Chapter 3 - The Background Check
An hour passed in agonizing silence. The distant thrum of the nightclub’s sound system was the only reminder that a normal world existed somewhere beyond the soundproofed oak door. Harper sat frozen in her chair, her eyes tracking the movements of the four guards who stood like sentinels around the room. None of them spoke. None of them so much as shifted their weight.
Dominic sat behind the massive mahogany desk, tapping away on a thin black laptop. The glow of the screen illuminated the harsh angles of his face, emphasizing the sharp ridge of his nose and the faint white scar that ran along his jawline. He possessed a terrifying composure, working with absolute focus despite the lingering tension in the room.
Suddenly, the encrypted phone on the desk chimed with a low double-beep.
Vance stepped forward, but Dominic held up a single finger, taking the call himself. He placed the phone to his ear. “Talk to me, Marco.”
Harper held her breath, her hands tightening into fists against her skirt. She listened frantically, trying to decipher the silence on Dominic’s end of the line.
Dominic listened in complete silence for nearly two minutes. His dark eyes drifted over to Harper, studying her with a cool, analytical scrutiny that made her feel entirely exposed. “Did you check the fiancé?” Dominic asked quietly.
A pause.
“And the girl?” Dominic continued.
Another pause.
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of Dominic’s lips, though his eyes remained dark and serious. “Good. Send the file to my pad. Clear the alley team.”
He ended the call and laid the phone back down on the desk. He leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he looked at Harper.
“Well?” Harper asked, unable to bear the silence any longer. Her voice was raspy from crying and tension. “Did your man find out I’m telling the truth?”
“Your name is indeed Harper Reed,” Dominic began, his deep voice filling the quiet space. “You have worked at Sterling & Associates for three years as a junior auditor. You have no criminal record, not even a parking ticket. Your taxes are immaculate—which, I suppose, speaks well of your professional competence.”
Harper let out a small, ragged breath. “I told you.”
“You also live in a two-bedroom apartment,” Dominic continued, ignoring her interruption. “Lease is in your name and that of one Caleb Thorne. He works in medical sales. Or rather, he attempts to.”
At the mention of Caleb’s name, the dull ache in Harper’s chest returned with a fresh, sharp sting. She looked down at her lap, unable to maintain eye contact.
“According to my manager downstairs,” Dominic said, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the desk, “Mr. Thorne has been running up a rather impressive bar tab in my VIP lounge for the past six months. Usually accompanied by a blonde woman named Chloe Vance. It appears Mr. Thorne has been using your joint credit account to fund his nocturnal activities.”
Harper’s head snapped up, shock momentarily replacing her fear. “What? My credit account?”
“Twelve thousand dollars in charges over the last ninety days,” Dominic stated calmly, as if reading off a mundane financial report. “It seems your fiancé was not only betraying your trust romantically, Miss Reed. He was bleeding you dry financially to impress your best friend.”
The realization hit Harper like a physical blow. The missing funds she had noticed last month, the excuses Caleb had made about investment opportunities, the sudden generosity with dinners—it had all been a lie. He hadn't just broken her heart; he had systematically ruined her life while she worked overtime to support them both.
A fresh tear spilled over her lashes, but this time, it was not born of grief. It was born of cold, sharp fury.
Dominic watched the transformation on her face carefully. He saw the shift from fragile victim to anger-fueled reality. He stood up from his desk and walked over, stopping beside her chair.
“You were telling the truth,” Dominic admitted softly. “You are an innocent bystander who had the distinct misfortune of choosing the wrong door to cry behind.”
“So I can go?” Harper asked, looking up at him through her lashes.
Dominic tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Normally, yes. I would have Vance escort you out the back entrance and throw you into a cab.” He paused, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse jump. “However, there is a small complication.”
“What complication?” Harper asked nervously.
“When you ran up those stairs, Caleb Thorne saw you,” Dominic explained quietly. “He followed you into the private corridor. My men picked him up outside the door five minutes ago while he was searching for you.”
Harper gasped. “Caleb is outside?”
“He was,” Dominic corrected smoothly. “Until my men informed him that this area belongs to the Vulpes family. Upon hearing my name, your fiancé did something rather fascinating, Miss Reed.”
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“What did he do?”
Dominic’s eyes hardened, a cold, dangerous glint surfacing in their depths. “He offered to trade information about your accounting firm’s corporate clients in exchange for clearing his bar debt and being allowed to walk away. He threw you to the wolves without a second thought to save his own skin.”
