Chapter 6 - The Trap is Set
Back at the Hale mansion, it was 3:16 p.m.
Jack Mercer was staring at Dominic, his hand slowly drifting toward the concealed sidearm beneath his armpit. The quiet realization that his leverage had vanished was settling over him like a suffocating blanket.
“What... what did you just say, boss?” Jack stammered, taking half a step backward toward the security room doorway.
Dominic didn't draw a gun. He simply stood there, six-foot-four of hardened muscle and lethal authority, looking at Jack like a predator watching an insect crawl across a table.
Dominic’s satellite phone vibrated in his pocket three times.
Code Green.
Dominic let out a long, heavy breath, the tension leaving his broad shoulders, replaced by an absolute, lethal clarity.
“I said, Claire never betrayed me,” Dominic repeated, stepping forward. “She planted that bug because she knew I’d find it. She knew I’d look at the security logs. She knew I’d figure out that the head of my security was holding her sister hostage in a grain silo at Pier 42.”
Jack’s eyes went wild with panic. He reached frantically beneath his suit coat for his weapon.
THUD.
Dominic closed the distance in a fraction of a second.
His massive hand clamped over Jack’s wrist like a steel vise, twisting the arm downward with sickening force. Jack screamed as his gun clattered onto the hardwood floor. Before Jack could strike back, Dominic grabbed him by the throat, lifting the grown man three inches off the ground and slamming him hard against the glass wall of the security console.
“You brought a rival syndicate into my house, Jack,” Dominic growled, his face inches from Jack’s pale, gasping face. “You threatened a helpless girl. You tried to ruin my wedding.”
“Dominic... please...” Jack choked out, his legs kicking uselessly beneath him. “The... the Vane Syndicate... they have my family... they forced me...”
“Save it,” Dominic cold-snapped, tightening his grip until Jack’s eyes rolled back. “You’re going to live for eleven more days, Jack. Because on the day of my wedding, you’re going to play your part exactly as planned.”
Dominic slammed Jack face-first onto the concrete floor, pulling a pair of heavy steel zip-ties from his vest and pulling Jack’s hands behind his back, binding them so tightly the plastic bit into the skin.
Ten minutes later, Paige Whitmore was brought through the secret underground entrance beneath the garage.
When the door to the East Guest Suite was unlocked, Claire stood up from the bed, expecting the worst. But instead of guards, Dominic walked inside, carrying Paige in his arms.
“Paige!” Claire shrieked, sprinting across the room and throwing her arms around her sister.
The two sisters collapsed onto the floor together, weeping hysterically, holding each other as if they would never let go. Dominic stood near the doorway, his hands in his pockets, watching them with a quiet, fierce warmth in his eyes.
After ten minutes of quiet tears and comforting whispers, Claire looked up at Dominic, her face red, her eyes shining with endless gratitude.
“She’s safe,” Claire sobbed, wiping her face. “You really saved her.”
“I promised you I would,” Dominic said softly, walking over and offering his hand to help Claire to her feet. He pulled her close against his chest, wrapping his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.
“Now,” Dominic murmured into her hair, “we have a wedding to plan.”
Claire pulled back slightly, frowning in confusion. “A wedding? Dominic... Jack’s backers are still coming! The Vane Syndicate thinks the gates are going to be opened in eight days!”
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Dominic smiled—a dark, lethal, beautiful smile that sent a shiver down Claire’s spine.
“That’s the best part, sweetheart,” Dominic whispered. “The Vane Syndicate thinks they’re coming to a massacre. But when they walk through those gates... they’re walking straight into a slaughterhouse.”
