“I know.” I stand as she rises to leave. “One more thing—did he ever mention abusing his wife? Cora’s mother?”
Melissa freezes, her hand on the doorknob. “He told me once, when he was drunk, that Elaine didn’t die of cancer as everyone thinks.”
My blood runs cold. “What did he say?”
“That she was going to leave him and take Cora. He said sometimes—” her voice breaks, “—sometimes accidents happen to women who don’t understand their place.”
I struggle to keep my expression neutral even as fury rises in my chest. “Thank you for telling me.”
After she leaves, I sit motionless at my desk, mind racing. If Pike killed Cora’s mother, this isn’t just about domestic abuse anymore.
I walk through the door of Dominic’s penthouse feeling like my bones might shatter. The weight of Melissa’s words—those terrible implications about Cora’s mother press against my chest until breathing becomes a conscious effort. My hands shake as I set my briefcase down, not bothering with my usual meticulous routine of unpacking files.
“Liam?” Ryder looks up from the couch, his arm draped around Cora’s shoulders. “Jesus, what happened to you?”
I try to respond, but my throat closes. Dominic appears from the kitchen, wine glass in hand, his expression shifting from casual to concerned in an instant.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says, closing the distance between us.
Cora untangles herself from Ryder and approaches. “Is it my father? Did he do something else?”
“No, it’s—” I run a hand through my hair. “Just a difficult day.”
It’s not a lie, but it’s nowhere near the truth. How do I tell her that her father probably murdered her mother? That the cancer story a fabrication? I can’t—not yet, not without certainty.
Dominic guides me to the couch, pressing the wine into my hands. “Drink this.”
Ryder shifts to make room, his fingers brushing my shoulder with uncharacteristic gentleness. “Want to talk about it?”
I shake my head, taking a long swallow of wine. “Not right now.”
Cora nestles against me, her head resting on my shoulder. Her touch nearly breaks me. This woman, who’s survived so much, who doesn’t even know the full extent of what she’s survived.
“We’ve got you,” she whispers.
We settle into a movie none of us really watches. I focus on their warmth instead—Dominic’s solid presence beside me,Ryder’s casual affection, Cora’s trusting weight against my side. By the third act, Cora has migrated back to Ryder’s lap, her eyes growing heavy until sleep claims her.
I watch her peaceful face, feeling both protective and terrified. When I’m certain she’s deeply asleep, I catch Dominic’s eye and tilt my head toward his office.
He nods, understanding without words.
Dominic closes his office door behind us. I pace the length of his mahogany desk, struggling to organize my thoughts.
“Liam, what the hell is going on?”
I take a steadying breath. “I tracked down Melissa Conner today. Pike’s ex-girlfriend.”
“And?”
“She confirmed his abuse pattern, but there’s more.” My voice drops. “She told me Pike once implied he killed Cora’s mother when she threatened to leave him. Said Elaine didn’t die from cancer as everyone thinks. Thataccidents happen to women who don’t know their place.”
Dominic’s face hardens to granite. “Jesus Christ.”
“It’s just an implication, not proof, but—” My voice breaks unexpectedly, the professional mask slipping. “I can’t stop thinking about Cora growing up with that monster, thinking her mother died of cancer when he might have...”
I sink into the leather chair by the window. “This feels personal, Dom.”
He sits across from me, leaning forward. “Why?”
