Chapter 9 - Shadows from Megan’s Past
The study fell into a silence so profound that Megan could hear the frantic pounding of her own heartbeat inside her ears.
Her knees buckled under the sudden weight of dread, and she had to grip the edge of Dominic’s walnut desk to keep from collapsing to the floor.
“Megan, breathe,” Dominic ordered softly, his voice cutting through the panic spiraling inside her mind.
“You don’t understand who my ex-partner is,” Megan whispered, her voice trembling violently as tears spilled over her eyelashes.
“Tell me,” Dominic commanded, his eyes locked onto hers with unwavering stability.
“His name is Carter Vance,” Megan choked out, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve.
Dominic’s sharp mind instantly cross-referenced the name against his extensive mental database of Atlanta’s criminal underbelly.
“Carter Vance was a low-level financial fixer for commercial zoning scams in Fulton County,” Dominic said, piecing together the connections.
“He was also an abusive, gambling-addicted monster who treated me like property,” Megan confessed, her voice shaking with raw pain.
“When I found out I was pregnant with Leo, Carter wanted me to terminate the pregnancy because a child would ruin his lifestyle,” she said, her voice dropping to a fragile whisper.
“The night Leo was born, Carter took the last eight hundred dollars from our joint savings account to pay off a sports betting debt and vanished,” Megan explained.
“Two months ago, he resurfaced in Atlanta, demanding that I sign over full custody rights so he could claim government family trust allowances,” she said, her hands trembling.
“He threatened to take Leo away from me if I didn't give him five thousand dollars by the end of this month,” Megan whispered, burying her face in her hands.
“That was why you took this job,” Dominic stated, the pieces of her puzzle finally falling into sharp, crystal-clear focus.
“I had eleven dollars in my account, Dominic,” Megan wept softly, her pride completely stripped away by the terrifying reality facing her.
“I took this job because I was willing to clean toilets, scrub floors, and endure an arrogant billionaire’s insults just to keep my baby safe from that man,” she said.
Dominic felt a sudden, scorching fury ignite in his chest—not directed at Megan, but at the parasitic coward who had dared to torment this resilient woman.
“Carter Vance will not touch a single hair on your head, Megan,” Dominic said, his voice dropping into a register of absolute, terrifying finality.
“You don’t know Carter; he is reckless, desperate, and he owes money to dangerous loan sharks,” Megan argued, shaking her head in despair.
“And Vincent Gallo just bought his loyalty for pennies,” Dominic pointed out coldly.
Before Megan could respond, the security monitor mounted on the east wall began flashing with a yellow perimeter alert.
Marcus’s voice crackled through the intercom system immediately.
“Boss, an unidentified silver sedan just pulled up to the outer intercom gate,” Marcus reported.
“Who is inside the vehicle?” Dominic asked, leaning toward the microphone.
“One male driver, mid-thirties, unkempt appearance, claiming to be the biological father of the child residing on the premises,” Marcus answered.
Megan gasped, her eyes flying to the security feed displayed on the large monitor screen.
Standing outside the driver-side door of the battered sedan was Carter Vance, holding an official-looking legal envelope in his hand.
He looked older, haggard, and wore a cheap leather jacket, but the arrogant, entitled smirk on his face was unmistakably the same.
“He’s here,” Megan whispered, her voice barely audible as panic seized her throat. “Dominic, please, don’t let him take Leo.”
Dominic looked up at her, reaching out his large hand to gently grasp her trembling wrist.
His grip was warm, solid, and utterly unyielding, anchoring her against the storm of fear threatening to consume her.
“No one takes anything from inside these walls, Megan,” Dominic promised, his eyes burning with lethal determination.
He pressed the security button on his console.
“Marcus, allow Mr. Vance through the gates and escort him directly to the grand foyer,” Dominic instructed.
“Dominic, no!” Megan cried out, trying to pull away from his grip. “You can’t bring him inside!”
“If we leave him at the gates, he runs back to Gallo with information about our perimeter defenses,” Dominic explained calmly.
“If we bring him inside, we control the ground, the leverage, and the outcome,” Dominic added.
He released her wrist and looked straight into her eyes.
“Go upstairs to the master suite and stay with your son,” Dominic said gently.
“No,” Megan answered immediately, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the palm of her hand.
“Excuse me?” Dominic asked, raising an eyebrow at her sudden defiance.
“Carter Vance has spent two years terrorizing me while I had no one in my corner,” Megan said, her chin lifting with fierce resolve.
“I am not hiding under a bed while you fight my battles for me,” she declared, her eyes blazing with stubborn courage.
“I will stand right beside your wheelchair, Dominic, and look that coward in the face,” Megan said firmly.
May you like
Dominic looked at her for three long seconds, feeling a profound surge of admiration for the indomitable woman standing before him.
“Then stand beside me, Megan Foster,” Dominic said softly. “And watch how a real man handles a predator.”
