Chapter 16 - THE CONSERVATORY MEETINGThe twentieth-floor conservatory was a glass-enclosed indoor garden filled with towering ficus trees, orchids, and soft, warm lamplight that shielded the space from the freezing New York winter outside.
When I stepped out of the private elevator, Dominic was standing near the glass edge, looking out over the glittering skyline of Manhattan. He looked hollowed out. His custom tuxedo from the gala was gone, replaced by a rumpled wool sweater and dark circles under his hollow eyes.
He didn't turn around immediately when I approached.
"Do you remember this place, Nora?" Dominic asked, his voice rough and unsteady. "Before we moved to the penthouse... we used to sit on the roof of our old brownstone in Brooklyn and talk about building something that would last forever."
"You built an empire on sand, Dominic," I said, stopping a safe distance away, my arms crossed over my blazer. "And you used everyone who ever trusted you as the foundation."
Dominic finally turned to face me. A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched his lips. "I thought power was everything. I thought if I controlled the money, the brand, and the public narrative, I would never feel small again."
"And instead, you became the smallest man in the room," I replied, my voice devoid of anger—only a cold, piercing clarity. "Why are you here, Dominic? If you're looking for sympathy, you're looking in the wrong place."
"I'm not looking for sympathy," he whispered, taking a slow step toward me, though he stopped when he saw me tense up. "I'm here to tell you... I'm leaving New York."
I raised an eyebrow. "Leaving?"
"The federal investigators are closing in. The banks have seized my personal accounts. My attorneys have all abandoned ship," Dominic laughed hollowly, shaking his head. "I'm facing five to ten years in federal prison for corporate fraud and racketeering. A private jet is waiting at Teterboro Airport tonight. I'm going to Europe. Or South America. Anywhere they won't extradite me."
I stared at him, realizing the tragic irony of his fate. He had spent his entire life running toward power, and now he was running away from the very wreckage of his own making.
"Goodbye, Dominic," I said softly, turning my back to walk toward the elevator.
"Nora!" His voice cracked, stopping me in my tracks. "Was any of it real? The church in Connecticut? The promises?"
May you like
I paused, looking back over my shoulder one last time.
"The promises were real, Dominic," I said quietly. "You were just the only one who didn't know how to keep them."
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