Chapter 4 - The Shadow Above Garrett
By 4:00 AM, the rain outside had turned into a steady, freezing sleet that rattled against the high-rise glass.
Marin had washed her face in the penthouse restroom and returned to the sofa. She looked exhausted, but the hopelessness that had clouded her eyes for years had been replaced by a cold, sharp resolve.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked Dorian, watching him review another stack of documents. "You don't know me. I'm just a cleaner."
Dorian set his pen down. "My sister Clara died three years ago, Marin. Two months before your husband."
Marin looked up, listening.
"Clara was the only person in this city who didn't care about the Vance name," Dorian said, his gaze drifting toward the dark window. "She didn't care about the money, the power, or the fear. She spent her life in pain, but she was kind. When she died, I promised myself I would destroy every man who tried to profit off the weak."
He turned his eyes back to Marin. "Garrett Boyd was my father's protégé. I trusted him with the financial structure of this family. When he stole eighteen million dollars, I thought it was just greed. But learning that he built his fortune on the bodies of men like your husband... that makes it personal."
A quiet knock sounded at the door. Marcus re-entered the room, carrying a tablet and a sleek black leather folder.
"The forensic analyst confirmed it, boss," Marcus reported. "Daniel Caldwell’s signature on the liability waiver was forged using a high-resolution auto-pen template. The template was created at a commercial printer in Rosemont owned by Garrett Boyd’s brother-in-law."
"That's federal forgery and murder by negligence," Dorian said coldness creeping into his voice. "Where is Garrett now?"
"He thinks he’s slipping out of the country," Marcus said, pulling up a map on his tablet. "He booked a private charter out of Midway Airport for 7:00 AM, flying to Saint Martin. He’s currently at his estate in Lake Forest packing cash and bearer bonds."
"He won't make the flight," Dorian said simply.
"There's one more thing," Marcus added, his expression darkening. "Garrett didn't act alone on the upper level. We traced the off-shore accounts that received the Apex transfers. Garrett was splitting the proceeds fifty-fifty with someone on the City Planning Commission."
Dorian’s eyes locked onto Marcus. "Which commissioner?"
"Arthur Vance," Marcus said quietly. "Your uncle."
Marin gasped softly.
Dorian’s expression didn't change, but the air in the room suddenly felt twenty degrees colder. Arthur Vance was his father’s older brother—a senior politician who had spent thirty years maintaining the family’s political immunity while quietly lining his pockets.
"My uncle," Dorian murmured, a dark, terrible smile touching his lips. "He always did prefer dirty money to an honest legacy."
He stood up, buttoning his dark suit jacket.
"Marcus, prepare the cars. We're going to Lake Forest."
He looked at Marin. "You're coming with us."
Marin blinked. "Me? Why?"
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"Because Garrett Boyd needs to look into the eyes of the woman he tried to erase before he spends the rest of his life in a concrete box," Dorian said. "And because Titan won't let you leave this room without him anyway."
As if to prove the point, Titan stood up, let out a deep bark, and stood firmly at Marin’s side.
