Chapter 6 - THE CONFESSION
Dominic walked back across the ballroom.
He didn’t look like a man whose world was collapsing. He looked triumphant. The arrogant swagger had returned to his step. He adjusted his cuff links—the silver ones he had put on just hours ago in our bedroom—and stopped at our table.
He didn't look at Mercer. He looked only at me.
"It's done," Dominic said, a cruel, satisfied smirk on his face. "I just signed a letter of intent with Marcus Sterling. Three point two billion dollars. Cash. By the time your little injunction hits on Monday, I'll be in Geneva, and Marcus will be the one dealing with your fictional lease."
I looked at him. "You sold the company."
"I sold a headache," he corrected. "And I made a fortune doing it. You tried to play chess with me, Evelyn. But you forgot who taught you the game."
He leaned closer, resting his knuckles on the table.
"I'll have my lawyers send you a check for a hundred grand. Buy yourself a nice condo. Get a dog. Because this? This world?" He gestured to the room. "You are officially locked out."
He turned to walk away.
"Dominic," I said.
He paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"Where is your mother's rosary?" I asked.
The question hit him like a physical blow. He froze completely. Slowly, he turned back around, his eyes wide. "What?"
"Your mother's silver rosary," I repeated, my voice calm, projecting just enough for the surrounding tables to hear. "The one she brought over from Italy. The one she made you promise to keep in the family."
"It's... it's in the safe at the house," he stammered, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic.
"No, it isn't," I said.
I reached into my velvet clutch for the third time tonight. I pulled out a delicate, tarnished silver rosary. The beads clicked softly against each other as I held it up.
Dominic's face went completely ashen. "Give that to me."
"You lost it, Dominic," I said. "Three years ago. In a poker game with Richard."
I looked at Mercer, who gave a brief, acknowledging nod.
"You bet your dead mother's rosary on a pair of tens," I said, my voice dripping with disgust. "Richard kept it. He gave it to me tonight in the car."
"Give it to me," Dominic demanded, his voice rising, drawing the attention of several nearby guests.
"I will," I said. "But first, I want you to tell me the truth."
"About what?" he spat.
"About my father."
The ballroom suddenly felt very cold. Dominic swallowed hard. He looked around; people were openly staring now. Marcus Sterling was watching from across the room, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Dominic said, his voice trembling slightly.
"My father died in a hit-and-run on a rainy Tuesday in November," I said, my voice remarkably steady. "The police never found the driver. But two weeks later, you showed up at my door. A billionaire, suddenly fascinated by a grieving school teacher. You swept me off my feet. You married me. And then, you somehow acquired the deed to his land."
I stood up. I was wearing heels, putting me almost eye-to-eye with him.
"How did you get the deed, Dominic?" I asked. "My father kept it in a safe deposit box. Only he had the key."
Dominic’s breathing was erratic. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I... I found it in his things after we married."
"Liar," Mercer said softly from the table. "I have the police report from the accident. The victim's personal effects were logged. A keychain. But no safety deposit key."
"You hired someone to run him off the road," I said, the horrific realization finally fully cementing in my mind. "You killed him for the land."
"No!" Dominic shouted, losing control. "No, I didn't kill him! It was an accident!"
The entire ballroom went dead silent. The music stopped.
Dominic realized what he had just screamed. He looked around frantically at the hundreds of horrified faces.
"It was an accident," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I was driving home from a site visit. It was raining. He stepped out into the road. I panicked. I... I searched his pockets before I called 911. I found the key. I knew what he had in that box. He had refused to sell it to me for months."
I stared at the man I had slept next to for eight years.
He wasn't just a cheat. He wasn't just a thief. He was a monster.
"You left him to die in the street," I whispered. "And then you married his daughter to cover your tracks."
Dominic reached out, his hands shaking. "Evelyn, please..."
"Don't touch me," I stepped back.
From the crowd, a commanding voice rang out.
"Dominic."
We all turned. It was Marcus Sterling. He was holding his phone, looking at an email.
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"My legal team just ran a preliminary title check on the South Loop properties," Marcus said, his voice echoing in the silent room. "There's a sealed injunction on the land. Claiming fraudulent acquisition."
Marcus stepped forward, his eyes blazing with fury. "You just tried to sell me stolen property."
