Chapter 8 - The Name on the ContractBack at the Vale estate, the basement holding room felt colder and more menacing than before.
Arthur Pendelton sat chained to the metal chair, shivering despite the mild autumn temperature. His expensive clothes were stained with dirt, and the smug arrogance of a man who thought he had buried his crimes ten years ago was entirely gone.
Dominic stood directly in front of him, his hands resting on the back of an empty steel chair. Marcus and I stood near the door, watching in silence.
“Ten years, Arthur,” Dominic said, his voice dangerously calm. “Ten years I spent blaming myself. Ten years I lived in a silent house because I thought my sister died in a tragic accident.”
Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes darting toward the heavy door as if expecting rescue. “Boss... I was just an employee. I needed the money. My debts—they were going to ruin me—”
“Who paid you?” Dominic interrupted.
“I don't know his name!” Arthur cried out. “I swear to God! He wore a suit, he met me in a parking garage in Manhattan, and he handed me the cash in a briefcase! He said Sofia was poking around my office, asking questions about the logistics company’s offshore accounts!”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “What offshore accounts?”
“Your uncle’s accounts,” Arthur blurted out, panic making him spill everything. “Vincent Vale. He was embezzling funds from the shipping docks through shell companies. Sofia found the ledgers in your father’s old desk. She was going to take them to the police!”
The entire room went dead silent.
I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. Vincent Vale—Dominic’s own uncle, who had taken over the family board seats after Dominic’s father passed away, the smiling, silver-haired relative who attended every family dinner and patted Dominic on the back.
Dominic didn't flinch. But the expression in his eyes turned into something lethal and absolute.
“My uncle,” Dominic said, the words falling like blocks of ice.
“Yes!” Arthur sobbed. “Vincent ordered the hit on her car! He told me to cut the brake lines, make it look like an accident, and promised me a pension for life! I swear to God, I didn't want her to die, but Vincent said if I didn't do it, I’d end up at the bottom of the Hudson!”
Dominic slowly closed his eyes. The realization didn't break him; it forged him into something harder, sharper, and colder than steel.
He turned around, walking slowly toward the door where I stood. He stopped right in front of me, looking down into my eyes.
“Go upstairs, Rachel,” he said quietly, his voice dangerously gentle.
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“Dominic—what are you going to do?” I asked, my heart pounding.
“I’m going to clean house,” he said. He looked at Marcus. “Lock Arthur in the secure vault. And get the cars ready. We’re paying my uncle a visit.”
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