Chapter 6 - What His Family Owned
The offer from Lakeshore arrived on Monday.
Program coordinator.
A modest raise over what Emily had expected from a nonprofit, although substantially less than Vincent paid.
Independent funding.
A clear reporting structure.
Work that used skills she had nearly stopped naming.
She accepted before fear could begin negotiating.
That evening, her brother Nate drove down from Milwaukee with takeout and an expression of wounded professional pride.
“You needed rescuing and texted a developer.”
“I’ve apologized.”
“Not enough.”
She threw a napkin at him.
Then he hugged her carefully.
“I’m glad you called someone.”
“I didn’t call him on purpose.”
Nate leaned back.
“Maybe next time label my contact ‘Actual Brother.’”
She laughed.
It felt like finding a window in a room she had believed was sealed.
Across the city, Vincent sat before a board that had spent years praising his results.
Now his results were inconvenient.
Dominic occupied the chair at the opposite end of the table.
Luca avoided everyone’s eyes.
The family’s lenders had invoked review provisions. Several projects were paused. Access to certain funds required additional approval.
Dominic presented it as a crisis caused by Vincent’s emotional attachment to an employee.
“She isn’t an employee anymore,” Vincent said.
“Apparently not. Yet you continue destroying the company for her.”
“For forged records.”
“For allegations.”
“Then an independent investigation should reassure you.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
He dismissed the room.
Vincent remained.
Luca did, too, though he looked as if he regretted possessing a chair.
When the door closed, Dominic slid a folder across the table.
Inside were records concerning the old property coercion Vincent had disclosed to his lawyers.
There were details Vincent had not previously seen.
Names.
Payments.
The cost to the man who had refused to sell.
“You think exposure purifies you?” Dominic asked.
Vincent read the pages.
“No.”
“Then stop behaving like a child.”
Luca spoke suddenly.
“Uncle.”
Dominic turned.
“That’s enough.”
But Luca had finally reached the point where obedience looked more dangerous than speech.
“Pike wasn’t supposed to touch her.”
The room became silent.
Vincent lifted his head.
Dominic’s expression did not change.
It did not need to.
Luca looked sick.
“I authorized contact. Pressure. Get her away from the files.”
Vincent stood so abruptly that his chair struck the wall.
For one terrible second, everything his family had taught him offered itself as a solution.
His hands closed.
Then he opened them.
“Get an attorney,” he told Luca.
Dominic smiled faintly.
“Now you sound like a stranger.”
Vincent looked at the man who had helped raise him.
“Good.”
He left with the folder.
He did not call Emily.
Instead, he called Naomi and the investigators.
She had asked him to make the truth matter when she was absent.
He intended to keep that promise.
Three days later, Detective Alvarez informed Emily that significant new evidence connected the nightclub incident to the corporate inquiry.
She explained what could be shared without compromising the case.
Emily listened from a small meeting room at Lakeshore.
Afterward, she closed the door and cried into a paper towel.
Her new director knocked.
“Tea or company?”
“Both.”
Nobody asked whether she regretted leaving.
That night, Emily called Vincent.
He answered on the second ring.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
The speed of his question hurt her a little.
Not because it was wrong.
Because she knew why he asked.
“I heard about Luca,” she said.
He was quiet.
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t send him.”
“I gave people like him too much room.”
She sat on the edge of her bed.
“Are you eating?”
A pause.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Occasionally.”
“That isn’t a schedule.”
For the first time, she heard him laugh without restraint.
The sound was warm and startled.
She wanted to hear it again.
They talked for twenty minutes.
About her new job.
About the ancient filing cabinet that had nearly defeated her.
About Vincent’s mother, who lived in Oak Park and had stopped attending family functions years earlier.
“Call her,” Emily said.
“She may not answer.”
“Then she gets to choose.”
He understood what she was saying.
Before they hung up, he asked one careful question.
“When this week is over, would you have dinner with me?”
Emily looked toward the window.
May you like
For once, nobody’s salary depended on her answer.
“Yes,” she said.
