Chapter 6 - The Scarsdale Confrontation
The ride to Scarsdale was silent and lethal. Three armored dark SUVs cut through the pouring rain, moving at high speeds down the quiet, tree-lined avenues of one of Westchester's wealthiest enclaves.
I sat in the back seat of the lead vehicle next to Dominic. He had changed into a fresh black shirt and leather jacket. His hand hadn't left mine since we left the mansion. His grip was firm, grounding, a stark contrast to the dangerous fury radiating from his posture.
"What happens when we get there?" I asked quietly, looking out at the rain-streaked window.
"Julian made a fatal error," Dominic stated, his voice flat and precise. "He brought violence into my home. In our world, that requires an absolute response. If I show mercy tonight, every rival family in New York will think I'm weak."
"Are you going to kill him?"
Dominic turned his head, his hazel eyes fixing on me in the dim interior light of the car. "I am going to destroy him, Rachel. How that happens depends entirely on how smart Julian chooses to be in the next ten minutes."
The vehicles pulled up to a massive wrought-iron gate guarding a sprawling Italianate mansion. Marcus, sitting in the front passenger seat, tapped a device on his wrist. "Security system is looped, Boss. We have three minutes before his backup arrives."
The SUV didn't stop. The driver accelerated, smashing through the electronic gate with a thunderous crunch of metal, bringing the heavy vehicle to a halt right on the manicured front lawn.
Dominic stepped out into the rain, pulling me gently behind him under the cover of Marcus’s umbrella. Eight armed guards moved in tight formation around us as we breached the front glass doors of the mansion.
Inside, Julian Moretti was frantically throwing stacks of bearer bonds and passports into a leather duffel bag in his marble foyer. When he heard the front doors shatter, he spun around, pulling a small revolver from his belt.
"Vale!" Moretti screamed, his voice high-pitched with terror. "Get out of my house!"
Dominic didn't even draw his weapon. He walked steadily into the foyer, his long strides effortless, his presence filling the opulent space like a dark tide.
"Put the gun down, Julian," Dominic said calmly. "You're embarrassing yourself."
Moretti’s hand trembled violently as he aimed the revolver at Dominic’s chest. "I have connections! I have people in the FBI! You kill me, and the whole state comes down on you!"
"You don't have anyone left, Julian," I spoke up, stepping out from behind Dominic.
Moretti stared at me, his eyes wide with confusion and rage. "You... the housemaid!"
"Arthur Carter is currently sitting in a secure holding cell at the county precinct, giving a full statement about your extortion racket," I said clearly, holding up my tablet device that Marcus had synced to the local law enforcement network minutes earlier. "And twenty minutes ago, the financial freezing order on your offshore accounts in Grand Cayman went active. You're broke, Julian."
Moretti’s face drained of all color. The revolver in his hand dipped an inch. "What... what are you talking about?"
"She's telling you the truth," Dominic said, stepping closer, his shadow falling completely over the older man. "You used outdated intelligence, you tried to intimidate my staff, and you attacked my estate. Your captains have already surrendered their territories to Marcus. You have nothing left."
Moretti looked at the silver ring on his trembling hand, then up at Dominic’s unforgiving face. The realization of his complete ruin crashed over him. The gun slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly against the polished marble floor.
He fell to his knees, his hands trembling. "Please, Dominic... we've known each other for twenty years. My father worked with your father."
Dominic looked down at the broken man with cold detachment.
"Your life is spared, Julian," Dominic said, his voice ringing through the empty foyer. "For the sake of my father’s memory. But you will leave New York tonight. You will never set foot in Westchester, Yonkers, or Manhattan again. If I ever see your face in this state, I won't send Marcus. I will come myself."
Dominic turned on his heel, taking my hand once more. "Marcus, handle the transport to the airport. Make sure he gets on the plane to Sicily."
"Understood, Boss," Marcus nodded, beckoning two guards forward to scoop Moretti off the floor.
As we walked back out into the cool rain toward the idling SUV, the heavy tension that had weighed on Dominic’s shoulders for days seemed to finally dissipate. He stopped on the wet pavement, looking down at me.
"You handled that brilliantly," Dominic said softly, his thumb caressing the back of my hand.
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"I just read the financial update Marcus sent," I smiled weakly, shivering slightly in the cold air.
Dominic unbuttoned his heavy leather jacket, draped it over my shoulders, and pulled me close against his side. "Let's go home, Rachel."
