Chapter 6 - THE COUNTERATTACK AND THE SECRET IN THE LEDGER
Vincent’s smug expression vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden flash of unease. “What are you talking about?”
“You think I didn't anticipate this?” Dominic tilted his head, his gaze piercing right through his cousin. “You think I didn't know who leaked my itinerary to the hit squad last week? You think I didn't know whose men were skimming off the Newark docks?”
Vincent’s jaw tightened. “You’re bluffing. You were shot in the dark; you didn’t see anything.”
“I didn't need to see,” Dominic said coldly. He turned his head toward Leo, who stood near the doorway. “Leo. The second ledger from the floor safe.”
Leo stepped forward, holding a heavy, leather-bound book with brass corners. He walked across the room and placed it squarely on the bed, right on top of the shipping manifests Vincent had brought.
Dominic flipped open the heavy pages with his left hand, revealing neat columns of numbers, offshore account numbers, and signed receipts bearing Vincent’s personal seal.
“Every bribe, every smuggled container, every transaction you tried to route through shell companies in the Cayman Islands over the last six months,” Dominic recited softly, his eyes scanning the pages. “It’s all here, Vinnie. Not just my copies. Copies that are currently sitting in the hands of federal prosecutors who owe me favors dating back twenty years.”
Vincent went completely white. The color drained from his face so fast he looked like a ghost. He took a half-step backward, his hands balling into tight fists at his sides.
“You’re lying,” Vincent hissed, his voice cracking slightly. “You wouldn't burn the family down just to get to me.”
“I am the family,” Dominic replied, his voice echoing through the silent room like thunder. “And you just tried to assassinate the head of it. Guards.”
In a fraction of a second, the two loyal guards flanking the doorway stepped inside, blocking the exit. Dominic’s personal security team drew their sidearms with practiced smoothness, their weapons leveling directly at Vincent and his men.
Vincent’s guards instinctively reached for their jackets, but Vincent slammed his hand down on the desk. “Don't! Don't be stupid!” He glared at Dominic, his chest heaving with rage and panic. “You think this makes you safe? If I go down, half the syndicate goes down with me. You’ll tear the entire empire apart from the inside out!”
“Then hand over your shares, sign the resignation papers on that desk, and get off my mountain before the sun comes up,” Dominic said quietly, his eyes dark and absolute. “Otherwise, you won't make it past the front gates.”
Vincent stared at Dominic for several agonizing seconds, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He realized he had walked into a trap. Defeated, trembling with suppressed fury, Vincent snatched a pen from the desk, flipped open the transfer document, and violently slashed his signature across the bottom line.
May you like
“You win, Dom,” Vincent spat, slamming the pen down. He turned sharply toward the door. “Enjoy your bed. It’s going to be your tomb.”
With a furious gesture, Vincent and his guards stormed out of the bedroom, their angry footsteps echoing down the grand staircase until the heavy front door slammed shut below.
