Chapter 2 - THE ENEMY IN THE MIRRORThe heavy mahogany door of the study clicked shut, locking Jack Mercer inside with a silence that felt heavier than lead.
Dominic didn’t draw his weapon. In his world, a drawn gun meant you were still thinking about mercy. A cold, absolute stillness meant you were already past it.
"Explain," Dominic said. His voice was a low, velvet-wrapped blade.
Jack swallowed hard. The chief of security, a man who had taken three bullets in the South American cartels and never flinched, looked like a drowning sailor. His eyes darted to the window, then back to Dominic’s face.
"Boss… I—I didn't mean it like that. It was just a routine check of the manifest logs when Paige's name came up across the private flight databases—"
"I never told you she flew out on the seventeenth," Dominic interrupted. He stepped around the desk, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the Turkish rug. "I told you to find Paige. I never gave you a date. You knew the date because you were tracking her movements before I even asked."
Jack’s hand twitched toward his holster. It was a fatal mistake.
Before Jack’s fingers could clear leather, Dominic’s hand lashed out, catching the security chief by the throat and slamming him backward against the reinforced glass of the bookshelf. Books rained down in a thunderous avalanche, but Dominic didn't notice. His fingers tightened, cutting off Jack’s air.
"Who do you work for, Jack?" Dominic whispered, his face inches from the other man's turning-purple skin. "Is it the Syndicate? The federal task force? Or did someone buy my loyal dog a new collar?"
"I… I had to…" Jack gasped, clawing at Dominic’s iron grip. "She’s… she’s already taken, Boss. They have Paige. They have the girl."
"Who has her?"
"The architect."
Dominic froze. The name hung in the air like poison gas.
The Architect. A phantom figure in the international underworld—an unseen mastermind who orchestrated corporate collapses, rigged elections, and wiped entire families off the census without leaving a digital footprint.
"The Architect doesn't care about my shipping contracts," Dominic said, his eyes narrowing. "He wants my empire. And to break me, he didn't just target my business. He targeted my house."
Dominic released his grip, letting Jack slump to the floor, gasping and coughing. Dominic wiped his hand with a linen handkerchief as if touching garbage.
"Jack," Dominic said coldly, turning his back. "You were the first man I trusted with my life outside the gates. That means you’ll be the first man I feed to the tide. Take him to the lower vault."
As two guards dragged the weeping security chief away, Dominic picked up his phone. He dialed the east guest suite.
Claire answered on the first ring.
"He lied to me," Dominic said without preamble. "Jack knew about the seventeenth. He knew about Paige. You planted that bug because you had no choice. They were holding your sister."
A soft, shuddering sob came through the receiver.
"They said if I didn't record your voice talking about the port authorities, Paige would lose her fingers one by one," Claire whispered, her voice cracking with raw, unbearable grief. "They gave me the device. They told me where to put it. And when I saw the hidden camera… I knew you’d find it, Dominic. I left the green light blinking on purpose. I wanted you to see it. I wanted you to save us."
Dominic stared at the antique clock on his desk.
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"You walked into a lion's den to save your sister," Dominic said slowly. "And you gambled that I was smart enough to figure out your breadcrumbs before the wedding."
"The wedding is in eleven days, Dominic," Claire wept softly. "And the Architect’s men are coming for the house on the night of the ceremony. They aren't just going to rob you. They’re going to blow the entire estate off the map."
