Chapter 9 - CheckmateVictor’s finger tightened on the trigger of his pistol.
In that fraction of a second, the air in the study felt frozen in time. Dominic didn't flinch. He didn't blink. He simply looked at Victor with a gaze so utterly devoid of fear that it made the traitor hesitate.
"You think I didn't know?" Dominic asked softly.
Victor’s eyes widened slightly. "What?"
"For three months, Victor, every financial leak, every routed shipping manifest, every federal tip-off pointed straight to your offshore accounts in the Caymans," Dominic said, his voice stepping forward like a slow, deliberate executioner. "I didn't need the flash drive to know you were the rat. I needed you to lead me to the people backing you."
Before Victor could react or pull the trigger, the heavy double doors of the study blew inward with a deafening crash.
Bang!
A single, perfectly placed round from Marcus Vance’s tactical rifle struck Victor’s wrist. The pistol flew out of his hand, clattering against the mahogany floor as Victor screamed in agony, clutching his bleeding hand.
Marcus stepped through the doorway, his rifle raised, flanked by four armed guards.
"Clear," Marcus said coldly, glaring down at his disgraced cousin. "Traitorous bastard. I’m ashamed to share a last name with you."
Victor collapsed to his knees, clutching his shattered wrist, his face drained of all color as he looked up at Dominic, who stood over him like an avenging angel.
Dominic bent down, picking up the small silver flash drive that had slipped from Victor’s fingers. He slipped it safely into his breast pocket.
"Take him to the basement holding cells," Dominic ordered without emotion. "Let him think about what he traded his life for."
As the guards hauled the screaming, broken traitor away, Dominic turned toward the hidden wall panel behind the desk. He tapped the biometric scanner.
The panel slid open.
Sophia stepped out of the panic room, holding a sleeping Emma tightly in her arms. Her face was pale, tear-stained, but her chin was held high with incredible, fierce courage.
"Is it... is it over?" Sophia whispered.
Dominic walked toward them. The harsh, terrifying warlord of the New York underworld melted away, leaving only a man who had finally found something worth protecting.
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He gently reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Emma’s forehead as she slept peacefully against her mother's chest.
"It’s over," Dominic said, his voice softer than Sophia had ever heard it. "You’re safe now, Sophia. James’s name is cleared. And no one will ever hurt you again."
