
Within five minutes, the entire floor was locked down.
Damian came through the corridor without his jacket.
He found Caitlyn standing beside the window.
“What happened?”
She turned toward him.
For three years, Damian had become easier to read.
Not easy.
Never easy.
But Caitlyn knew the tiny things now.
The slight narrowing of his eyes when he was calculating.
The stillness in his shoulders when he was angry.
The way his right hand closed when he was afraid.
She watched all three happen when Marco said the date.
August 17, 2019.
Damian went completely silent.
Caitlyn felt something cold settle inside her.
“So you remember.”
Damian looked at her.
“Who gave you that date?”
“The woman you apparently never told me about.”
“What woman?”
Caitlyn described her.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
Scar beneath the left ear.
Damian’s face lost color.
Marco noticed.
So did Caitlyn.
“Damian.”
He walked to the desk.
“Open the envelope.”
Marco did.
Inside were three photographs.
The first showed a younger Damian standing at a dock at night.
The second showed a warehouse burning.
The third showed twelve men and women lined against a concrete wall.
Caitlyn looked closer.
One of them was the woman who had just visited her office.
Younger.
Terrified.
Alive.
Someone had written across the bottom in black ink.
ONLY ONE OF US SURVIVED.
Caitlyn looked at Damian.
“Who is she?”
Damian did not answer.
“Damian.”
His voice came low.
“Her name is Rebecca Vale.”
“And who is Dominic?”
Silence.
“Damian.”
He looked at the photograph.
“My father called me that.”
Caitlyn’s eyebrows pulled together.
“Why?”
“Because Damian Hamilton didn’t officially exist until I was sixteen.”
The room went quiet.
Even Marco looked surprised.
Caitlyn stared at her husband.
“What does that mean?”
Damian moved toward the window.
“My father changed my identity.”
“From what?”
“Dominic Vale.”
Caitlyn looked back at the woman in the photograph.
Vale.
Rebecca Vale.
She suddenly understood why Damian had gone pale.
“Is she your sister?”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly.
Caitlyn folded her arms.
“You promised me truth at our wedding.”
“I know.”
“Then start giving me some.”
Damian turned around.
“Rebecca was my father’s accountant.”
“That doesn’t explain your name.”
“No.”
“Or twelve missing people.”
“No.”
“Or why someone bypassed Marco’s security and walked into my office.”
Damian’s eyes moved toward Marco.
“Shut down everything connected to the foundation.”
Caitlyn stepped forward.
“No.”
Damian looked at her.
“No?”
“You don’t get to turn my organization into a bunker because something from your past walked through my door.”
“It walked through your door because of me.”
“Then tell me why.”
Damian hesitated.
That hesitation hurt more than Caitlyn expected.
She whispered, “There’s more.”
“Yes.”
“How much more?”
His phone rang.
Marco checked the screen first.
His expression hardened.
“It’s Noah.”
Caitlyn immediately reached for it.
“Noah?”
Static.
Then her brother’s voice.
“Cait?”
He sounded breathless.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think someone’s in my apartment.”
Caitlyn froze.
Damian was already moving.
“Lock yourself in the bathroom,” he ordered.
“No.”
“Noah—”
“I’m not hiding in a bathroom again.”
A crash sounded through the phone.
Caitlyn’s heart slammed.
“Noah!”
Footsteps.
A door opened.
Then silence.
“Noah?”
Another voice came through.
Female.
Calm.
Rebecca Vale.
“Now you understand, Caitlyn.”
Damian snatched the phone.
“If you touch him—”
Rebecca laughed softly.
“Dominic.”
Damian went still.
“You should have known this day would come.”
The call ended.
Caitlyn looked at her husband.
“What happened on August seventeenth?”
Damian stared at the dead phone.
And when he finally answered, his voice sounded like the man she had once been terrified to touch.
“My father ordered twelve people killed.”
Caitlyn’s breath stopped.
May you like
Damian looked at her.
“And I was the one who gave him their names.”
