Chapter 7 - The Scars of the PastI ripped open the Manila envelope under the harsh fluorescent lights of the vault. Inside were medical records, newspaper clippings, and a series of high-resolution photographs that made my stomach drop into an endless abyss.
The photos showed me—six years younger, my hair a different color, wearing a tailored expensive suit—standing beside a radiant woman with blonde hair and striking blue eyes.
Eva Rosetti.
“She wasn’t just a wealthy heiress,” Dominic said quietly, leaning against the steel server rack next to me. “Before she married me, Eva worked deep undercover as a forensic investigator trying to dismantle The Syndicate of the Seven from the inside. You weren’t just my accountant, Julian. You were her handler. And more than that—you were the man she loved before she was forced into an arranged marriage with me to secure the family truce.”
The room seemed to spin on its axis. Fragments of memory—sharp, blinding flashes of light, laughter in a quiet Parisian cafe, the smell of gardenias, and a hospital operating room smelling of bleach—crashed into my mind like a tidal wave.
“The car accident,” I whispered, clutching my head as memories violently realigned themselves. “It wasn’t an accident. They tried to kill us both.”
“They tried to kill you to stop the investigation,” Dominic confirmed, his voice heavy with ancient grief. “Eva survived long enough to give birth to Lily, but the poison they used on you damaged your brain, wiping your memory clean. I took you in secretly, wiped your police records, and hid you in plain sight in the city, hoping the Syndicate would think you were dead.”
He looked down at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “And when Lily was dying in that alley, something in your subconscious recognized her silver wolf bracelet. You didn’t just stumble into her life by chance, Julian. You came home.”
Before I could process the staggering weight of the revelation, a frantic voice crackled over Dominic’s comms earpiece.
“Boss! We have a security breach in the pediatric wing! Perimeter sensors are down! It’s an extraction team—they’re taking the girl!”
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Dominic’s face contorted into pure, unadulterated fury. He drew his twin pistols from his belt, cocking them with twin, metallic snaps.
“They want my bloodline?” Dominic roared, his voice echoing off the concrete walls. “I’ll give them a war.”
