Chapter 8 - The Aftermath in Long Island
By midnight, my estate looked like a warzone, but the war was finally over.
Federal agents, local police, and state troopers filled the driveway. But instead of arresting me, they were loading Prescott Hale and six of his co-conspirators into armored transport vans.
The evidence Marcus—Grace's brother and a federal analyst—had compiled from Prescott's private servers had already reached the U.S. Attorney's office. Prescott's rogue operation was exposed, and his entire network was being dismantled across three states.
I sat on the tailgate of an ambulance in the driveway, a paramedic wrapping a clean white bandage around my wounded shoulder.
A few feet away, a federal prosecutor—a man named Vance who had tried to put me in prison for ten years—walked up to me, holding a thick file.
"You got lucky, Romano," Vance said, looking over at the ruined mansion. "If it weren't for the audio recordings Miss Bennett secured from Prescott's office over the last two months, you'd be in handcuffs right now."
I looked over at Grace, who was sitting on a bench near the garden with my daughters wrapped in thick wool blankets, drinking hot chocolate.
"Grace secured recordings?" I asked, surprised.
Vance nodded. "She wasn't just a housekeeper, Dominic. She came into your house through a federal witness protection liaison program. Her father was an honest cop Prescott murdered ten years ago. She came here looking for justice for her own family."
I stared at her, my mind spinning.
Grace hadn't just stumbled into my life. She had fought her way into the heart of the storm, risking everything to expose the man who had destroyed both our families.
"Your record isn't completely clean, Romano," Vance added, closing his file. "But given your cooperation in bringing down a rogue federal syndicate, the District Attorney is granting you full immunity. You're a free man."
"I was never interested in being a boss, Vance," I said, standing up from the ambulance, my voice quiet and tired. "I was just trying to protect what was mine."
Vance offered a brief, respectful nod, turned, and walked toward his sedan.
I walked across the damp gravel toward the bench where Grace and my daughters sat.
When Nora saw me coming, she dropped her plastic cup, jumped off the bench, and ran toward me as fast as her small legs could carry her.
"Daddy!" she cheered.
I caught her in my good arm, lifting her high into the air before pulling her tight against my chest. Olivia and Sophie ran up a second later, throwing their arms around my legs.
I looked over their heads at Grace, who stood up slowly, her hands folded in her sweater pockets.
"You lied to me about the agency, Miss Bennett," I said softly, though there was no anger in my voice.
Grace offered a small, hesitant smile. "I did what I had to do to catch the man who killed my father, Mr. Romano. I didn't expect to fall in love with three little girls along the way."
"They love you too," I said, looking down at my daughters, who were clinging to me like I was the center of the universe. "And so do I."
May you like
Grace blinked, a warm flush rising to her cheeks in the cool night air. "What did you say?"
"I said thank you," I corrected smoothly with a subtle smile, though the truth of what I felt was already sitting between us, clear as the night sky. "For bringing my daughters back to me."
