Chapter 8 - The Trap SpringsWithin twenty minutes of Victor’s departure, Dominic was standing in the center of the east wing study.
Julian sat in his wheelchair by the window, his expression cold and unreadable. Grace was standing near the bookshelf, calmly dusting the lower shelves with a microfiber cloth.
"Pack your bags," Dominic said, his voice trembling with a terrifying, suppressed fury.
Grace stopped moving. She slowly stood up, turning to face him.
"Am I fired, Mr. Vale?" she asked, her voice dangerously calm.
"You're leaving," Dominic snarled, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "Right now. Calvin has a car waiting at the front gate. You are going to take your things, get in, and never set foot on this property again."
Julian’s wheelchair spun around with a sharp scrape of rubber against wood. He grabbed his pen, yanked a notepad toward him, and began scribbling frantically. His hand shook so badly the pen tore through the paper.
He ripped the sheet off, spun his chair forward, and slammed the paper down on the desk.
Dominic looked down.
She stays. Or I leave with her.
Dominic stared at the words, his chest tightening as if an iron band were constricting his lungs. He looked from the paper to his brother, and then to Grace, whose eyes were suddenly swimming with a deep, sorrowful understanding.
"You don't understand, Julian," Dominic said, his voice cracking with an emotion he hadn't shown anyone since their mother died. "Victor was just here. He knows she worked for him. He knows she was in Chicago. She is a liability—a walking, breathing trojan horse designed to tear us apart!"
Grace walked slowly toward the desk. She didn't look at Dominic. She looked straight down at Julian.
"He's right, Julian," Grace said softly. "Your brother is trying to protect you. In his own terrified, controlling, surveillance-obsessed way... he’s trying to keep you safe from a world he thinks only has room for predators and prey."
She turned her gaze to Dominic, her dark eyes flashing with a sudden, overwhelming fire.
"Your uncle didn't send me here, Dominic," she said, using his first name for the very first time. "I wasn't a spy. I was just a woman trying to survive a corrupt system six years ago. But when I worked in that building, I didn't just file papers. I copied the ledger. The real ledger. The one that proves Victor Vale didn't just steal your father's empire—he murdered him."
May you like
The room went dead silent.
On the wall near the door, the red recording light of the security camera blinked steadily in the quiet air.
