Chapter 3 - The Secret Ledger
The master suite on the second floor of the Hudson Valley estate was a sanctuary of dark mahogany, plush velvet, and roaring hearths. Yet, as Dr. Alvarez—the estate’s private physician—tended to Mia in the adjoining medical room, the atmosphere in the main bedroom felt like a war room preparing for a siege.
Dominic stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the gray dawn slowly break over the frozen expanse of the Hudson River. Two encrypted satellite phones rested on the antique writing desk beside him, flashing with encrypted data streams from his network captains across New York and New Jersey.
The door swung open silently, and Daniel stepped into the room, holding a heavy, leather-bound black ledger.
"Boss," Daniel said quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the medical room next door. "We searched Nathan’s private quarters on the third floor. We found this hidden inside the false bottom of his walk-in gun safe, along with two passports under alias names and a burner phone."
Dominic turned away from the window. He walked over to the desk, took the ledger, and flipped it open.
The pages were filled with meticulous, handwritten notes—not financial records of the Vale syndicate's legal businesses, but something far more intimate and devastating. There were architectural blueprints of the mansion, security grid access codes, notes on Claire’s personal schedule, and detailed surveillance logs tracking Dominic’s movements over the past three years.
Even more damning were the financial entries on the back pages.
Large, recurring wire transfers routed from an offshore shell corporation—Vanguard Holdings—directly into a private Swiss bank account registered under Nathan Cross’s name.
"Vanguard Holdings," Dominic muttered, recognizing the corporate veil immediately. It was a front company managed by the Moretti syndicate—their primary rival in the tri-state area.
"Nathan wasn't just skimming from the family business," Daniel said grimly, leaning against the edge of the mahogany desk. "He’s been selling our real estate acquisitions, our shipping routes, and our security vulnerabilities to the Morettis for over two years. And based on these notes, Claire was working directly with him."
Dominic’s jaw tightened so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek.
Claire Bennett. The woman he was supposed to marry in six weeks. The woman who had spent months orchestrating a lavish high-society wedding to cement the union between the Vale estate and her family’s old-money political connections.
It wasn't a marriage of love. It was a hostile takeover.
By marrying Claire, Nathan and the Moretti syndicate would have gained legal co-ownership of the Vale trust, granting them unfettered access to Dominic’s multi-million-dollar real estate portfolio without firing a single shot. Mia Carter had stumbled onto the truth—perhaps seeing documents she shouldn't have while cleaning the study—and Claire and Nathan had decided to bury her alive in the wine cellar to keep the wedding on track.
"Where is Claire right now?" Dominic asked, his voice frighteningly calm.
"She’s still in her private guest suite on the east wing," Daniel replied. "She slept through the entire commotion. She thinks everything is going according to plan."
May you like
Dominic closed the ledger with a heavy thud that rattled the porcelain teacups on the desk.
"Wake her up," Dominic commanded, walking toward his closet to retrieve his holster and his custom-engraved Sig Sauer pistol. "Tell her we need to discuss the wedding arrangements in the study. Immediately."
