Chapter 8 - Reckoning in the Shadows
Dominic’s left hand shot across the table, grabbing Julian by his silk tie and slamming his face down onto the hard mahogany wood.
The crack of breaking bone echoed through the ballroom as Julian’s nose shattered against the polished table.
Julian screamed, dropping the small snub-nosed revolver he had pulled from his holster. Dominic snatched the gun from the wood, racked the slide with one hand, and pressed the cold muzzle directly against the back of Julian’s neck.
Nobody moved.
The board members stood frozen, their breath caught in their throats.
"Do you want to know how I found out, Julian?" Dominic whispered into his former friend's ear, his voice freezing the air in the room. "Not through federal wiretaps. Not through our corporate auditors. Not through the men I paid millions to watch my back."
Dominic looked over his shoulder at Emily, who stood beside Antonio’s wheelchair, her hands resting protectively over her child.
"A twenty-four-year-old girl," Dominic said. "Who was making twelve dollars an hour cleaning our floors. She saw what you were doing. And she risked everything to stop it."
Julian groaned against the wood, blood pooling around his designer collar. "Kill me, then. Do it. The Morettis... they'll tear this city apart."
"The Morettis won't do anything," Antonio’s raspy voice cut through the room.
The old man leaned forward in his wheelchair, his gaze sweeping over the terrified board members.
"Because at six o'clock this morning," Antonio said, his speech growing stronger with every breath, "Dominic gave the Brooklyn contracts to the federal maritime authorities. The ports are now under military jurisdiction. Moretti’s men were arrested forty minutes ago at the Red Hook gate."
Victoria let out a strangled, pathetic whimper.
She turned and bolted for the service entrance behind the banquet bar.
Emily saw her move. "Dominic! She’s running!"
Victoria kicked off her high heels and tore through the swinging doors into the commercial kitchen.
Dominic didn't even look up from Julian. "Marco. Take Vance to the basement. Don't break his fingers yet—I have questions about the Cyprus accounts."
He handed the revolver to Marco, turned on his heel, and strode toward the kitchen doors. "Emily, stay with my father."
"No!" Emily said, hurrying after him as fast as her pregnancy would allow. "Dominic, wait!"
She pushed through the swinging doors into the vast stainless-steel kitchen.
The room was empty of hotel staff—cleared out by Dominic’s security an hour ago. At the far end of the stainless-steel prep tables, near the industrial blast chillers, Victoria stood cornered.
Her hair had come loose from its elegant bun, hanging in wild strands around her face. In her trembling right hand, she held an eight-inch commercial boning knife snatched from a prep magnetic strip.
"Stay back!" Victoria screamed, pointing the blade at Dominic as he approached. "Stay back, you butcher!"
Dominic didn't slow his stride. His hands were out of his pockets, his posture relaxed, like an apex predator approaching a wounded rabbit.
"Put the knife down, Victoria," Dominic said calmly.
"You think you're better than me?" Victoria hissed, her voice cracking with pure venom. "You're a mobster, Dominic! You kill people for money! I just wanted what was mine! I was going to be your wife! I was going to run this city with you, and you treated me like a decorative vase while your father hoarded the empire!"
Her bloodshot eyes darted past Dominic’s shoulder, locking onto Emily.
"And you!" Victoria spat, venom dripping from every syllable. "You pathetic, gutter-born little rat! You ruined my life! You were supposed to be cleaning toilets, and now you're standing here playing the saint?"
"I didn't want to ruin your life, Victoria," Emily said, stepping out from behind Dominic, her hand resting firmly on her stomach. "I just wanted an old man to have a glass of water."
"Shut up!" Victoria lunged forward, blade raised.
Dominic didn't flinch.
He caught Victoria’s wrist mid-air with a grip that shattered her radial bone.
Victoria shrieked in agony as the knife clattered uselessly onto the tile floor. Dominic twisted her arm behind her back and shoved her against the stainless-steel refrigerator door, pinning her effortlessly with one forearm.
He leaned in close, his lips grazing the shell of her ear.
"You will never see a courtroom, Victoria," Dominic whispered. "The courts are too public. You will spend the rest of your life in a secured psychiatric facility in upstate New York—the very facility you tried to commit my father to. You will have three meals a day, delivered through a slot in a locked door. And every time you tap on that glass, nobody will answer."
Victoria’s eyes rolled back in terror as two of Dominic’s female security officers stepped forward with zip-ties.
They dragged her away, her hysterical screams echoing down the tiled hallway until the heavy doors swung shut.
The kitchen went dead quiet.
Emily let out a long, ragged breath, her knees trembling so violently she had to lean against the prep table for support.
Dominic turned to her.
He didn't look like a mob boss anymore. The adrenaline was fading from his gray eyes, leaving behind a profound, bone-deep exhaustion.
He walked over to her, his hand reaching out to steady her elbow. "Are you all right?"
"I think so," Emily whispered, looking down at the knife on the floor. "Is it over?"
Dominic looked at her—really looked at her.
At the gentle curve of her jaw, the warmth in her green eyes, and the brave, honest heart beating beneath her navy dress.
"For them," Dominic said softly. "It’s over."
Suddenly, Emily froze.
A sharp, violent pain tore through her abdomen—ten times stronger than the Braxton-Hicks cramps from the previous night.
She let out a sharp cry, clutching her stomach as a warm rush of liquid soaked through her dress and pooled around her shoes on the tile floor.
Dominic’s face drained of color. "Emily?"
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"Dominic..." Emily gasped, her vision blurring with white-hot pain as she sank toward the floor. "My water... it broke. The baby is coming."
***
