Chapter 11: The Quiet Alliance
I waited until the faint echo of Julianne’s footsteps faded away down the grand staircase before letting out the breath I felt like I’d been holding for a century. My hands were slick with cold sweat as I pulled the leather register from my pocket and tucked it securely beneath my apron. I needed to get this to Dominic, and I needed to do it before sunrise, before Julianne realized something was missing from the desk.
I hurried down the dimly lit corridor toward the private west wing where Dominic’s quarters were located. The heavy oak door to his study was ajar, a sliver of warm light spilling across the polished marble floor. I didn't bother knocking; I slipped inside quietly, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
Dominic was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, reviewing a series of financial spreadsheets on a sleek tablet. He looked up immediately as I entered, his sharp grey eyes taking in my pale, jittery appearance. He stood up without a word, crossing the room in three long strides.
“She almost caught me,” I breathed out, pulling the leather register from my apron and handing it to him. “She was in the library. She knows someone is looking, Dominic.”
Dominic took the book, his fingers brushing against mine. For a second, the cold, untouchable mafia boss vanished, replaced by a man who looked bone-weary and fiercely protective. He flipped open the register to a marked page filled with neat, handwritten entries dating back three years.
“She’s getting desperate,” Dominic said quietly, his jaw tightening as he scanned the names and figures. “Her father’s bank accounts are starting to freeze due to government audits. She’s trying to liquidate assets tied to the estate. If she succeeds, she walks away clean with millions that rightfully belong to the foundation.”
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“And the girls?” I asked, my voice hardening. “What about Sarah?”
“They’re accounted for in these pages,” Dominic said, tapping the leather cover with a heavy index finger. “Every payoff, every forced NDA, every quiet relocation managed by Julianne’s personal lawyer. With this book, and the offshore transfer records I pulled from Cyprus yesterday, she has nowhere left to run.” He looked up at me, his gaze softening. “Tomorrow night, there’s a private board meeting with the estate trustees. That’s when we end this.”
