Chapter 2 - The Digital Execution
The silence in the dining room became oppressive. Brooke’s chest heaved rapidly, her eyes darting between Dominic and the imposing figure of Marcus holding the tech pad. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out—only a shallow, dry gasp.
"Play it, Marcus," Dominic repeated.
The crisp, high-definition audio echoed through the vaulted ceilings of the dining room. Every harsh word Brooke had hurled at Emma, every cruel demand to shatter the porcelain, and every calculated threat to throw Natalie and a nine-year-old boy onto the freezing gravel filled the space.
“Sign the agreement, Natalie... Then by breakfast tomorrow, you and your son can be off this property.”
Natalie stared at Brooke in horror. Noah buried his face in his mother’s shoulder, whimpering.
Dominic hadn't moved an inch. He stood completely still, his eyes fixed on Brooke’s face as the audio recording reached its climax and clicked off.
"You... you spied on me?" Brooke hissed, the polished mask finally shattering entirely, revealing the desperate, vicious social climber underneath. "You had bugs in your own house? To test me? After everything I’ve sacrificed to fit into this grotesque, suffocating family of yours?"
"It wasn't a bug, Brooke," Dominic said, stepping closer until towered over her. "It was a security audit. One you failed spectacularly."
"I am going to be your wife!" Brooke shrieked, losing all control, slamming her palms onto the mahogany table. "The invitations are sent! The Governor is attending! The wedding PR campaign is already running in The Boston Globe! You cannot humiliate me like this over a charity case and a bitter sister!"
"Watch me," Dominic replied.
He gestured to Marcus, who tossed the manila folder onto the table directly in front of Brooke. It slid across the polished wood and bumped against her coffee cup.
"What is that?" Brooke whispered, her voice trembling.
"That is an annulment of the engagement contract, a freezing of the joint accounts you illegally transferred $450,000 into over the last forty-eight hours, and a formal indictment for attempted extortion and elder-trust forgery," Dominic stated calmly. "My mother’s trust documents have your signature on an unauthorized amendment dated three days ago. My legal team woke up a federal judge an hour ago. You have forty-five minutes to pack your designer bags, Brooke. If you take one step outside this estate with a single piece of jewelry or asset belonging to the Mercer family, Marcus won't just deport you back to your sketchy hedge-fund family in London—he will ensure you spend the next ten years in a maximum-security federal penitentiary."
Brooke stared at the folder, her breath catching in her throat. She looked around the room, realizing every servant, every guard, and every family member was watching her with undisguised contempt. Realizing she had lost completely, her expression morphed from panic into pure, venomous hatred.
"You think you’ve won, Dominic?" she laughed hysterically, grabbing her designer coat from the back of the chair. "You think cutting me off saves you? My brother and the syndicate backing him didn't invest in me because they liked my face. They wanted entry into the Newport port terminals. By tonight, your little empire won't just be embarrassed—it’ll be burning to the ground."
She turned on her heel, her Louboutins clicking furiously against the floor as she stormed out of the dining room.
May you like
Dominic didn't flinch at her parting threat. He simply turned to Natalie and Noah, his harsh expression instantly softening into something gentle and protective.
"Pack light, everyone," Dominic said quietly. "We're moving to the east cottage starting tonight. It's time we reclaimed what belongs to this family."
