Chapter 10 - The Trap Springs
The applause washed over Sophia like a wave of warm light.
For the first time in four years, the phantom weight of Liam’s hands evaporated from her throat. She looked at Dominic, whose eyes held a warmth so intense it made the diamonds around her neck feel cold.
“You did beautifully,” Dominic murmured against her ear as well-wishers and city officials began lining up to offer their congratulations.
“I’m ready for the rest of it,” Sophia replied quietly, keeping her smile fixed for the cameras. “Where is he?”
“He just left the main floor,” Dominic said, his eyes tracking Julian Cross’s retreat toward the private corridor leading to the Gold Room. “Caleb has the hallway secured. Liam is already inside.”
Sophia’s breath caught. “Liam is there?”
“He has his role to play,” Dominic said, signaling to Eleanor with a nod. The matriarch smoothly glided over to take Sophia’s arm, stepping into Dominic’s place with effortless social poise.
“Smile for the Tribune photographers, child,” Eleanor commanded under her breath, though her grip on Sophia’s elbow was surprisingly protective. “Let the wolves see your teeth.”
Dominic slipped through the side archway, blending into the shadows of the service hallway.
Inside the Gold Room—a private library paneled in dark walnut—Julian Cross slammed the double doors shut.
Sitting on a leather Chesterfield sofa, shaking, wearing a cheap suit with a swollen face, was Liam Prescott.
“Where is she?” Julian snarled, striding across the Persian rug and grabbing Liam by his lapels. “You told me she was bringing the ledgers here! She just walked down the main staircase looking like the queen of England! What game are you playing, Prescott?”
“I… I didn’t have a choice, Julian,” Liam sobbed, trembling violently.
“Choice?” Julian sneered, pulling a silenced pistol from his jacket. “I bought your life from the mob in Seattle! I fed you, I gave you Sophia’s address, I paid your bail! You work for me!”
“Actually, Julian,” a calm, deep voice spoke from the corner shadows. “He works for me now.”
Julian spun around, raising the weapon.
*Crack.*
A single shot shattered the marble mantlepiece beside Julian’s head. Caleb stepped out from behind the velvet curtains, smoke curling from his suppressed weapon, covering Julian with lethal precision.
Dominic walked out of the gloom, stepping into the warm pool of lamplight.
“Put the gun on the desk, Julian,” Dominic said evenly. “Before Caleb takes your hand off at the wrist.”
Julian’s chest heaved. He looked at Dominic, then at Liam, realizing with horrifying finality that the mouse had led the cat straight into a steel cage.
Slowly, Julian laid the pistol on the mahogany desk and backed away, his hands raised to shoulder height.
“You think you’ve won, Vale?” Julian spat, attempting to recover his sneer. “You think marrying a broken woman and putting a bastard in her belly makes you king? The federal grand jury unseals three indictments against your shipping lines on Monday morning. I personally delivered the witness testimonies to the U.S. Attorney.”
Dominic didn't blink. He reached into his tuxedo breast pocket and pulled out a digital recording device, laying it beside Julian’s gun.
“You mean the witness testimonies provided by Liam Prescott?” Dominic asked.
Julian froze.
“Liam confessed everything two hours ago, Julian,” Dominic explained, his voice chillingly pleasant. “On federal record. How you hired him to stalk Sophia. How you funded his transit across state lines to commit aggravated assault and attempted kidnapping. And how you wired two million dollars through offshore accounts to bribe Assistant U.S. Attorney Miller.”
Julian’s skin turned the color of ash. “You’re bluffing.”
The door behind Dominic opened.
Two agents in dark suits with federal badges hanging around their necks stepped into the Gold Room, followed by the Cook County State’s Attorney.
“Julian Cross,” the lead agent announced, producing a pair of steel cuffs. “You are under arrest for conspiracy, interstate stalking, extortion, and bribery of a federal official.”
Julian lunged forward in a blind, animal rage. “Vale! You set me up! You set me up, you bastard!”
Caleb stepped in with a brutal, short strike to Julian’s diaphragm, folding him in half before the federal marshals pinned him to the floor, the metallic snap of handcuffs echoing off the walnut walls.
As they dragged Julian out through the private service exit, Dominic looked down at Liam, who remained huddled on the sofa, crying like a child.
“What about me?” Liam whimpered, looking up with pathetic, pleading eyes. “Dominic… please. I did what you said. I wore the wire. I gave you Cross.”
Dominic looked at the man who had haunted Sophia’s nightmares for three years. He felt no anger. Only an absolute, cleansing disgust.
“You have one hour to board a cargo freighter bound for Singapore, Liam,” Dominic said coldly. “You will work on the docks. If you ever set foot on North American soil again, my men won't bother with the police. Do you understand me?”
Liam scrambled off the couch, dropping to his knees, kissing Dominic’s polished shoes in frantic gratitude. “Yes! Yes, thank you! I’m gone! I’m dead! You’ll never see me again!”
May you like
Dominic stepped back, disgusted by the contact. “Get him out of my sight, Caleb.”
***