Chapter 14 - The Final Execution of the Beast Named Caldwell
Dominic closed the distance with terrifying, inhuman speed.
Before Caldwell could press the red button, Dominic’s left hand shot out like an iron vice, grabbing Caldwell’s wrist and wrenching it upward with a sickening SNAP.
Caldwell shrieked in agony as the bones in his wrist shattered. The detonator slipped from his limp fingers.
Elena lunged forward, sliding across the polished floor, and kicked the falling detonator cleanly across the room, out the shattered window, and into the three-foot snowdrifts below where it landed harmlessly.
Dominic didn't let go.
He drove a devastating right hook into Caldwell’s jaw, knocking three teeth from the man's mouth. Caldwell crashed backward into the heavy mahogany desk, gasping for air, spitting blood onto the rug.
Dominic calmly unclipped the combat knife from his tactical vest, stepped up to the battered mob boss, and sliced through the straps of the explosive vest, kicking the dangerous C4 away into the corner.
Caldwell lay on the floor, broken, bleeding, and utterly defeated. He looked up at Dominic, the realization of his complete ruin finally sinking through his madness.
"Please..." Caldwell choked out, coughing crimson onto his ruined silk shirt. "Ashford... please. I have offshore holdings in Panama... real estate in Dubai that wasn't on the drive... I'll give it all to you. Just let me leave the country."
Dominic looked down at him with utter disgust.
"You asked for mercy?" Dominic asked, his voice low and freezing. "Did you show mercy when you chained a defenseless woman to a concrete pillar and beat her for three days straight?"
Dominic stepped back and looked at Elena.
He extended his pistol toward her, grip first.
"Elena," Dominic said softly. "The choice is yours."
Elena walked forward. She looked at the heavy weapon in Dominic’s hand, then looked down at Vincent Caldwell—the man who had murdered her peace, destroyed her career, and tried to extinguish her soul.
Caldwell looked up at her with wide, terrified eyes, trembling just as she had trembled on that cold concrete floor.
"Elena... please," Caldwell wept. "We were partners..."
Elena didn't take the gun.
She looked Dominic in the eyes, her expression pure, regal, and untainted by the darkness Caldwell had tried to force upon her.
"I won't let him turn me into a monster like him," Elena said, her voice clear and beautiful amidst the ruined room. "I took his money. I took his power. I took his freedom. Death is too easy an escape for Vincent Caldwell."
She looked down at the broken man on the floor.
"Let the federal agents drag you through the mud, Vincent. Let every judge you bribed watch you rot in a supermax federal penitentiary for the rest of your miserable life, penniless, forgotten, and powerless."
Dominic smiled—a look of profound, boundless respect and adoration for the woman standing before him.
"As my Queen commands," Dominic murmured.
Dominic raised his foot and delivered a single, crushing kick to Caldwell’s temple, knocking the former mob boss into instant, deep unconsciousness.
Outside, the distant wail of federal sirens echoed through the falling snow, growing louder with every passing second.
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The war was over.
The monster had fallen.
