Chapter 4 - the storm at the gate
The rain poured down in heavy, blinding sheets as Dominic walked down the grand stone steps of the estate's front entrance. Wrapped in a long black wool overcoat over his dark suit, he moved with the steady, unstoppable authority of a man who owned the land beneath his boots.
Flanking him were six heavily armed Moretti enforcers, their dark coats snapping in the cold wind.
Standing outside the heavy wrought-iron security gate was a black armored Cadillac. Leaning against the hood, holding a large black umbrella, was Richard Vance. At fifty-two, Vance was a sleek, calculating criminal with slicked-back gray hair, a dark trench coat, and an arrogant, sharp jawline.
As Dominic approached the gate, Vance offered a cold, theatrical smile.
"Dominic," Vance called out over the sound of the falling rain. "It’s been five years. You haven't changed a bit."
Dominic stopped two feet from the iron bars, his broad hands resting calmly in his coat pockets, his dark eyes deadpan and unyielding.
"You're standing on my land, Vance," Dominic said, his voice carrying an icy weight that cut through the thunder. "State your business before I have my men put a bullet through your engine block."
Vance’s smile faltered slightly, though he maintained his relaxed posture. "I came to collect what belongs to me, Dominic. I believe you have one of my former employees locked in your third-floor holding room... and a housekeeper named Anna Carter living in your servant quarters."
Dominic didn't flinch. "Evelyn Crane is facing family justice for grand theft. And Anna Carter is an employee of the Moretti estate. Neither of them belongs to you."
Vance took a step closer to the iron bars, his eyes narrowing into twin points of malice. "Anna's late husband owed my organization five hundred thousand dollars, Dominic. Under syndicate law, that debt transfers to his estate... and his daughter."
Dominic took one slow, massive step forward, pressing his broad chest against the iron gate. His presence was so terrifyingly immense that Vance instinctively backed away half a pace.
"Touch one hair on Anna or Lily Carter," Dominic growled, his deep voice dropping into a hollow, lethal register that made the blood run cold in Vance's veins, "and I will personally tear down every warehouse, every dock, and every home you own in this state."
Vance swallowed hard, his arrogant composure finally cracking. "You're protecting a maid and a crippled child over syndicate business, Moretti?"
"They are under my roof, Vance," Dominic growled. "That makes them my business. Now get off my property before I open this gate."
Vance stared at Dominic for three long, agonizing seconds before spinning on his heel, climbing into the rear seat of his armored Cadillac, and speeding away into the dark, rain-soaked night.
May you like
Dominic turned back toward the mansion, his jaw set like iron. He looked up at the second-floor study window, seeing Anna standing near the glass, holding little Lily in her arms.
Dominic looked at his head of security, Marcus. "Call our legal team and private medical specialists. I want a complete audit of Anna’s father's old company records by morning."
