At Romanos’ Charity Evening I Danced with Another Man, and Then Damien Told Me Something About My Father That Made Victoria’s Smile Disappear

That evening, at Damien Romano’s mansion, I learned the truth about my father’s death—but before that, his fiancée humiliated me in front of the entire hall.

For four years I arranged Damien’s meetings, corrected his mistakes, and knew exactly how many drops of milk should be poured into his coffee. In his life I existed like a clock hanging on the wall: necessary, quiet, and unnoticed.

But that night I was wearing a dress.

Silver, with a high collar, which Victoria Sinclair had sent me. A small glass shell hung from the collar, so tiny that it could be seen only from close up. My father had brought me such a shell from a seaside town in childhood and told me that the sound of the waves would always protect me. That shell was the only thing that remained with me after his death.

“Tonight you are a guest, Sophie,” Victoria told me at eight in the evening, when I was checking the list of names at the door. “Do not stand beside the buffet. Even Romano employees can sometimes look like human beings.”

A huge diamond glittered on her finger. She examined my silver shell and slightly lifted her lip.

“Is this accessory an inheritance? Or simply cheap sentimentality?”

“It can be both,” I answered.

Her smile disappeared for one second.

The hall shone golden. The light descending from the chandeliers spread across champagne glasses, while outside the wind from Lake Michigan struck the glass doors. Three hundred wealthy guests talked about money, ships, and who could stand beside Romano.

And I was trying not to run into Damien.

In vain.

Ethan Brooks spoke to me at the bar. He had a warm voice and wore a dark wooden ring on his fingers.

“You have the face of someone making an escape plan,” he told me.

“I have been making one for four years.”

“And why aren’t you running?”

“I haven’t found the right door yet.”

He laughed. For the first time that evening, I laughed too. Then the music began to play slowly, and Ethan held out his hand.

“One dance. If you do not like it, I will not bother you for the rest of my life.”

“Such promises are dangerous.”

“Working with the Romanos is more dangerous, isn’t it?”

We danced.

Ninety seconds were enough for the air in the hall to change. First the conversations stopped, then the violin missed one note. Ethan’s hand was on my back, and I tilted my head back and was truly laughing.

That was when I saw Damien.

He was coming toward us. He was not hurrying. There was not a single wrinkle on his black jacket, but his jaw was clenched as if he were breaking something with his teeth.

He stopped in front of me and did not look at Ethan even once.

“Having fun?”

Four words. A calm voice. Still, the entire hall heard them.

“Yes,” I answered. “For the first time in a long while.”

Something flashed in Damien’s eyes. Not anger. Something more frightening.

“Mr. Brooks, Sophie has an early meeting in the morning.”

“Sophie herself knows when to leave,” Ethan said.

Only now did Damien look at him for the first time.

“That is her business.”

“Then ask her, not me.”

I stepped between them.

“Enough. Damien, today I am not your employee.”

“You are always my employee.”

“That is not an answer.”

He put his hand on the lower part of my back, as if I were still that invisible clock he was returning to its place. I immediately removed his hand and went out onto the terrace.

Outside, the wind blew up my dress. My little shell rattled against the collar.

“Four years have passed,” I said. “If you wanted something, you could have said it at least once.”

Damien took a folded photograph from his jacket. The corners had been folded so many times that the paper had softened like fabric.

“Do you know why I hired you?”

“Because I am good at my job.”

“Because your father asked me to.”

The wind seemed to stop blowing in a single second.

“My father died six years ago.”

“I know,” Damien said. “I was standing beside him that night.”

He extended the photograph toward me, but I had not taken it yet.

“What happened that night?”

For the first time, he looked away.

The terrace door opened. Victoria stood there, holding a wineglass. Behind her the head of security appeared and quietly said:

“Mr. Romano, the police are already in the building.”

Damien took a small black folder from beneath the photograph. His fingers touched its clasp, and the cold edge of the shell pressed against my neck when he said:

“Sophie, before you open this, you should know that your father did not die alone that night…”

And his hand pressed down on the clasp…

And his hand pressed down on the clasp…

There was only one sheet of paper in the folder. My childhood address was written on it, and below it I recognized my father’s handwriting.

“Where did you find this?” I asked.

“In your house, on the night the fire started.”

“There was no fire in our house.”

Damien fell silent.

Victoria placed her glass on the stone railing.

“Damien, we have to leave.”

“No,” I said. “First he has to tell me everything.”

Damien leaned toward me.

“Your father wanted me to protect you. But the people he was trying to escape from knew that you were the most precious thing to him.”

“Who were they?”

Heavy footsteps sounded from the corridor. The guards made way for two police officers. One of them was holding a sealed envelope.

Damien lost his color for the first time.

“Why are they here?” I asked.

“Because someone told them that evidence of your father’s murder was being kept with me.”

Victoria looked at me quickly.

“Sophie, if you have any sense, you will go with Damien now.”

“Why are you afraid?”

Her jaw twitched.

The police officers reached us. One of them handed the envelope to Damien.

“Mr. Romano, this is a court order. Open it and read it aloud.”

Damien looked at the envelope, then at me. For the first time in his eyes I saw not power, but a plea.

“Sophie, before I read this, you should know that your father left his last letter only for you…”

He broke the seal and took out the sheet…

He broke the seal and took out the sheet…

Damien unfolded the sheet. The wind fluttered its edge, but this time I did not stop him. I wanted to hear my father’s voice, even six years late.

Damien read:

“Sophie, if you ever read this, it means that I could no longer protect you. Do not trust Damien blindly, but know this: he bought your life at the price of his own life.”

The strength disappeared from my knees.

“Continue,” I told him.

Damien lowered his eyes.

“Weapons were being stolen on Romano’s ships for years. I discovered the accounts and also wrote down the names of the people who managed this operation. Victoria’s father, Alister Sinclair, was among them. When they threatened me that they would kill you, I asked Damien to stay close to you. He hired you as an employee so that he would know your every step and keep watch over you.”

Every voice in the hall disappeared.

Victoria chuckled, but the laugh stuck in her throat.

“This is a farce. A desperate letter from an old man.”

“My father was not desperate,” I said. “He was frightened. There is a big difference.”

Damien took out a second sheet.

“This is your father’s signature. It says that people came to your house that night in a vehicle belonging to Sinclair’s company.”

Victoria turned toward me.

“Do not dare accuse my family.”

“Then why did you know about my father’s letter?” I asked.

The color disappeared from her face.

The police officer took a small device from the folder and switched on the speaker. First there was crackling, then my father’s voice.

“Damien, if something happens to me, do not tell Sophie that our house burned down accidentally. Tell her that I found the man who gave the order.”

Then another voice sounded. Victoria’s voice.

“It is not necessary to kill him. If the girl survives, Damien will remain with her. In this way we will control both of them.”

Victoria took a step back.

“It is edited!”

“The recording was examined by the laboratory,” the police officer said. “And the messages extracted today from your own phone confirm the same voice.”

Ethan stopped beside me. His wooden ring touched the stone railing.

“Sophie, you have to get out of here,” he told me.

“Not yet.”

Damien closed the folder.

“I protected you for four years.”

“And you lied to me for four years.”

“If I told you the truth, they would find your trail.”

“Perhaps I had the right to know why a lie lived around me.”

Pain appeared in his eyes, but I could no longer give him permission to save me.

The police officers put handcuffs on Victoria. She looked at Damien.

“They will take you too. Everything in your company was illegal.”

“I know,” he answered calmly. “That is exactly why I gave them all the documents.”

Before I understood what this meant, a telephone rang at the end of the hall. The police officer answered, then his face changed.

“Sophie, this call is for you.”

He held the telephone out to me.

There was no voice of my father on the other side. A woman whispered to me:

“If you want to know why you survived and your father did not, come alone to the old harbor tomorrow morning. Do not tell Damien.”

The connection ended.

Damien saw my face and immediately understood that someone else had returned from the past.

“Sophie, do not go,” he said. “The person who called you may be your father’s murderer…”

But it was already too late. I squeezed the little shell pressed into my palm until it bled, because I knew that the hardest answer was still waiting for me in that harbor…