Chapter 2
Dominic moved Donna to his own private rooms.
Not because she needed luxury.
Because only three people had keys.
Dominic.
His head of security, Peter Shaw.
And Donna herself.
Hattie did not.
Michael did not.
For the first time in years, Dominic realized how much access marriage and blood had been allowed to create around him.
Donna sat beside the fireplace beneath a blanket.
Elena brought tea.
Dominic stopped her before she left.
“You stay.”
Elena hesitated.
Donna looked at her.
“Stay.”
That settled it.
Michael and Hattie were separated in different parts of the estate.
Not prisoners.
Not yet.
Dominic wanted them frightened enough to make mistakes.
He sat opposite his mother.
“Start at the beginning.”
Donna laughed faintly.
“At my age, that’s a dangerous request.”
“Father.”
Her smile disappeared.
Richard Coleman.
Twenty-six years dead and still controlling the room.
Donna stared into the fire.
“Your father trusted Silas Vale more than any man outside blood.”
Dominic remembered him.
Tall.
Thin.
Always dressed simply.
A man who could enter a room of armed soldiers and make them lower their voices without raising his own.
Silas trained younger Coleman men.
Taught them discipline.
Taught them how to endure pain without showing it.
Dominic had admired him.
Until the story of Silas ended in fire.
An abandoned workshop burned three years after Richard’s death.
A body was found.
Everyone said Silas had finally been caught by men who wanted revenge.
“What was the knot?”
Donna looked toward the leash on the table.
“Silas called it the shepherd’s knot.”
Elena lowered her eyes.
Dominic noticed.
“You know it.”
The housekeeper said nothing.
Donna answered for her.
“Elena’s husband knew it too.”
Dominic turned.
Elena had been widowed for more than twenty years.
He knew almost nothing about the man.
“What was his name?”
“Samuel Brooks.”
Dominic frowned.
The name was familiar.
Then memory returned.
A warehouse guard.
One of Richard’s men.
Samuel vanished shortly after Richard’s murder.
Dominic had always assumed he fled.
“Elena.”
She looked at him.
“My husband didn’t run.”
“What happened?”
Elena’s voice remained steady.
“Silas killed him.”
The room went cold.
“Why?”
“Because Samuel saw him leave the hunting lodge.”
Dominic stood.
Donna whispered:
“Sit.”
He looked at his mother.
“I killed Morettis for Father.”
“I know.”
“You knew Silas was there?”
“I knew someone with his knot was there.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
“But you suspected.”
“Yes.”
Dominic turned away.
Twenty-six years of revenge moved inside him.
Faces.
Funerals.
Men he had hunted because Richard’s murder demanded an answer.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Donna’s voice cracked.
“Because you were twenty-nine and already drowning in rage.”
“That was my choice.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“And I was a coward.”
No excuse.
Dominic could not easily fight that.
Donna continued.
“Richard had been afraid for months.”
“Of Silas?”
“Of something Silas was building.”
“What?”
“A second loyalty inside the family.”
Dominic looked back.
“Explain.”
“Men who answered to the Coleman name publicly.”
A pause.
“But to Silas privately.”
“Why?”
“Because Silas told them your father had become weak.”
Dominic almost laughed.
Richard weak.
Impossible.
“He said Richard had grown sentimental.”
“About what?”
Donna looked toward the hallway.
“His sons.”
Dominic stared.
“Silas believed family should serve power.”
Donna’s eyes hardened.
“Not the other way around.”
Michael had been thirteen.
Dominic twenty-nine.
Two sons separated by sixteen years.
Richard had begun preparing Dominic to inherit.
Silas apparently believed that made the family vulnerable.
“What key did Father protect?”
Donna looked at Elena.
Elena nodded slightly.
Donna continued.
“There was a room beneath the old hunting lodge.”
Dominic knew no such room.
“What was in it?”
“Something Silas wanted.”
“Money?”
“No.”
“Weapons?”
“No.”
“What?”
Donna’s voice became quiet.
“The names of every man who had secretly sworn himself to Silas.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
He disliked the direction immediately.
Too close to lists.
Too easy.
Donna saw his expression.
“Not written names.”
She reached beneath her cardigan.
From a chain around her neck, she removed a tiny black iron key.
Dominic stared.
“Hattie and Michael wanted this.”
“Yes.”
“What does it open?”
Donna closed her fingers around it.
“Not a box.”
“What?”
“A door.”
“Where?”
“The old family kennel.”
Dominic frowned.
The Colemans had once kept hunting dogs near the northern edge of the estate.
The kennel buildings had been abandoned before Michael was born.
May you like
Donna whispered:
“Silas trained more than dogs there.”
