Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT JULIAN DIEDDominic entered the abandoned hotel alone.
At least, Celeste believed he did.
Marcus remained six blocks away monitoring a tracker hidden inside Dominic’s belt buckle.
Dominic carried no visible weapon.
The ballroom where Julian died had once hosted weddings.
Now rain leaked through the ceiling.
Broken chandeliers hung like dead branches.
Isabella sat in a chair beneath one of them.
Dominic saw her.
Everything inside him stopped.
She was seventy now.
Smaller than he remembered.
Gray-haired.
Thin.
But her eyes were the same.
“Dominic.”
He crossed the room.
Celeste stepped from the shadows holding a gun.
“Stop.”
Dominic stopped.
Isabella cried silently.
“My baby.”
Dominic looked at Celeste.
“You wanted me here. I’m here.”
“Yes.”
“Let her go.”
“Eventually.”
Celeste wore a black coat and pearl earrings.
She looked almost exactly as she had in family photographs.
Calm.
Elegant.
As if kidnapping and murder were administrative tasks.
“Why Julian?”
Celeste tilted her head.
“Because he noticed things.”
“Things you missed,” Isabella said.
Dominic looked at his mother.
She continued.
“Julian found me.”
Dominic froze.
“What?”
“Eight years ago.”
Before his death.
“He traced one of my bank withdrawals.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“He came to Vermont.”
Dominic struggled to breathe.
“What did he say?”
“That you needed me.”
Dominic looked away.
Isabella continued.
“He wanted to bring me home.”
Celeste smiled faintly.
“And that became inconvenient.”
Dominic’s voice lowered.
“You killed him.”
“I arranged the circumstances.”
“You killed him.”
“Yes.”
There was no remorse.
Dominic stepped forward.
Celeste aimed at Isabella.
He stopped.
“Julian refused to cooperate,” Celeste said. “He was supposed to take the money, disappear, and allow you to believe he betrayed you.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“No.”
For the first time, Celeste sounded almost respectful.
“He loved you far more than was practical.”
Dominic closed his eyes briefly.
His brother’s message returned.
Dom, please. You know me better.
He had failed him.
Celeste continued.
“Julian threatened to expose Vincent, Richard, Graham, everyone.”
“So you gave his location to our enemies.”
“Yes.”
Isabella sobbed.
Celeste looked bored by grief.
Dominic said, “And my father?”
“Your father became unstable.”
“Meaning?”
“He developed guilt.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“You arranged his ambush too.”
“I redirected information.”
“How many people have you killed?”
Celeste laughed softly.
“That is such a moral question for a man like you.”
Dominic said nothing.
Because she was right about one thing.
His hands were not clean.
He had built power through violence.
Threats.
Fear.
He had justified it as family survival.
Celeste had used the same justification.
The difference was not as large as Dominic wanted it to be.
Perhaps that was why seeing her clearly frightened him.
“You did all this for money?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
“Control.”
Simple.
Honest.
Terrifying.
Celeste looked around the ruined ballroom.
“Men like your father built empires and assumed women standing behind them were decoration.”
Isabella stared at her.
“You destroyed children.”
Celeste’s eyes shifted.
“And men destroyed cities. Spare me the gendered morality.”
Dominic interrupted.
“You’re done.”
Celeste smiled.
“No.”
A door opened.
Two armed men entered.
Then another.
Dominic had expected them.
“What do you want?”
“The drive Richard gave you.”
“It isn’t here.”
“I know.”
Celeste smiled.
“I want access to the system.”
“Why?”
“Because you found the Connecticut house. The network will be useless unless I relocate it.”
“You think I’ll help?”
“I think you’ll do anything for her.”
She pressed the gun against Isabella’s temple.
Dominic looked at his mother.
Isabella shook her head.
“No.”
“Mom.”
“No, Dominic.”
Her voice strengthened.
“I lost twenty-one years because people in this family kept choosing fear.”
Celeste pressed harder.
“Quiet.”
Isabella looked directly at Dominic.
“Don’t choose fear again.”
Dominic’s eyes changed.
Celeste noticed.
So did her men.
Dominic smiled slightly.
“What?”
Celeste frowned.
Dominic looked toward the cracked ballroom windows.
“You made one mistake.”
“I rarely do.”
“You taught me betrayal makes people predictable.”
He raised his eyes.
“But guilt changes people.”
Celeste looked confused.
Then one of her armed men turned his gun.
He shot the other guard.
Chaos exploded.
Dominic dove.
Isabella fell sideways.
Celeste fired.
The chandelier shattered.
Dominic reached his mother and dragged her behind a pillar.
The traitorous guard—actually one of Richard’s former security contacts recruited by Marcus—opened the side door.
Marcus’s team rushed in.
Gunfire echoed.
Celeste disappeared through the kitchen corridor.
Dominic wanted to chase her.
But Isabella clutched his hand.
“Don’t leave me.”
Everything stopped.
For most of his life, Dominic would have chased the enemy.
Revenge first.
Always.
This time he stayed.
He knelt beside his mother.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Marcus pursued Celeste.
She escaped through a service tunnel leading toward the river.
But they found something in her abandoned vehicle.
Vincent’s phone.
And blood.
At sunrise police discovered Vincent alive in Celeste’s safe house.
Barely.
The bullet had missed his heart.
For once, survival served justice better than death.
Vincent talked.
He confessed to the attack on Isabella’s car.
The conspiracy against Julian.
Richard’s blackmail.
Financial crimes.
He gave investigators accounts, names, dates.
Everything.
But Celeste remained missing.
Dominic brought Isabella home.
When the gates of Vale Manor appeared, she began shaking.
“I never thought I’d see it again.”
Dominic squeezed her hand.
Inside, Evelyn waited with Harper.
Harper stared at Isabella.
“Are you Mr. Dominic’s mommy?”
Isabella smiled through tears.
“I am.”
Harper looked at Dominic seriously.
“You found your mommy too.”
Dominic’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
Harper considered that.
“Good.”
Then she returned to coloring.
Adults laughed.
The first genuine laughter Vale Manor had heard in days.
But that night Marcus entered Dominic’s office.
“We found Celeste’s final account.”
“And?”
“She transferred twenty million dollars yesterday.”
“Where?”
“An offshore company.”
Dominic stood.
“Name?”
Marcus slid the document across the desk.
Dominic read it.
His blood ran cold.
May you like
The company was registered to:
HARPER E. CARTER TRUST.
