Chapter 7 - The New DominionSix months later.
The financial district of Manhattan was humming with its usual relentless energy. People rushed along the sidewalks, hailing cabs, checking their phones, trading millions in seconds.
Inside the top-floor office of Keane Meridian Capital, the view of the harbor was breathtaking.
Mara Bennett stepped into my office, dropping a thick dossier onto my desk.
“The Mercer Dominion asset restructuring is officially complete,” Mara reported, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. “We sold off the failing southwestern resorts, restructured the commercial real estate holdings into a profitable REIT, and rebranded the entire parent company under the Keane umbrella.”
“And Grant and Preston?” I asked, not looking up from a shipping manifest.
“Grant took a plea deal—five years in federal prison for securities fraud and wire tampering. Preston is facing three years at a minimum-security facility in upstate New York. And Claudia moved into a modest two-bedroom condo in New Jersey after her society friends blocked her phone numbers.”
I nodded slowly. “And Sloan?”
“She filed for divorce immediately after the asset freeze,” Mara said. “She took her two hundred thousand dollars, moved out of Manhattan, and according to our private investigators, she’s currently working as an assistant manager at a boutique hotel in Boston.”
I paused. Boston.
Where we had first met, years ago, over spilled coffee and ruined notes.
“Leave her be,” I said quietly.
“Will do,” Mara replied, turning to leave the office. Before she reached the door, she paused and looked back. “By the way, Mr. Keane, the board meeting in London is confirmed for next Tuesday. Your private jet is fueled.”
“Cancel it,” I said.
Mara blinked. “Cancel it? Boss, that’s a billion-dollar acquisition meeting.”
I stood up, walking over to the glass wall to watch the ships moving slowly across the Hudson River.
“Let them fly to New York,” I said, a slight smile touching my lips. “If they want my capital, they can come to my office. I’m done chasing people who only respect the suit.”
Mara chuckled, shook her head, and closed the office door behind her.
May you like
I stood alone in the quiet sunlight, listening to the steady, reassuring tick of a gold pocket watch resting on my desk—not a monument to what I owned, but a reminder of who I was.
Some men build empires to prove their worth to the world.
