Chapter 10
Dominic glanced down at his wrist, his dark eyes scanning the encrypted text scrolling across the high-end digital display of his timepiece. The message was brief, but its implications were staggering. The unknown buyer who had paid Julian for the livestream was not a local rival, nor was he a disgruntled competitor from Boston. The digital signature traced back through three different offshore servers directly to a heavily fortified compound in Marseille, France—controlled by an old, unforgiving adversary Dominic thought he had permanently buried a decade ago.
Julian continued to sob on the carpet, begging for mercy. "Please, sir! I have a family! Let me go, I won't tell anyone! I'll leave the country!"
Dominic gently lifted the sleeping Maya into a more comfortable position, signaling to Marcus with a single, subtle tilt of his head. The peaceful illusion of the ocean-conservation gala had completely evaporated, replaced by the grim, undeniable reality of a global war arriving at his doorstep.
"Take him away," Dominic instructed softly, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Lock him in the lower vault until I decide whether his stupidity warrants a bullet or a shovel. But make sure he understands he is never stepping foot outside alive."
"No! Please! Mr. Dominic, have mercy!" Julian screamed as Marcus and the guards hauled him away toward the service elevators, his cries echoing in the cavernous room.
As the heavy steel doors closed behind them once more, Dominic stood up slowly, carrying his granddaughter in his arms. He walked out of the ruined donor lounge, stepping out into the grand lobby of the marine museum. The cool night air hit his face as the automatic glass doors slid open to reveal a fleet of black sedans waiting on the waterfront street, their engines idling in the dark.
He slid into the back of the lead vehicle, holding Maya close as the car pulled away from the curb, merging into the silent Boston traffic. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and neon against the rain-slicked windows. Dominic pulled out his encrypted satellite phone with one hand, keeping the other securely around his granddaughter. He dialed a single, pre-programmed speed-dial number that hadn't been active in ten years.
After two long rings, a deep, raspy voice answered from the other side of the Atlantic.
"It’s about time you called, old friend," the voice murmured in French-accented English. "I trust you enjoyed the show in Boston? The game on the board has only just begun."
Dominic’s lips curled into a cold, merciless smile, his eyes reflecting the dark, open expanse of the ocean ahead.
May you like
"The board is mine," Dominic replied quietly, his voice cutting through the secure line like a blade. "And this time, I'm burning your side of the board to ash."
He hung up the phone before the adversary could reply, leaving the connection dead in the dark as the black sedan sped faster into the night, disappearing toward the horizon where an open-ended storm was rapidly brewing.
