PART 2.
Marco went completely still when he saw the name written beneath the photograph.
Dominic didn’t need to ask why—the fear in his oldest friend’s eyes said more than any confession could.
Eight years of lies, hidden payments, and threats suddenly pointed toward someone who had been closer to
Dominic than he ever imagined.
But before he could demand the truth, Lucia whispered that her mother had given her one more message—one
she was only supposed to reveal if Dominic recognized the name.
Then the security alarm shattered the silence, and a black car stopped directly outside the locked gate.
Dominic looked at Lucia as she reached into her coat and pulled out a second sealed envelope bearing three chilling words: FOR DOMINIC ONLY.
The alarm continued to pulse through the townhouse.
A low, mechanical warning.
Not loud enough to create panic.
Just loud enough to make everyone understand that someone had crossed a boundary.
Marco moved first.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and spoke sharply into it.
“North gate.
Camera three.
Tell me what we have.”
Dominic barely heard him.
His attention remained fixed on the photograph in his hand.
On the name written beneath the sentence.
Vincent Moretti.
His father.
The man who had died six years earlier.
The man who had spent his entire life teaching Dominic that trust was merely a weakness with better manners.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Dominic.”
Dominic did not answer.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“That signature… are you certain it’s his?”
“I know my father’s name.”
“I’m not asking if you know the name.”
Daniel pointed carefully to the writing.
“I’m asking whether this could have been forged.”
Dominic looked again.
The handwriting did resemble Vincent’s.
The heavy slant.
The long tail beneath the final “i.”
Even the slight pressure mark beneath the first letter.
But Dominic had spent years investigating fraud, falsified documents, and manufactured evidence.
He knew better than anyone that resemblance proved nothing.
Especially now.
Especially after learning that the photograph which had destroyed his relationship eight years earlier might itself have been part of a deliberate lie.
“Get it tested,” Dominic said.
Daniel nodded.
Lucia stood motionless near the fireplace.
Dominic looked at her.
She was trying very hard not to look afraid.
That bothered him more than if she had cried.
Children should not have to learn how to hide fear.
Not at eight years old.
“Lucia,” he said gently.
She looked up.
“You said your mother gave you another message.”
Her fingers closed around the envelope.
“She said I should only give it to you if you knew the name.”
Dominic crouched in front of her again.
“And you think I know it?”
Lucia glanced toward the photograph.
“It’s your last name.”
Something tightened in his chest.
“Yes.”
She held the envelope out.
Dominic took it.
For one brief second, Lucia did not let go.
Her eyes searched his.
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
“At my mom?”
That answer was harder.
“I don’t know yet.”
Lucia looked down.
“She said you might be.”
Dominic swallowed.
“What else did she say?”
Lucia hesitated.
Then whispered, “She said if you were angry, I shouldn’t be scared of you.”
Dominic felt the words like a blade sliding quietly between his ribs.
Behind him, Marco turned away from the windows.
“Vehicle’s registered to a shell company.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Whose?”
“Still checking.”
“Occupants?”
“Driver only, according to the camera.”
“Can we identify him?”
Marco’s eyes flicked briefly to Dominic.
“Security is trying.”
The black car remained beyond the gate.
Its headlights glowing through the rain.
Waiting.
Dominic straightened.
“Bring the driver in.”
Marco stared at him.
“That might be exactly what they want.”
“I didn’t say invite him inside.”
A pause.
“Take him at the outer security post.”
Marco nodded.
Then Dominic opened the second envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
The handwriting belonged to Lucia’s mother.
Elena.
The name alone returned him to another life.
A life before the hard distance inside him had become permanent.
Before disappointment had calcified into discipline.
Before he learned to treat love as an error in judgment.
He began to read.
Dominic,
If you found the name on the photograph, then I need you to understand one thing first.
Your father knew about Lucia.
Dominic stopped breathing.
Daniel watched his face.
“What is it?”
Dominic kept reading.
He knew before she was born.
He knew before I disappeared.
And he was the reason I disappeared.
The paper shook once in Dominic’s hand.
Then stopped.
He read on.
The man in the airport photograph was not my lover.
His name was Dr.
Adrian Vale.
He was your father’s physician.
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
The room seemed suddenly smaller.
Dr.
Adrian Vale.
He knew the name.
Everyone in his family had.
Vale had treated Vincent during the final decade of his life.
Heart disease.
Hypertension.
A minor stroke Vincent had hidden from almost everyone.
Vale had been trusted.
Protected.
Paid generously.
Then he had vanished from New York months before Vincent died.
Dominic had assumed he retired overseas.
He had never cared enough to ask.
Until now.
Elena’s letter continued.
Your father brought him to me because I was pregnant.
He told me you were not ready to know.
He told me the Moretti family had enemies.
He told me if word spread that you had a child, both Lucia and I would become targets.
At first, I believed him.
He was your father.
And I thought he was trying to protect you.
Dominic clenched his jaw.
Of course.
That sounded exactly like Vincent.
Protection, according to Vincent, had always required obedience.
Sometimes silence.
Sometimes fear.
Sometimes lies.
But the next lines changed everything.
Then he showed me documents proving that someone inside your organization had already accessed my medical records.
My appointment history.
My address.
Even the hospital where I planned to give birth.
He said there was a leak close to you.
Someone you trusted.
He refused to tell me who.
Marco had stopped talking into his phone.
Dominic became aware of the silence behind him.
He turned slightly.
Marco was watching him.
“What?”
Marco shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Dominic held his gaze.
For too long.
Then returned to the letter.
Your father told me to leave New York for several months.
He arranged everything.
Dr.
Vale escorted me through the airport because I was ill that morning.
The photograph you received was taken deliberately.
But I swear to you, Dominic, I did not know you had been sent that picture until much later.
Dominic closed his eyes.
Eight years.
Eight years built on a photograph.
Eight years of resentment.
Eight years of believing Elena had left without enough courage to tell him the truth.
And somewhere in those same eight years, a child had learned to walk.
To speak.
To read.
To ride the subway alone through freezing rain.
A child who might be his.
His daughter.
And he had missed all of it.
Not because Elena had rejected him.
Not because he had chosen to leave.
Because someone had decided for them.
He forced himself to continue.
I tried to return when Lucia was six months old.
Your father stopped me.
He said the leak had not been found.
Then he showed me something else.
A photograph of you leaving your office.
Beside you was Marco.
Behind you was a man I had seen near my apartment while I was pregnant.
Dominic’s eyes stopped on the name.
Marco.
He slowly looked up.
Marco had already understood.
His face had gone pale.
“Dominic,” Marco said carefully, “whatever that says—”
“Don’t.”
Marco froze.
Daniel shifted between them slightly.
Not enough to interfere.
Just enough to notice.
Dominic read aloud.
“‘Your father said he believed someone close to you had been reporting my movements.’”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
“And you think that was me?”
“I haven’t finished.”
Lucia looked frightened again.
Dominic immediately lowered the paper.
His anger vanished from his voice when he turned to her.
“Lucia, would you like something warm to drink?”
She glanced around.
“Can I have hot chocolate?”
The request was so ordinary that for one second nobody moved.
Then Daniel smiled faintly.
“I think we can arrange that.”
Dominic called the housekeeper and asked her to take Lucia to the kitchen.
Lucia did not move right away.
Instead, she looked at Dominic.
“You’ll still be here?”
“Yes.”
“When I come back?”
“Yes.”
She studied his face as though trying to decide whether adults kept promises.
Then she nodded.
“Okay.”
As she followed the housekeeper out, Dominic watched until the door closed.
Then he turned toward Marco.
The warmth disappeared from his expression.
“Talk.”
Marco exhaled.
“I never followed Elena.”
“That isn’t what the letter says.”
“The letter says your father suspected someone close to you.”
“It specifically mentions you.”
“Because I was always with you!”
Marco’s voice rose, then dropped immediately.
“I was your security chief.
Your father hated that I had more access to you than he did.”
Daniel looked between them.
“Marco, did Vincent ever ask you about Elena?”
“Yes.”
Dominic’s stare hardened.
“When?”
“After she disappeared.”
“You never told me.”
“You never asked.”
“Wrong answer.”
Marco ran a hand over his face.
“Fine.
He asked if you were looking for her.
I said no.
He asked if I thought you would.
I said no.
He asked me to make sure nobody in the company used internal resources to track her.”
Dominic stared at him.
“And you agreed?”
“I thought he was protecting you from humiliating yourself.”
Dominic laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“That sounds like him.”
Marco stepped closer.
“I didn’t know she was pregnant.”
Dominic said nothing.
“I swear to you.”
Before Dominic could answer, his phone rang.
Security.
He answered.
“Yes?”
A voice spoke rapidly.
Dominic’s expression changed.
“Send it to me.”
He ended the call.
Daniel frowned.
“What?”
Dominic opened the incoming image.
Security had captured the driver from the black car.
A man in his late sixties.
Silver hair.
Thin face.
Dark coat.
Dominic had not seen him in years.
But he recognized him instantly.
Marco did too.
“Impossible,” Marco whispered.
Daniel looked at the screen.
“Who is that?”
Dominic stared at the image.
“Dr.
Adrian Vale.”
The physician from the airport photograph.
The man Elena had been accused of leaving Dominic for.
The man who had apparently helped Vincent hide her pregnancy.
The man who had vanished before Vincent died.
And now he was sitting outside Dominic’s townhouse.
Eight years later.
In the rain.
“Bring him in,” Dominic said.
Marco shook his head.
“Dominic—”
“Now.”
Ten minutes later, the library doors opened.
Adrian Vale entered with two security officers behind him.
He looked older than Dominic remembered.
Much older.
There was exhaustion beneath his eyes.
And fear.
But not surprise.
His gaze went immediately to the letter in Dominic’s hand.
“So,” Vale said softly.
“She finally sent Lucia.”
Dominic crossed the room before anyone could stop him.
He seized Vale by the front of his coat.
“Where is Elena?”
Vale did not struggle.
“At the hospital.”
“Why were you following Lucia?”
“To make sure she arrived alive.”
The answer stopped Dominic.
“What?”
Vale looked toward Marco.
Then Daniel.
Then back to Dominic.
“If she told you everything, then Elena is in more danger now than she was eight years ago.”
Dominic released him slowly.
“Explain.”
Vale removed his wet glasses.
“Your father did not create the lie to destroy your relationship.”
Dominic’s expression darkened.
“Then why send me the photograph?”
“He didn’t.”
Silence.
Vale continued.
“Vincent arranged Elena’s departure.
That much is true.
But the photograph sent to you was never part of his plan.”
Dominic stared at him.
“Then who sent it?”
Vale looked around the room.
“I don’t know.”
Marco scoffed.
“You expect us to believe that?”
“I expect you to understand that Vincent discovered the photograph only after Dominic had already seen it.”
Dominic’s voice dropped.
“My father knew I believed Elena betrayed me.”
“Yes.”
“And he let me believe it.”
Vale lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
Dominic turned away.
That betrayal somehow felt worse.
Not because Vincent created the lie.
Because he saw the damage and chose silence.
“Why?”
“Because by then,” Vale said, “your anger was useful.”
Dominic turned back.
“Useful to whom?”
“To whoever was watching Elena.”
The room fell quiet again.
Vale continued.
“Your father believed that if you hated her, no one would believe you were protecting her.”
Daniel spoke first.
“So Vincent sacrificed Dominic’s relationship to create cover.”
“Yes.”
Dominic stared at Vale.
“And the payments?”
“Vincent arranged them.”
“From my company account?”
“He believed using his own accounts would be easier to trace.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“Of course he did.”
Vale sat down heavily.
“There is more.”
Dominic did not move.
Vale looked directly at him.
“Vincent spent two years searching for the leak.”
“And?”
“He found one.”
Marco’s shoulders stiffened.
“Who?”
Vale reached inside his coat.
Security reacted instantly.
“Easy,” he said.
He removed a small flash drive.
“I carried this for eight years because Vincent told me never to give it to Dominic unless Elena came back.”
Dominic took it.
“What’s on it?”
“Financial records.
Private surveillance.
Communications.”
“Whose?”
Vale hesitated.
Then said,
“Your family’s.”
Dominic frowned.
“My family?”
“Not your father.”
A terrible instinct moved through him.
“Who?”
Vale opened his mouth.
Before he could answer, Lucia screamed from the hallway.
Dominic moved before anyone else.
He reached the kitchen in seconds.
Lucia stood beside the table.
Her cup of hot chocolate lay shattered across the floor.
The housekeeper was frozen beside her.
“What happened?”
Dominic demanded.
Lucia pointed toward the window.
“There.”
Outside the rain-streaked glass, someone had written a message.
Three words.
HE IS LYING.
Dominic stared at it.
The kitchen window faced an enclosed courtyard.
No one should have been able to reach it without entering the property.
Marco immediately called security.
Vale looked horrified.
“They’re inside.”
Dominic turned.
“Who?”
Vale’s face tightened.
“The person who has been watching Elena all these years.”
Security flooded the halls.
Doors locked automatically.
Cameras were checked.
Every member of staff was accounted for.
No intruder appeared.
No footprints.
No damaged gate.
Nothing.
Which meant one thing.
The message had been written by someone who already had access.
Someone inside Dominic’s home.
Daniel whispered, “Dominic…”
But Dominic was looking at Lucia.
She had stepped away from the broken cup.
Her hands trembled.
Dominic knelt.
“Did you see anyone?”
“No.”
“Did anyone come into the kitchen?”
She shook her head.
Then hesitated.
“What?”
Lucia looked toward Vale.
“My mom told me something about him.”
Vale went pale.
Dominic’s voice softened.
“What did she say?”
Lucia swallowed.
“She said if Dr.
Vale came back…”
Vale stood abruptly.
“Lucia—”
Marco moved between them.
Dominic looked at the girl.
“Finish.”
Lucia whispered,
“She said I should ask him about the basement.”
Vale closed his eyes.
Dominic stood.
“What basement?”
Vale said nothing.
Dominic stepped closer.
“What basement?”
Vale finally looked at him.
“Your father’s old house.”
The Moretti estate.
Abandoned for six years.
Dominic had not entered it since Vincent’s funeral.
Vale continued.
“Vincent kept records there.”
“What kind of records?”
“Names.
Photographs.
Evidence.”
“Against whom?”
Vale looked toward the window.
Then toward the door.
As though expecting someone to be listening.
“Against the person who was threatening Elena.”
Dominic picked up his coat.
Marco immediately said, “Absolutely not.”
Dominic did not stop.
“If there’s evidence, I’m getting it.”
“They may be baiting you.”
“Then they made a mistake.”
Daniel sighed.
“I assume saying this is a terrible idea won’t help.”
“No.”
“Good.
At least we’re efficient.”
Dominic looked at Lucia.
She could not stay here.
Not if someone inside the property had written that message.
He turned to Daniel.
“Take her to the hospital.”
Lucia’s face changed.
“To my mom?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
“You’re coming too?”
“As soon as I can.”
She looked disappointed.
Dominic surprised himself by crouching and placing one hand gently against her shoulder.
“I promise.”
Lucia studied him.
Then extended her smallest finger.
Dominic stared at it.
“A pinky promise,” she said seriously.
Marco looked away to hide a smile.
Dominic slowly hooked his finger around hers.
“Promise.”
Lucia nodded.
Only then did she leave with Daniel.
Twenty minutes later, Dominic, Marco, and Vale arrived at the old Moretti estate.
The mansion stood dark beyond iron gates.
Dead leaves covered the drive.
Inside, everything smelled of dust and wood.
Vincent’s study remained untouched.
His books.
His desk.
His old chessboard.
Dominic felt like he had stepped backward into a childhood he had spent years escaping.
Vale led them downstairs.
Past the wine cellar.
Past a storage room.
To a wall Dominic had seen hundreds of times.
Vale pressed a hidden mechanism.
A section of shelving moved.
Behind it was a steel door.
Marco stared.
“You knew about this?”
Vale nodded.
Dominic entered first.
The room beyond was small.
Windowless.
Filled with boxes.
Photographs covered one wall.
Elena.
Dominic.
Marco.
Employees.
Doctors.
Drivers.
Hundreds of surveillance images.
Dominic’s stomach turned.
“What the hell was my father doing?”
“Trying to find the leak,” Vale said.
Marco picked up a file.
Then stopped.
“Dominic.”
Inside were photographs of Elena outside medical clinics.
Dates.
Times.
Locations.
And beside several entries was the same handwritten symbol.
A small black triangle.
Vale pointed.
“Vincent believed that symbol identified the person ordering surveillance.”
Dominic opened another box.
Bank statements.
Phone logs.
Copies of emails.
Then he found a sealed envelope.
His name was written across it.
DOMINIC — IF I FAIL.
His father’s handwriting.
Real this time.
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Son,
If you are reading this, I either failed to finish what I began, or you finally learned enough to stop hating the wrong people.
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
Typical Vincent.
Even from the grave, he could sound like he was giving orders.
I owe you a truth I was too proud to give while alive.
Elena did not betray you.
I betrayed both of you.
I believed separating you would protect her and the child.
I was wrong.
Dominic stopped.
The next line was underlined.
The threat was never against Elena.
It was against you.
Dominic frowned.
Vale leaned closer.
He read on.
Someone discovered Elena’s pregnancy and intended to use the child to control you.
I moved her before they could.
But the person responsible was closer to our family than I understood.
Closer than blood should ever permit.
Dominic’s heart slowed.
Closer than blood.
Marco whispered,
“No.”
Dominic turned the page.
The next paragraph had been partially burned.
Only a few words remained.
…your mother…
Dominic froze.
“My mother?”
Marco stared at him.
Vale stepped back.
Dominic’s mother, Sofia Moretti, had been dead for twenty years.
Killed in a car accident when Dominic was sixteen.
Or so he had always believed.
He searched the box frantically.
More pages.
More files.
Then one photograph slipped free.
A woman exiting a building.
Older.
Her face half hidden by sunglasses.
Dominic stared at it.
His mother.
Impossible.
But unmistakable.
The photograph was dated three years after her supposed death.
On the back, Vincent had written one sentence.
Sofia is alive.
Dominic’s entire world shifted.
Marco whispered,
“My God.”
Before Dominic could speak, his phone rang.
Daniel.
Dominic answered immediately.
“Tell me you’re at the hospital.”
Silence.
Then Daniel’s voice.
Tight.
Controlled.
“Dominic…”
His blood went cold.
“What happened?”
“We got here.”
“And?”
“Elena’s room is empty.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Where is Lucia?”
Another pause.
Too long.
“Daniel.”
“She’s gone.”
The air left Dominic’s lungs.
“What do you mean gone?”
“I turned around for less than thirty seconds.
A nurse called my name.
When I looked back, Lucia wasn’t there.”
Dominic gripped the phone so hard his knuckles whitened.
“Lock the hospital down.”
“They already are.”
Vale looked terrified.
Marco was already moving toward the door.
Then Daniel added,
“There’s something else.”
Dominic barely managed to speak.
“What?”
“Elena left something on the bed.”
“What?”
“A note.”
Dominic stared at the photograph of his supposedly dead mother.
“Read it.”
Daniel inhaled.
Then spoke the words slowly.
“Dominic, if Lucia disappears, do not trust Dr.
Vale.”
Silence.
Every eye turned toward Vale.
Vale stepped backward.
“No.”
Marco reached for him.
Vale lifted both hands.
“No, listen to me.”
Dominic moved closer.
His face became terrifyingly calm.
“Where is my daughter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I swear.”
Dominic seized Vale’s coat.
“You had one purpose tonight.
Tell me the truth.”
“I am telling you the truth!”
“Then why did Elena warn me about you?”
Vale stared at him.
And suddenly stopped struggling.
His expression changed.
Not guilt.
Realization.
“Oh God.”
“What?”
Vale looked at the photograph in Dominic’s hand.
Then at Vincent’s files.
“We misunderstood everything.”
Dominic’s grip tightened.
“Explain.”
Vale swallowed.
“Vincent never believed Sofia was threatening Elena.”
“You just said—”
“I said he was investigating someone close to the family.”
Vale pointed at the photograph.
“But Sofia wasn’t the threat.”
Dominic stared.
Vale whispered,
“She was hiding from the same person Elena was hiding from.”
The room went silent.
“Who?”
Marco demanded.
Vale looked directly at Dominic.
“Your father.”
Dominic released him.
Nobody moved.
Vale continued.
“Vincent wasn’t protecting Elena from a leak.”
His voice dropped.
“He was protecting Lucia from himself.”
Dominic felt the floor disappear beneath him.
“What are you saying?”
Vale’s eyes filled with something that looked almost like pity.
“Your father discovered something before Lucia was born.”
“What?”
“Something about the Moretti family.”
“What?”
Vale looked at the medical records scattered across the table.
Then he said the words Dominic could never have predicted.
“Lucia was never the child Vincent was afraid someone would use against you.”
Dominic stared at him.
Vale’s voice became almost inaudible.
“She was the child who could prove you were never Vincent Moretti’s biological son.”
For several seconds, no one breathed.
Then Dominic’s phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
He opened it.
A photograph appeared.
Lucia.
Safe.
Sitting beside Elena.
And behind them stood an older woman with silver-streaked dark hair.
A woman Dominic had buried twenty years ago.
His mother.
Sofia Moretti.
Beneath the photograph was a message.
If you want your daughter and the truth, come alone.
Then another message arrived.
This one made Dominic’s heart stop.
And Dominic… ask Marco why he already knew your mother was alive.
Dominic slowly lifted his eyes.
Marco had gone white.
And for the first time in more than twenty years of friendship, he could not meet Dominic’s stare.
…If you want to know what happened next, please type “YES” and like for more.
READ FULL PART 2:
FULL STORY: The Daughter in the Rain – PT04
Source: Stories of Destiny · Thao Thao
