Chapter 9 - Unmasking the Inner Circle
By 8:30 AM, the sun had fully broken through the morning fog, casting a sharp, clean light over the Ravensport waterfront.
Inside the basement holding room of the Vale estate—the same room where Dominic had once questioned informants and syndicate rivals—Marcus Sterling sat handcuffed to a heavy metal chair, his expensive navy suit ruined, his silver hair uncombed, staring blankly at the concrete floor.
The heavy steel door opened, and Dominic walked in, followed by Evelyn Price, who carried a thick stack of finalized legal transfer documents.
Marcus didn't look up as Dominic pulled out a chair and sat down opposite him.
“The papers are drawn up, Marcus,” Evelyn said, tossing the stack onto the metal table between them. “Silas Harrow signed over every asset of the North Point syndicate thirty minutes ago under my supervision. Your co-conspirator is currently on a private cargo flight to South America.”
Marcus let out a bitter, hollow laugh, shaking his head slowly. “You took everything from him just like that.”
“I took back what was mine,” Dominic corrected quietly.
“And what about me?” Marcus asked, finally looking up, his eyes bloodshot and desperate. “You’re going to hand me over to the feds? Or are you going to put a bullet in me right here in the basement?”
Dominic leaned back, resting his hands on the arms of his chair. He looked at the man who had managed his books, shared his boardrooms, and eaten at his table for eight years.
“No prison, Marcus,” Dominic said flatly.
Marcus frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “Then what?”
“You’re going to resign from Vale Maritime effective immediately due to ‘unforeseen health complications,’” Dominic said. “You are going to clear out your office by noon. Your bank accounts in the Caymans have already been frozen and transferred into the corporate philanthropic fund. You will leave Ravensport with the clothes on your back and a single suitcase.”
Marcus stared at him in disbelief. “You’re letting me walk away?”
“I’m letting you disappear,” Dominic corrected, his voice dropping into a chilling register. “Because if you ever show your face in Ravensport again—if you ever try to sell another route, another container, or another piece of classified data—I won't care about the law, and I won't care about our history.”
He stood up, buttoning his jacket.
May you like
“You’ll be wishing for a prison cell.”
Without waiting for an answer, Dominic turned and walked out of the holding room, leaving Marcus sitting alone in the silence of the basement.
