Chapter 17 - The Final Audit
By midnight, the blood had been washed from the third-floor command center, and the encrypted files recovered from David Brooks’s workstation had been fully decrypted.
Sitting in the private study, Dominic poured two glasses of aged bourbon, handing one to me as I sat curled up in the large leather armchair. The mansion outside was wrapped in a deep, peaceful stillness, the kind of quiet that only came after a storm had swept clean every trace of corruption.
“Vance’s entire network in Manhattan has been rounded up by the feds,” Dominic said, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Without David feeding him inside information, the accountant tried to flee to Zurich on a private charter. The authorities picked him up on the tarmac an hour ago.”
“So it’s really over?” I asked, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “No more moles? No more syndicates waiting in the dark?”
“It’s over,” Dominic confirmed, sitting down on the edge of the desk facing me. He reached out, gently taking my hand in his. “The Moretti syndicate is clean. We control the ports legally now, through legitimate shipping and import LLCs. No more hiding in the shadows.”
I looked down at our intertwined fingers, remembering the terrified housekeeper who had walked through those iron gates six years ago with nothing more than a baby and a prayer.
“You know,” I murmured with a faint smile, “when I first came here, I thought you were the most terrifying man alive.”
Dominic let out a low, warm laugh, his dark eyes softening. “I was terrifying. And you were the only person in this house brave enough to look past the suit, the guns, and the reputation.”
The door to the private study gently creaked open.
We both looked up. Lily stood on the threshold, rubbing her eyes sleepily, wearing her favorite dinosaur pajamas and dragging her worn-out plush teddy bear behind her.
“Mommy?” she whispered softly. “Can I sleep in here with you and Dominic tonight? I had a bad dream.”
Dominic didn't hesitate. He stood up immediately, walked across the room, and scooped Lily up into his arms, lifting her high against his chest as she giggled softly.
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“You don’t ever have to have a bad dream again, little one,” Dominic said, carrying her over to the leather sofa and sitting down with her nestled safely between us.
I leaned my head against Dominic’s shoulder, watching Lily drift back to sleep in the safety of our arms. The past was buried, the enemies were gone, and the future—once so uncertain and terrifying—stretched out before us, bright and entirely secure.
