Chapter 6 - The Letter From a Dead ManEighteen months after the wedding, Dominic Wolfe learned that the dead could still send messages.
It happened on an ordinary Tuesday morning.
Ordinary had become one of his favorite words.
For most of Dominic’s adult life, ordinary meant weakness. Ordinary men worried about mortgages, school schedules, grocery lists, and whether they had remembered an anniversary.
Dominic had worried about bullets.
He had worried about rival organizations, federal investigations, internal betrayal, and whether the man sitting across from him intended to shake his hand or kill him.
Now he stood barefoot inside the kitchen of the apartment he shared with his wife, attempting to make pancakes.
Alora leaned against the counter in one of his old shirts and watched him destroy the third batch.
“You are burning them again.”
“I am aware.”
“You said that about the last ones.”
“I was aware then too.”
She smiled.
Dominic glanced toward her.
“You are enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
“I can cook.”
“You can cook complicated Italian food.”
“Yes.”
“You can prepare steak perfectly.”
“Yes.”
“You can make risotto without measuring anything.”
“Yes.”
“But pancakes defeat you.”
Dominic stared at the blackened circle inside the pan.
“They are structurally dishonest.”
Alora laughed so hard she had to place her coffee on the counter.
He loved that sound.
Even after everything they had survived, even after marriage and eighteen months of waking beside her, her laughter still affected him in ways he found difficult to explain.
Sometimes Dominic woke during the night and simply looked at her.
His wife.
The frightened librarian from the abandoned gallery had become the center of the life he never expected to possess.
She had finished the first draft of her novel six weeks earlier. A literary agent had requested revisions. Dominic pretended to understand publishing while secretly researching every agency, editor, contract term, and royalty structure he could find.
Alora knew what he was doing.
She allowed him to pretend she did not.
Their marriage was not peaceful because neither of them was naturally peaceful.
Dominic remained overprotective.
Alora remained stubborn.
They argued.
She occasionally accused him of treating normal inconveniences like assassination attempts.
He occasionally accused her of treating actual security concerns like invitations to adventure.
Then one of them would apologize.
Usually him.
Eventually.
The apartment smelled of coffee and burned pancakes when the intercom sounded.
Dominic immediately looked toward the entrance.
Alora noticed.
“You still do that.”
“What?”
“Become Dominic Wolfe, terrifying former crime boss, every time the doorbell rings.”
“The doorbell may contain information.”
“The doorbell contains a delivery person.”
“Potentially.”
She kissed his cheek while passing him.
“I will answer it.”
“No.”
“Dominic.”
“I will answer it.”
He removed the pan from the stove and walked toward the entrance.
Alora followed while shaking her head.
The building’s security desk confirmed that a courier had delivered an envelope.
No return address.
No company identification.
The concierge had scanned it.
No obvious threat.
Dominic’s body tightened anyway.
“Do not touch it.”
Alora crossed her arms.
“It is paper.”
“Paper has killed people.”
“How?”
“Anthrax.”
“That happened once.”
“Once establishes possibility.”
She gave him the expression that had defeated armed men, arrogant executives, and occasionally him.
“Have security bring it upstairs.”
Ten minutes later, the envelope sat on the dining table.
Dominic wore gloves.
Alora stared.
“You know you look ridiculous.”
“I look cautious.”
“You look like you are performing surgery on stationery.”
He ignored her.
The envelope was cream-colored.
Thick.
Old-fashioned.
On the front, someone had written only one word.
Dominic.
His breathing changed.
Alora saw it.
“What is it?”
He did not answer.
He recognized the handwriting.
For several seconds, he simply stared.
Then he sat.
“Dominic?”
“That is Leo’s handwriting.”
The room became silent.
Alora looked again at the envelope.
Leo Wolfe had been dead for years.
The brother whose death had shaped Dominic into something colder.
The man Serena betrayed.
The man Dominic still visited at the cemetery every month.
“That is impossible.”
“I know his handwriting.”
Dominic’s voice had become distant.
“He wrote notes everywhere. Grocery lists. Addresses. Instructions. When we were teenagers, he used to leave messages beneath my bedroom door whenever our father was angry with us.”
He touched the envelope without opening it.
“I would recognize it anywhere.”
Alora sat beside him.
“Open it.”
His fingers remained still.
“You are afraid.”
Dominic almost denied it.
Instead, he nodded.
“Yes.”
Alora placed her hand over his.
“Then we open it together.”
He broke the seal.
A photograph fell onto the table.
Dominic stopped breathing.
The picture showed Leo.
Alive.
Smiling.
He stood beside a young woman Dominic did not recognize.
She had red hair, pale skin, and one hand resting against Leo’s chest.
The photograph appeared to have been taken years earlier.
Before the ambush.
Before Serena.
Before Leo died protecting his brother.
Dominic turned the photograph over.
Three words had been written on the back.
Protect my daughter.
Alora’s eyes widened.
“There is more.”
A folded letter remained inside.
Dominic opened it.
The writing was unmistakably Leo’s.
Dom,
If you are reading this, either I finally became brave enough to tell you the truth, or something happened before I could.
Knowing our lives, I assume the second possibility.
Her name is Maeve Callahan.
I met her three years ago.
She is not part of our world, and I never wanted her to become part of it.
We have a daughter.
Her name is Evelyn.
She was born on November 14.
You are an uncle.
I know you are probably furious that I kept this from you. Be angry later.
First, protect them.
No one knows.
Not Father.
Not Serena.
Not Jax.
Not even you.
I kept Maeve and Evelyn separate because our name destroys everything it touches.
If I die, I need you to find them.
Do not bring them into the organization.
Do not use them as leverage.
Do not turn Evelyn into a Wolfe soldier.
Let her become whatever she wants.
There is also something you need to know.
I discovered someone inside our financial structure moving money through companies we did not authorize.
I thought it was Roman Cross.
I was wrong.
Roman was involved, but he was not the architect.
Someone else financed the operation that targeted us.
Someone who has been waiting for both of us to disappear.
I placed everything I discovered inside a deposit box registered under Maeve’s name.
If I am dead, the person responsible may eventually look for it.
Find Maeve before they do.
Please.
You are the only person I trust to finish what I could not.
And Dom—
None of what happened to me was your fault.
You spent your entire life believing you had to protect me because I protected you when we were children.
That was never how I saw it.
You were my brother.
I would choose you every time.
If I died choosing you, then at least I died exactly as I lived.
Loving you.
Leo.
Dominic lowered the letter.
He did not move.
Alora had seen him wounded.
She had seen him furious.
She had watched him terrified when Roman held a knife against her throat.
She had never seen him look like this.
Destroyed and healed simultaneously.
“He knew,” Dominic whispered.
“What?”
“He knew I blamed myself.”
His voice broke.
“All these years.”
Alora wrapped both arms around him.
Dominic covered his face.
The tears came without resistance.
“He said it was not my fault.”
“Yes.”
“I spent years believing—”
“I know.”
“He knew.”
Alora held him while the grief he had carried for so long finally changed shape.
Not disappearing.
Grief never disappeared simply because someone gave permission.
But the guilt inside it cracked.
For several minutes, Dominic cried against his wife’s shoulder.
Then his attention returned to the photograph.
“My niece.”
Alora touched the image.
“How old would she be now?”
Dominic calculated.
“Almost seven.”
A seven-year-old girl existed somewhere in the world carrying Leo’s blood.
His brother had been a father.
Dominic had been an uncle for years without knowing.
“How did this arrive now?” Alora asked.
That question changed the room.
Dominic’s old instincts returned.
He examined the envelope.
“No postal markings.”
“Meaning?”
“It was delivered by hand.”
“Someone had the letter.”
“Yes.”
“And waited years.”
“Yes.”
Alora looked toward him.
“Why now?”
Dominic reached for his phone.
“Because something changed.”
He called Jax.
Jax answered on the second ring.
“If this is about the investment meeting, I already told—”
“Come here.”
Silence.
Jax heard something in Dominic’s voice.
“What happened?”
“Bring Ruby.”
Another pause.
“Dominic.”
“I received a letter from Leo.”
Jax stopped breathing on the other end.
“I will be there in fifteen minutes.”
He arrived in eleven.
Ruby came with him.
Dominic placed the photograph and letter on the table.
Jax read everything twice.
He looked toward the ceiling afterward as though attempting to control an emotion he would not allow anyone to witness.
“That bastard.”
Ruby frowned.
“Leo?”
“He had a daughter and never told me.”
Jax wiped both hands over his face.
“I changed that man’s bandages. I covered for him when Dominic wanted to kill him for disappearing for weekends. He told me he was playing poker.”
Dominic looked at him.
“You told me he was playing poker.”
“I believed him.”
Ruby picked up the photograph.
“She looks happy.”
Jax studied Maeve.
“I have never seen her.”
“Neither have I,” Dominic said.
“Can you find her?”
Jax immediately took out his phone.
“If Maeve Callahan still uses the same name, probably.”
“Quietly.”
“I know.”
“No Wolfe contacts unless necessary.”
Jax looked at him.
“You are worried whoever sent this is watching.”
“Yes.”
Dominic stood.
His transition was complete now.
The grieving brother had disappeared behind the man who once commanded half of Boston.
Alora recognized him immediately.
Not the criminal.
The strategist.
“We need to assume Leo’s warning remains active,” Dominic said. “Someone financed Roman. Someone remained hidden after Cross died. If that person learned about Maeve or the deposit box—”
“They might be moving now,” Jax finished.
Ruby frowned.
“Wait. If Leo hid Maeve so well that none of you knew about her, how did whoever delivered the letter find this apartment?”
Dominic looked at her.
“That is exactly the problem.”
Jax’s phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
His face changed.
“What?”
“I found a Maeve Callahan matching the age range.”
He turned the phone.
“She lived in Portland, Maine, until six months ago.”
“And now?”
“No current address.”
“Evelyn?”
“Enrolled in an elementary school there until February.”
Alora felt cold.
“Why did they disappear?”
Jax continued searching.
“There is more.”
He looked at Dominic.
“Maeve filed a police report four days before withdrawing Evelyn from school.”
“For what?”
“Someone broke into her house.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“Anything stolen?”
“The report says no valuables were missing.”
Alora understood.
“They were searching.”
“Yes.”
Jax looked at the letter.
“For the deposit box information.”
Dominic took his jacket from the chair.
“Find the bank.”
“I need time.”
“Use Leo’s old financial records. Look for payments connected to Maine, storage fees, legal retainers, anything.”
He turned toward Alora.
She already knew.
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“No?”
“You are about to tell me to remain here.”
“Yes.”
“I am your wife.”
“That is unrelated.”
“It is completely related.”
“Alora.”
“Dominic.”
Ruby quietly moved toward the kitchen.
Jax followed.
Neither wanted to stand between them.
“You disappeared into danger alone for most of your life,” Alora said. “You do not do that anymore.”
“I am not bringing you near whoever targeted my brother.”
“You do not even know where you are going.”
“I will.”
“And when you do, we go together.”
His expression hardened.
“No.”
Alora stepped close enough to place both hands on his chest.
“You changed your entire life because you wanted a future with me. A future means partnership.”
“This is not a museum visit.”
“I am aware.”
“This involves the people who may have arranged Leo’s death.”
“I am aware.”
“They may already be hunting a seven-year-old child.”
“Which is exactly why I am going.”
Dominic stared at her.
She lowered her voice.
“If Evelyn has spent six months frightened and hiding with her mother, what do you think she needs when strangers finally find her? Four terrifying men in black suits?”
Jax called from the kitchen.
“She has a point.”
Dominic looked toward him.
“You were not invited into this conversation.”
“I know.”
Ruby added, “She still has a point.”
Dominic returned his attention to Alora.
“You remain close to me.”
“Fine.”
“You follow every instruction if something happens.”
“I will follow reasonable instructions.”
“Alora.”
“I will follow them.”
“That sounded suspicious.”
“It is the best agreement you are getting.”
Dominic closed his eyes briefly.
Marriage had changed him in numerous ways.
Apparently one of those ways was learning that losing arguments could still constitute survival.
He opened his eyes.
“Fine.”
Alora kissed him.
“Thank you.”
“I am already regretting this.”
Jax returned with his phone.
“I found something.”
They gathered around the table.
“Leo paid annual fees on a safe-deposit box through an attorney in Portland. The payments stopped after his death, but the attorney’s trust continued covering them.”
“Which bank?”
Jax gave the name.
Dominic reached for the photograph.
“We find Maeve first.”
Ruby touched Alora’s arm.
“What if she does not want anything to do with the Wolfe family?”
Dominic looked at Leo’s handwriting.
“Then we protect her from a distance and leave her alone.”
His thumb moved over his brother’s final words.
“But first I need to know she is alive.”
That afternoon, four people left Boston quietly.
No motorcade.
No visible security.
No Wolfe insignia.
They traveled north in two ordinary vehicles while Jax continued searching.
At 4:17 p.m., he received the first real lead.
A credit card registered to Maeve Callahan had been used thirty minutes earlier.
At a gas station outside Camden, Maine.
Dominic looked through the windshield toward the highway disappearing beneath a gray autumn sky.
“How far?”
Jax checked navigation.
“Ninety-three miles.”
Alora reached across the center console and took Dominic’s hand.
He tightened his fingers around hers.
Somewhere ahead, a woman Dominic had never met was running with the last living piece of his brother.
And somewhere behind her, someone else was searching too.
Dominic looked at Leo’s photograph one more time.
“I am coming,” he whispered.
May you like
Then his eyes hardened.
“And whoever is hunting your daughter is going to wish I stayed buried with you.”
Related Stories
