Chapter 6 - THE WAR FOR CHICAGO
For three days, the city of Chicago trembled.
Dominic Carver didn't sleep. He didn't eat. He unleashed absolute hell upon the Moretti crime family.
With Julian in custody singing every secret he knew to save his own skin, Dominic destroyed the Moretti empire in less than seventy-two hours. Warehouses were seized, dock routes were confiscated, and by Tuesday morning, the Moretti family bosses were on a plane fleeing to South America, stripped of every dollar they owned.
The underworld was silent. Dominic Carver had proven once again that he was the undisputed king of the city.
Yet inside his massive, silent mansion, Dominic felt like a ghost.
He spent his nights sitting in the armchair in their master bedroom, holding Claire's wedding ring in his palm, staring at the empty side of the bed.
Every morning, Marcus brought him reports. Not about the mafia, but about Claire.
She was staying at a quiet boutique hotel in downtown Chicago. She hadn't left the city. She was working remotely, continuing to manage the Carver Relief Fund from her laptop, ensuring every family received their emergency aid checks on time.
She was doing her job flawlessly. But she refused to answer a single one of Dominic's calls or text messages.
On Wednesday afternoon, Dominic walked into the headquarters of the Carver Relief Fund downtown.
The staff went entirely motionless as the giant, imposing man in the tailored charcoal suit walked past the cubicles straight toward the glass corner office.
Claire was sitting at her desk, reviewing a stack of scholarship applications, wearing a simple cream sweater and black trousers.
When the shadow fell across her desk, she didn't flinch. She set her pen down and looked up.
Dominic looked exhausted. Dark circles shadowed his dark eyes, his jaw was covered in heavy stubble, and he looked leaner, as if he hadn't eaten a proper meal in days.
"Claire," he said quietly.
"Mr. Carver," she replied, keeping her voice strictly professional. "If you're here about the fund's quarterly report, it will be emailed to your board by five o'clock."
Dominic stepped inside the office and closed the heavy glass door behind him, shutting out the stares of the office staff.
"I didn't come for a report, Claire," he said, walking up to her desk. "I came to give you this."
He placed a thick leather binder on her desk.
Claire looked down at it. "What is this?"
"It's the complete legal transfer of the Carver Family Relief Fund," Dominic revealed softly. "I have officially severed it from the Carver estate. It is now a fully independent non-profit foundation. And you are the sole trustee."
Claire blinked in surprise. "Dominic... this fund represents thirty percent of your family's public assets."
"I don't care," Dominic said, looking directly into her eyes. "You were right. The fund belongs to the people who need it, managed by the only person in this city who has absolute integrity. It's yours, Claire. Unconditional. Even if you never speak to me again."
Claire stared at the document, a lump forming in her throat.
"And there's one more thing," Dominic added, pulling a small silver key from his pocket and setting it beside the binder.
"What's that key for?" she asked softly.
"It opens a safe-deposit box at First National Bank," Dominic said. "Inside is every document, ledger, and piece of evidence connecting me to the Carver syndicate. If you ever want a divorce, Claire... you don't need a lawyer. You can hand that key to the federal prosecutor, and you will walk away with everything I own while I spend the rest of my life in a prison cell."
May you like
Claire gasped, her eyes widening in absolute shock. "Dominic... are you out of your mind? You're handing me the power to destroy your entire empire!"
"I'm handing you my life, Claire," Dominic said, his voice breaking with raw, absolute vulnerability. "Because without you, my empire means nothing anyway."
