Chapter 2 - The Arrogance of the Untouchable
Dominic Ward sat in the back of his Bentley,
the leather smelling of expensive cologne and the lingering scent of Clara’s perfume.
He tapped his fingers against his knee,
a rhythmic,
annoyed beat that mirrored the rain hitting the roof.
He wasn't worried,
not really.
Victoria Sterling was a formidable woman in a courtroom,
yes,
but this wasn't a courtroom.
This was the real world,
where money talked and judges were just bureaucrats with fancy titles.
He had Clara’s life in the palm of his hand,
and by extension,
he had Victoria’s.
Or so he thought.
"Sir,
the men are in position,"
the driver said,
his eyes meeting Dominic’s in the rearview mirror.
"Good,"
Dominic replied,
his voice smooth and devoid of any remorse.
"Tell them to be gentle with Clara.
She’s carrying the heir to the Ward fortune,
after all.
But the mother...
she needs to understand that her interference has a price."
He looked out the window at the passing trees,
dark shadows against a darker sky.
He had spent years building this kingdom,
brick by bloody brick.
He had started with a small shipping company and turned it into a logistical empire that moved more than just consumer goods.
He had the docks,
he had the warehouses,
and he had the men who kept the gears turning.
He had married Clara not just for her beauty,
but for her pedigree.
The daughter of a federal judge was the ultimate shield,
a way to insulate himself from the prying eyes of the Department of Justice.
It was a brilliant plan,
until Clara started asking questions.
Until she found the ledger he had hidden in the nursery.
Until she realized that the man she loved was a monster disguised in a bespoke suit.
Dominic sighed,
a sound of genuine disappointment.
He had truly liked her,
in his own way.
She was elegant,
intelligent,
and she looked perfect on his arm at the charity balls.
But she had become a liability,
and liabilities had to be managed.
He checked his watch.
Twelve-forty-five.
By one in the morning,
Clara would be back in her bedroom,
under heavy sedation,
and Victoria would be signing a non-disclosure agreement in exchange for her daughter’s "health."
He reached for his phone and called Chief Miller.
"Is the perimeter secure?"
"Yes,
Dominic,"
Miller’s voice came through,
shaky and thin.
"But I’m telling you,
this is a bad idea.
Sterling isn't like the others.
She has friends in high places,
people we can't reach."
Dominic laughed,
a cold,
dry sound.
"Everyone has a price,
Miller.
You of all people should know that.
Just make sure no one interferes with my men.
If a patrol car accidentally wanders onto that road,
make sure the officer loses his way."
"I’ll do my best,"
Miller said,
though he sounded unconvinced.
"Your best is what I pay for,"
Dominic snapped,
hanging up.
He leaned back and closed his eyes,
imagining the look on Victoria’s face when his men walked through her front door.
He imagined her fear,
her realization that her titles and her laws meant nothing in the face of raw power.
He felt a surge of adrenaline,
the same rush he felt when he closed a multi-million dollar deal or silenced a rival.
He was the king of this city,
and kings didn't bow to judges.
He didn't see the black SUVs moving silently through the woods behind him.
He didn't see the tactical teams in matte-black gear,
their faces obscured by masks,
their weapons held in low-ready positions.
He didn't know that the airwaves were being flooded with federal frequencies,
scrambling his men's communications.
He was in a bubble of his own making,
a bubble of ego and gold,
and it was about to burst.
The Bentley slowed as it approached the entrance to Victoria’s estate.
Dominic opened his eyes and straightened his tie.
"Let’s go,"
he said to the driver.
"It’s time to bring my wife home."
As the car rolled forward,
he felt a strange vibration in his pocket.
His phone was buzzing again,
but this time,
it wasn't a text.
It was an alert from his security system at the main office.
A breach.
A total system lockdown.
He frowned,
staring at the screen.
Then,
his tablet lit up with a video feed from his primary warehouse.
The doors were being smashed in by armored vehicles.
Men with "FBI" emblazoned on their backs were swarming the floor.
Dominic’s heart skipped a beat,
a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
"Turn around,"
he hissed to the driver.
"Now!"
But the driver didn't move.
He didn't even look back.
The driver simply turned off the engine and put his hands on the dashboard.
"I can't do that,
Mr. Ward,"
the driver said quietly.
Dominic reached for the door handle,
but it was locked.
He looked out the window and saw the red and blue lights flashing in the trees,
reflecting off the rain-soaked leaves.
May you like
He wasn't at Victoria's gate.
He was in a trap.
