Chapter 9 - The Reckoning
“NO! DOMINIC!” I screamed, hitting the boat’s throttle as gunfire erupted behind the iron bars.
Sparks flew off the iron gate. Through the smoke, I saw Dominic standing tall, firing his weapon with ruthless, military precision, dropping two hitmen instantly as he moved like a force of nature.
I engaged the boat’s engines. The powerful twin motors roared to life, cutting through the freezing waves of Lake Michigan, pulling Noah and Lydia away from the burning mansion.
Behind us, the magnificent Lake Forest estate was engulfed in towering orange flames, illuminating the dark night sky.
Twenty minutes later, the boat docked at a private marina in downtown Chicago, where ten black SUVs with blacked-out windows were already waiting.
Door swung open, and dozens of Dominic’s loyal mob captains stepped out, weapons drawn.
“Miss Reed?” the lead captain, a gray-haired man named Vincenzo, asked, stepping forward. “Where is Mr. Vale?”
“He’s trapped at the estate!” I yelled, handing Noah to a trusted female guard. “Send everyone! NOW!”
Before Vincenzo could order his men into the vehicles, a sleek, battered black sedan pulled into the marina, its tires smoking and doors riddled with bullet holes.
The driver’s door opened.
Dominic Vale stepped out.
His suit jacket was gone. His white shirt was soaked in blood—none of it his own. He held a bloody steel knife in his left hand and Marcus Moretti’s signature gold signet ring in his right.
He threw the ring onto the wet concrete at Vincenzo’s feet.
“Moretti is dead,” Dominic declared, his voice cutting through the wind. “His lieutenants are dead. Clean up the house.”
The entire syndicate bowed their heads in absolute submission.
Dominic walked slowly toward us. He looked at his wife, who was receiving oxygen from a paramedic in the back of an SUV. Then, he looked at Noah, who was reaching his arms out for his father.
Dominic knelt down, taking his son into his arms for the first time in two years. Noah buried his face in Dominic’s neck, weeping softly.
Then, Dominic stood up and turned to me.
He walked over until he was standing inches away. He reached out his gloved hand and gently wiped a drop of dry blood from my cheek.
“You saved my family, Clara,” Dominic whispered.
May you like
“I just did my job,” I said, tears blurring my vision.
“No,” Dominic murmured, his dark eyes burning with a fiery, intense warmth that made my heart skip a beat. “You did far more than that.”
