photo on his desk-a candid snapshot from the art gallery. Elena Michaels stared out at him, her eyes soft but guarded

apping against the edge of the photo. The n

hind his back. "Sir, shall I investigate further? The background check on Ms.

his hand. "No need. Not yet." His v

"Sir, if I may... the resemblance is unc

Dominic repeated,

her folder on the desk. "These are the rest of the photos from

g him out of his reverie. He gl

ar now, though the arrangement was more of a merger than a love story. Their families had been intertwined for generations, t

get what she wanted at all costs. The problem was, what she wanted most was him

the photo of Lucas. A memory i

ater in shades of gold. She laughed as he tried-and failed-to skip stones acr

inst the marble floor. She was dressed impeccably, as always, in a tailored white suit that

r tone clipped. "You've

ed, reclining back in his

s spread across his desk. "What's

closing the folder before

ince when does 'work' involve

" he said quickl

drumming a light rhythm against the edge of the

nt relative, perhaps. Peter was helping

ned forward, her gaze slicing right th

ed firmly. "Why are

came to remind you about dinner with my parents tonight.

said, brushing her

g moment, her face inscrutable. Then she turned and began

low, even tone, each word tinged with sus

r, and Dominic was finall

nt she was out of earshot, she pulle

?" she said as th

," the voice on th

Her name is Elena Michaels. I want everything you can find on her-where she lives, who

"Ms. Sinclair, this sound

k questions," Vanessa sna

, ma

ing around in her seat as she sat clutching her cell phon

s. "Whatever you are out there, girl

skyline. He felt that familiar tug of guilt. He hadn't been honest with Vanes

y. If he was his son-and he knew almost definitely he was

f dread and anticipation. He wanted answers, but he also knew dig

ed, pulling him f

ed through the speaker. "You have

t was, it would have to wait. For now, a tempest was brewi