Chapter 10
The Standoff at the Grand Staircase
Chaos exploded across the ballroom.
Simon panicked, releasing my arm and trying to sprint toward the service elevators with his laptop.
I didn't hesitate.
I swept my leg out in a sharp, violent arc, catching Simon behind the knee.
He crashed hard onto the marble floor, his laptop flying out of his hands and sliding across the polished surface.
Before he could recover, Detective Miller strode over and pressed the heel of his heavy shoe squarely onto Simon’s chest.
“Stay down, management,” Miller muttered, clicking handcuffs onto his wrists.
Dominic didn't run.
He stood in the center of the room, surrounded by federal agents, his hands raised slightly, his dark eyes burning with pure, psychopathic hatred directed straight at me.
“You think this is a victory, Clara?” Dominic snarled, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings.
“The syndicate owns half the federal judges in this district. I’ll be out on bail by sunrise.”
“Not this time, Dominic,” I said, walking slowly toward him until we stood inches apart.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out his father’s restored pocket watch.
I clicked open the inner case.
Every moment still begins with us.
“You forgot the fundamental rule of power, Dominic,” I whispered, looking straight into his dilated pupils.
“You can buy politicians. You can buy judges. You can even buy memories.”
I snapped the watch shut.
“But you can never buy a daughter’s revenge.”
Federal Agent Vance stepped forward, grabbing Dominic’s shoulders with heavy-duty steel cuffs.
“Dominic Pierce, you are under federal arrest for racketeering, conspiracy, murder, and international money laundering,” Vance recited coldly.
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Dominic didn't say another word.
He allowed the agents to haul him away toward the grand staircase, his head bowed, his invincible aura shattered into dust.
