Chapter 6 - The Cleansing Fire
The storm that rolled over Chicago that evening made the previous Tuesday look like a light drizzle.
Lightning fractured the sky over Lake Michigan, casting strobing flashes of violet light across the fortified walls of the Highland Park estate. Inside the study, the digital monitors flickered as federal agents executed search warrants simultaneously at Judge Harrison Vance’s suburban residence and his downtown judicial chambers.
Dante Russo dropped a thick manila folder onto Dominic’s desk.
“It’s done, Boss,” Dante reported, wiping rain from his leather jacket. “Vance’s bank records show direct wire transfers from the pharmaceutical shell company that manufactured the neuro-suppressant. Federal marshals picked him up at his chambers an hour ago. He didn't even reach for his phone.”
“And Elena?”
“Attempted to board a private flight to Zurich out of O’Hare. Federal agents pulled her off the tarmac before the wheels left the ground. She’s currently sitting in a holding cell downtown, screaming about her constitutional rights and demanding her father’s lawyers.”
Dominic closed the folder. The weight that had crushed his chest for fourteen months—the phantom grief, the lingering guilt, the poisoned air of a house built on blood and lies—finally lifted.
“Good,” Dominic said.
He stood up, walked out of the study, and made his way down the long, silent corridor toward the east wing.
The heavy oak door to Eli’s room was unlocked.
Inside, the soft constellations of the star projector drifted across the blue walls. Maeve was sitting in the armchair beside the custom medical bed, reading an old adventure book aloud while Eli lay quietly beneath the pale blue blankets.
Dominic paused in the doorway.
Maeve looked up, seeing him standing in the shadows of the hall. She closed the book gently, marked the page with a white linen handkerchief, and stood up.
“How is he?” Dominic asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“His vitals are stabilizing,” Maeve said, walking toward the door. “The chelating agent we administered yesterday has already cleared the residual toxins from his bloodstream. It will take time for his nervous system to fully recover from months of suppression, but the fog is lifting, Mr. Kane. He’s waking up.”
She brushed past him into the hallway, preparing to give them privacy.
“Maeve,” Dominic called out softly.
She stopped, looking back over her shoulder.
“Don't pack your bags,” Dominic said. “You’re not a nurse anymore. And you’re certainly not a maid.”
May you like
A faint, genuine smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Then what am I, Mr. Kane?”
“Family,” Dominic said.
