Chapter 9 - THE VERDICT BELOW THE EARTH
Dominic slowly reached inside his tailored cream suit jacket.
Nathan’s eyes tracked the movement instantly. For the first time, pure, unadulterated fear washed over the traitor’s face. He took a instinctive step backward, his back hitting the cold, unyielding stone frame of the vault door.
"Dom... wait," Nathan stammered, his voice suddenly losing its bitter edge, replaced by the desperate plea of a man looking into his own grave. "Think about this. You kill me down here, the Morettis will launch an all-out war on the Jersey docks by morning. You need me to navigate the capitulation—"
Dominic didn't draw a gun.
Instead, he pulled out his leather glove, slowly pulling the fine black leather over his right hand, flexing his fingers into a tight, heavy fist.
"Marcus," Dominic commanded coldly. "Take Mia and Harper upstairs. Have Dr. Harrison treat them in the primary suite. Nobody enters that room except you and Daniel."
"Boss—" Marcus started, hesitant to leave his head of security alone in the dark basement.
"Take them up now," Dominic repeated, his voice carrying an authority that permitted no debate.
Marcus quickly nodded. He stepped forward, carefully lifting Mia into his broad arms, wrapping her in his heavy tactical winter coat to protect her from the drafts. Daniel gently lifted little Harper into his arms. The little girl wrapped her arms tight around Daniel's neck, her swollen eyes staring over his shoulder at Dominic.
"Boss..." Harper whimpered softly through her tears.
Dominic looked at the small child, his hard features softening for a fraction of a second.
"Go upstairs with Mommy, Harper," Dominic said gently. "The bad dream is over."
Harper nodded weakly, pressing her face against Daniel's shoulder as the security men carried the mother and daughter out of the dark wine cellar and up the iron staircase toward the light, warmth, and safety of the upper estate.
The heavy footsteps of the guards faded up the iron stairs, leaving only Dominic and Nathan standing in the subterranean vault.
The ambient light from the hallway cast long, sinister shadows across the rough fieldstone walls. The cold air felt heavy, stagnant, and thick with the scent of judgment.
Nathan backed further into the vault, his hands raised in front of him, his breathing fast and ragged. The smooth, polished lieutenant was completely gone; in his place stood a terrified man trapped in a dark stone room with the most dangerous figure in the tri-state underworld.
"Dom... please," Nathan begged, his voice cracking. "We were brothers. Seventeen years. You can't do this over a mistake—"
"It wasn't a mistake, Nathan," Dominic said, stepping slowly into the vault, his heavy leather shoes crunching over the shattered pieces of the brass padlock. "It was a choice. You chose to betray this house. You chose to hurt a mother and her child."
"I can fix it!" Nathan cried out, his back pressed flat against the ancient wooden wine racks. "I can give you Moretti! I can set up a sit-down in Newark! I'll give you everything!"
Dominic stopped in front of him. He looked down at Nathan with an expression of cold, emotionless finality.
"You gave me seventeen years of service," Dominic said softly, raising his gloved right hand. "And for that, I'm going to make sure your family is taken care of after you're gone. But you... you don't get to leave this cellar."
"Dominic, NO—"
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Nathan made a desperate, wild attempt to lunging forward, reaching for Dominic's throat.
Dominic moved with terrifying speed. He sidestepped the awkward lunge, grabbed Nathan by the lapels of his crisp white shirt, and slammed him back against the heavy stone wall with bone-shattering force.
