Chapter 11 - THE TRAITOR IN THE RANKS
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From a secure line in Italy, Elena Rossi’s voice carried the sharp, unforgiving authority of a seasoned magistrate.
“Clare, listen to me carefully,” Elena said in crisp, elegant Italian. “Vanessa Cole is ambitious, but she is also deeply paranoid. Three hours ago, Dominic transferred twelve million dollars from Callahan Maritime into a private vault in Zurich—the exact same vault linked to the medical clinic where he intended to isolate your son.”
“He told her the money was for their future,” I said, guessing the truth instantly.
“Dominic told her it was for their shell company,” Elena corrected. “In reality, the vault is registered under Dominic’s name alone. Vanessa’s signature appears nowhere on the ownership documents. He used her digital signature to authorize the transfer, making her criminally liable for grand embezzlement while keeping the money entirely for himself.”
I looked at Marcus, a cold, bitter smile touching my lips. “Dominic isn't loyal to anyone. Not even the woman helping him destroy me.”
“Vanessa is currently staying at the Mercer Hotel in Soho,” Marcus said, pulling the sedan over near the Brooklyn waterfront. “Dominic thinks she’s securing the press releases for tomorrow’s announcement about your 'psychiatric emergency.'”
“If I show her the Swiss vault ownership documents,” I said, feeling a surge of quiet power return to my chest, “she’ll realize Dominic is preparing to throw her away the exact same way he planned to throw me away.”
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“It’s a dangerous play, Clare,” Marcus warned, turning in his seat to look at me. “You’re seven months pregnant, and Dominic’s men are scouring Manhattan.”
“Vanessa doesn't consider me a threat,” I said softly, touching the heavy curve of my stomach. “She thinks I’m a helpless toy who doesn't understand Italian. That arrogance is the only weapon I need.”
