Part 4: The Traitor Within
The aftermath of the attack revealed a terrifying truth: the mansion's impenetrable security codes had been deactivated from an internal terminal. There was a rat in the Walker organization, someone high enough to have access to the master server.
Dominic locked down the estate completely. No one was allowed in or out. The atmosphere grew thick with suspicion. I spent most of my days in the secure underground bunker, which had been converted into a luxurious living space for Adriana and me.
Dominic spent hours interrogating his captains. Through the heavy ventilation shafts, I could hear the distant, terrifying echoes of his wrath. He was a man possessed, tearing his own empire apart to find the person who had endangered his child—and me.
One evening, Dominic came down to the bunker. He looked completely drained, dark circles bruising the skin under his eyes. He sat on the sofa, burying his face in his hands.
I poured a glass of scotch from the bar and set it in front of him. "You need to sleep, Dominic. You can't protect her if you collapse."
He looked up, taking the glass but not drinking. "It was Marcus," he said, his voice hollow. "My underboss. The man who stood godfather to Adriana. He sold the codes to Volkov for twenty million dollars and a promise of my throne."
"Where is he now?" I asked, a chill running through me.
"He’s handled," Dominic replied coldly. "But the damage is done. Volkov knows Marcus failed. He will come with everything he has now. This city isn't safe for you anymore, Emily. I am moving you and Adriana to an island off the coast of Maine tomorrow morning."
"Are you coming with us?" The question popped out before I could stop it. I realized with a shock that the thought of him staying behind made my stomach twist with anxiety.
Dominic looked at me, his gaze softening into something deep, heavy, and full of unspoken words. He stood up, walking over until he was inches away from me. He reached out, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from my cheek.
May you like
"I have to finish this war, Emily. If I don't kill Volkov, he will hunt us to the ends of the earth. But I promise you... I will come back for you both. Even if I have to crawl out of hell to do it."
Before I could answer, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against my forehead. It wasn't a gesture of dominance; it was a sacred vow.
