Chapter 8 - The Shadow Syndicate FallsThree days later, hidden in an undisclosed safehouse deep in the Wisconsin woods, the final chess pieces fell into place.
Dominic Ashford sat at a rustic wooden table, illuminated by a single overhead bulb, reviewing intercepted communication logs between Salvatore Moretti and corrupt federal officials. Across the table sat Carter, looking grim.
"Moretti is holed up at his shipping yard on the South Branch," Carter reported. "He thinks we're broken. He thinks burning the estate destroyed our ledgers."
Dominic looked up, a cold, predatory smile playing on his lips. "He forgets that I built my empire in the shadows, not the sunlight. Send the files to the FBI's anti-corruption division. And dispatch our strike team to the docks. Tonight, we end it."
Before Carter could leave, the door opened quietly, and Isla stepped into the room. She wore a simple black sweater, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail, holding a tray with a steaming cup of black coffee and fresh bandages.
Dominic’s expression instantly softened. The ruthless mafia boss vanished, leaving only the man who had staked his entire existence on a trauma nurse.
"You should be resting," Dominic said, standing up to take the tray from her hands.
"I'm a nurse, Ashford. Resting is against my religion," Isla retorted lightly, though her eyes betrayed a deep, lingering anxiety. "You're going after Moretti tonight."
"It ends tonight," Dominic confirmed quietly.
May you like
Isla stepped closer, reaching out to adjust the collar of his shirt. Her fingers brushed against his neck, lingering there for a moment too long. "Promise me you'll come back."
Dominic caught her hand, pressing his lips softly against her knuckles. "I survived four bullet wounds, a burning mansion, and the most stubborn nurse in Chicago. Moretti doesn't stand a chance."
