Chapter 7 - The War Room
Within 15 minutes, the master suite had been converted into a command center.
Security monitors flickered across the walls, displaying perimeter feeds of the estate gates, the winding driveway, and the coastline below.
Norah stood by the window, dressed in a fresh blouse and trousers, her laptop open on a small table.
Her hands were steady.
The auditor inside her had taken over the panic.
“Vance doesn't just want the money,” Norah said, analyzing the data feeds Marcus had pulled up. “Look at his portfolio. His liquidity is dropping. If these offshore accounts are seized or audited by federal agencies through Vance’s leaks, his entire narcotics pipeline gets exposed.”
Dominic stood behind her chair, leaning over her shoulder, a tactical tablet in his hand.
“He’s desperate,” Dominic stated. “And desperate men make mistakes.”
“We can use that,” Norah said, her eyes narrowing as she highlighted a series of corporate shell companies on her screen. “Vance thinks he has the upper hand because he knows about the $300,000 Frank stole. But he doesn't know that Frank was also skimming from Vance’s own syndicate accounts.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow.
“Explain.”
“Look at the transaction timestamps,” Norah tapped her trackpad rapidly. “Frank wasn't just working for you. 6 months ago, he was double-crossing Vance’s front companies. I have the digital paper trail linking Vance’s primary money launderer to the exact same offshore accounts.”
Marcus whistled low.
“Holy hell. If we leak this to federal investigators anonymously while simultaneously draining Vance’s primary operational accounts into a dead-end trust...”
“Vance will be too busy dodging federal indictments and rival cartel hits to ever look at this estate,” Norah finished triumphantly.
Dominic stared at her, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face.
“You are a weapon, Norah Miller,” Dominic said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders. “A terrifying, beautiful weapon.”
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“I learned from the best,” she retorted with a dry smirk.
“Marcus,” Dominic ordered, turning sharply to his enforcer. “Execute the digital transfer. Route every cent of Vance’s slush funds into the federal tax compliance bureau under an anonymous whistleblower flag. And double the perimeter guard. Vance makes his move tonight.”
