Chapter 11 - THE FINAL SECRET
The silence in the penthouse was suffocating.
Dominic stared at the leather journal in Eleanor’s trembling hands.
For ten years, the official story was that Dominic’s father had died of a sudden, massive heart attack. It was the event that forced Dominic to take over the empire at twenty-five.
“My father died of natural causes, Eleanor,” Dominic said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
Eleanor shook her head. “No, he didn't. He was poisoned. The coroner was paid off.”
She stepped forward and handed the journal to Dominic.
“My husband was the accountant. He found the discrepancy. Millions of dollars funneled into a private shell company. When he brought it to the person responsible, they threatened to kill Madeline if my husband didn't take the fall and disappear. My husband committed suicide a week later to protect us.”
“Who?” Dominic demanded, his eyes blazing with a terrifying intensity. “Who took the money?”
“Read the final page,” Eleanor whispered.
Dominic opened the journal. He flipped to the back.
I watched his eyes scan the handwritten ledger. I watched the realization hit him like a physical blow.
He closed the book slowly.
“Richard,” Dominic breathed.
Richard. The family lawyer. The man who had stood by Dominic’s side for a decade. The man who had drafted Madeline’s fake contracts. The man who had convenient access to every single offshore account.
“Richard orchestrated everything,” Dominic said, his voice hollow. “He stole the money. He murdered my father. He probably fed Vincent the information to start the war, hoping we would kill each other so he could take over the legitimate businesses.”
“He’s a snake, Dominic,” Eleanor cried. “Madeline called me and said Richard is planning to flee the country tomorrow before her trial begins. He’s liquidating the firm’s assets.”
Dominic’s expression hardened into pure granite. The mafia boss had returned, summoned from the depths of his retirement by the murder of his father.
He walked to the safe hidden behind a painting and pulled out his pistol.
“Dominic, wait,” I said, grabbing his arm. “Call the FBI. Give them the journal. Let the law handle this.”
“The law didn't save my father,” Dominic said coldly. “Richard is a lawyer. He’ll tie this up in court for years. I’m ending this tonight.”
“Dominic, please! Think about Julian. Think about the life we’re building!”
He stopped. He looked at me, seeing the absolute terror in my eyes. He looked down the hall toward Julian’s bedroom.
He closed his eyes, fighting a massive internal war between vengeance and peace.
He took a deep breath.
He placed the gun on the kitchen island.
“You’re right,” he whispered, pulling me into a tight hug. “I’m not that man anymore.”
He pulled out his phone and dialed Marcus.
“Marcus. Call our contacts at the FBI. Tell them Richard is liquidating his assets to flee. I have hard evidence tying him to my father’s murder and the embezzlement.”
Dominic hung up the phone and looked at Eleanor.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “You saved my family.”
Three hours later, as the sun began to rise over Lake Michigan, the news broke on the television.
Richard had been arrested at O’Hare International Airport, trying to board a private jet to a non-extradition country.
The final ghost of the Moretti empire was locked away.
Dominic turned off the television. He walked over to the window, watching the golden sunlight spill across the water.
I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his strong back.
He turned around and pulled me into his arms.
“It’s really over now,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.
“No more secrets,” I smiled.
He pulled back slightly, looking down into my eyes with an expression of pure, unadulterated love.
“There is one more secret,” Dominic said softly.
May you like
He reached into his pocket.
And he pulled out a small, velvet box.
