Chapter 4 - The Night Dominic Surrendered His Empire
Dominic reached the clinic floor before Carlo’s vehicle left the underground garage.
Gemma later told me that Carlo’s fake nurse injected her with a sedative, placed her in a wheelchair, and covered her face with an oxygen mask. Anyone watching would have assumed she was being transferred for tests.
Carlo relied on people seeing uniforms instead of faces.
This time, I noticed.
The nurse’s shoes were polished men’s dress shoes, not medical footwear. I shouted before he reached the elevator.
He shoved Gemma forward and ran.
Dominic’s guards pursued him into the stairwell, but an explosion inside the archive forced everyone back. Fire alarms sealed several corridors.
Carlo reached the roof.
A helicopter waited there.
He had never planned to take Gemma.
She had been a distraction.
His real target was Dominic.
A message appeared across every monitor.
ROOF. ALONE. OR THE ARCHIVE FIRE REACHES THE OXYGEN STORAGE.
The threat was partly false. The oxygen system was protected behind fire-resistant walls.
Partly false threats still killed people when panic did the rest.
Dominic prepared to go upstairs.
I stepped between him and the elevator.
“No.”
“He wants me.”
“He wants you isolated.”
“The fire department needs time.”
“And if he shoots you?”
“He may.”
His calmness made me furious.
“You don’t get to behave as though your life belongs only to you.”
The words surprised both of us.
Dominic’s face changed.
“Lila—”
“Gemma needs you. Your mother needs you. Hundreds of employees need you to finish what you started.”
“And you?”
I could have hidden.
Instead, I told the truth.
“I need you to come back.”
For the first time, the man who made judges lower their voices looked shaken.
He touched my cheek only after I nodded.
“I will try.”
“That is not a promise.”
“It is the most honest thing I can give you.”
Dominic entered the rooftop alone.
Federal agents watched through a maintenance camera while firefighters contained the archive blaze.
Carlo stood beside the helicopter holding a weapon.
Chicago spread behind him in cold lights.
“You handed the family to the government,” Carlo said.
“I handed them evidence.”
“Your father would be ashamed.”
“My father was preparing to expose you when you killed him.”
Carlo smiled.
“Anthony was sentimental. He believed poor families mattered more than the power protecting our own.”
“They were receiving counterfeit medicine.”
“They received what their hospitals could afford.”
The statement traveled through Dominic’s hidden microphone to every agent listening below.
Carlo did not know.
“You killed Catherine Bennett,” Dominic said.
“She stole from us.”
“She copied evidence.”
“She condemned herself.”
My hands clenched around the monitor.
Carlo had confessed to murdering my mother as though discussing a damaged shipment.
Dominic remained still.
“And Gemma?”
“She should have remembered which family gave her everything.”
“Our family gave her guards, rules, and enemies.”
“We gave her a name.”
“A name built on fear is not a gift.”
Carlo raised the weapon.
“You sound like the pharmacist.”
Dominic’s expression sharpened.
“Leave her out of this.”
“There it is.”
Carlo smiled wider.
“The weakness.”
“No.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“The reason.”
The helicopter pilot started the engine. Rotor blades began turning above them.
Carlo demanded access codes to the remaining Russo accounts and international warehouses.
Dominic had already transferred operational control to an independent board. He possessed no authority to give.
When Carlo learned that, fury replaced confidence.
“You destroyed billions.”
“I removed them from men who thought money erased consequences.”
“You destroyed your inheritance.”
“I ended it.”
Carlo fired.
Dominic turned, and the bullet struck below his shoulder.
I screamed.
He fell to one knee.
Federal agents moved toward the rooftop doors, but Carlo grabbed him and held the weapon against his neck.
“Everyone back!”
The agents stopped.
I did not.
I entered the service elevator with Lena Brooks despite her order to remain below.
When the rooftop door opened, rain blew across my face.
Carlo looked toward me.
“You.”
Dominic’s eyes filled with terror.
“Lila, go back.”
Carlo laughed.
“She came for you.”
“I came for the truth,” I said.
“You already heard it.”
“No. I heard a frightened old man blame dead people for refusing to obey him.”
His expression darkened.
“You know nothing about power.”
“I know counterfeit epinephrine almost killed a child because you wanted another account filled with money.”
“People die every day.”
“Then why are you so afraid of being one of them?”
His weapon shifted toward me.
Dominic moved.
He struck Carlo’s wrist, forcing the gun upward. The shot disappeared into the rain.
Federal agents rushed forward.
Carlo fought until three officers forced him down.
Dominic collapsed.
I reached him as blood spread across his black shirt.
“Stay with me.”
His face had become pale.
“I said I would try.”
“Try harder.”
A weak laugh left him.
Paramedics carried him downstairs.
The bullet had passed through muscle without striking his lung, but he had lost significant blood.
I sat outside surgery beside Gemma.
She rested her head on my shoulder.
“You told him you needed him,” she said.
“Do not make this romantic.”
“It was extremely romantic.”
“He was shot.”
“He gets dramatic around women.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
Four hours later, the surgeon announced Dominic would recover.
When he woke, I was beside him.
His first question was about Gemma.
His second was about me.
Then he asked about Carlo.
“In federal custody,” I said. “Your confession recording is everywhere.”
“My confession?”
“His. You mostly sounded morally exhausted.”
He closed his eyes.
“The accounts?”
“Frozen.”
“The companies?”
“Independent management has temporary control.”
“I have nothing left.”
The old fear moved inside me—the belief that powerful men became dangerous when they lost control.
Dominic opened his eyes.
“I’m relieved.”
That answer quieted it.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“I testify. I accept charges for everything I did and everything I concealed.”
“You could go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“You say that too calmly.”
“I have spent years expecting someone else to pay for my choices.”
He looked at our joined hands.
“I don’t want that life anymore.”
“And us?”
He was silent for several seconds.
“There cannot be an us if you feel indebted because I was shot.”
“I don’t.”
“Or because I helped find the truth about your mother.”
“I don’t.”
“Or because Gemma wants it.”
“She absolutely does.”
A faint smile appeared.
“What do you want, Lila?”
My heart pounded.
I leaned closer, then stopped.
“May I kiss you?”
The most feared man in Chicago looked at me as if I had offered him something no empire could purchase.
May you like
“Yes.”
My first kiss was gentle, uncertain, and entirely mine.
