Chapter 17 - The Fall of the Empire
Dominic reached into his vest and pulled out a small, red detonator.
"What is that?!" I gasped.
"When I rebuilt the estate and fortified my territories three months ago," Dominic said, his thumb hovering over the button, "I didn't just install cameras, Clara. I installed seismic thermite charges under every major Syndicate vault, every shipping port, and every warehouse in Chicago."
I stared at him in absolute awe. Dominic hadn't just prepared for Lydia—he had prepared for the entire Syndicate turning on him!
"If they want my empire," Dominic said, his dark eyes fixed on Lydia on the balcony above, "they can have the ashes."
Dominic pressed the detonator.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Miles away, huge reverberating explosions shook the foundation of Chicago. On Lydia's mercenaries' tactical radios, panic erupted:
"HQ is gone! The port is on fire! The central vault just collapsed!"
"All Syndicate assets are burning! We have no comms! Repeat, all assets are destroyed!"
Lydia’s face went completely pale on the balcony. "No... NO! MY MONEY!"
In the confusion and panic that seized the remaining hitmen, Dominic grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the church’s ancient bell tower stairwell.
"The old storm drains!" Dominic yelled over the alarm sirens filling the city. "They lead straight to the river! Move!"
We kicked open the wooden door to the bell tower, sprinting down the spiral stone steps into the pitch-black tunnels under the city.
Behind us, we could hear Lydia screaming like a wild animal, her footsteps echoing down the stairs as she pursued us alone, driven completely insane by the loss of her fortune.
"DOMINIC!" she shrieked, firing her weapon blindly into the dark tunnel. "YOU DESTROYED EVERYTHING! I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL YOUR SON!"
Dominic stopped in the dark tunnel.
He pushed me behind a concrete pillar, turning around to face his ex-wife.
Lydia burst through the dark corridor, her hair tangled, her suit covered in soot, her gun pointed straight at Dominic’s face.
"It's over, Dominic," she panted, her finger tightening on the trigger. "You have nothing left. No empire, no money, no men."
"You're right, Lydia," Dominic said calmly, taking a step toward her gun. "I don't have an empire anymore."
He suddenly raised his hand, showing her the empty micro-drive casing.
"And you don't have the ledger."
Lydia froze. "What...?"
Dominic stepped aside, revealing me standing behind the pillar. But I wasn't holding the micro-drive. I was holding my phone, the screen showing a completed live upload to the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Prosecutor Miller's direct terminal.
"The real ledger was uploaded five minutes ago," I said softly. "The moment the church Wi-Fi connected to my dress's hidden relay."
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Lydia’s gun trembled. "You... you trapped me..."
Sirens began to wail directly above the storm drain—dozens of Federal Task Force vehicles surrounding the river exit.
