Chapter 7 - THE FINAL CONFRONTATION
Before Dominic could pull the trigger, a sharp, deafening pop echoed through the room.
A non-lethal rubber shock-round fired from Marcus Vance’s tactical rifle struck Dominic’s wrist with surgical precision. The silver handgun flew out of his hand, clattering harmlessly across the marble floor.
Dominic screamed in pain, clutching his bruised hand as he fell to his knees on the rug.
Marcus stepped forward, kicking the handgun under the sofa, while two security operators pinned Dominic’s arms behind his back, forcing him down into the dirt.
I walked over, standing directly over my former husband.
"You always were a coward, Dominic," I said, looking down at him. "You couldn't even manage your own crime without hiring someone else to do the heavy lifting."
Dominic looked up at me from the floor, his face pressed against the marble, tears mixing with the grime on his cheek. "Elena... please..." he begged, his voice breaking into pitiful sobs. "We were married for four years! Remember the good times? Remember Paris? Remember our wedding? You loved me once!"
I knelt down, resting my elbows on my knees, looking into his pathetic eyes.
"I loved the man I thought you were," I said softly. "I loved the husband who promised to protect me. But that man never existed. You were just a hollow vessel filled with your father’s shadow and your own arrogance."
I pulled the thick black folder from Marcus’s hands—the original legal document executed by Victor before his death—and laid it on the floor in front of Dominic’s face.
"Sign the divorce papers, Dominic," I commanded. "Sign them now, and I will instruct my legal team not to seek the death penalty in your federal murder trial."
Dominic stared at the papers. "You... you would save my life?"
"I'm not saving your life for you," I replied coldly. "I'm saving it so you can spend the next forty years sitting in a six-by-eight concrete cell, watching me build this empire into something you could never dream of."
With shaking, bruised fingers, Dominic picked up the silver pen Marcus offered him. He signed his name on the bottom line of the divorce decree, relinquishing every legal claim to the DeLuca name, the assets, and my life.
I stood up, taking the signed document from his hand.
"Take him away," I ordered.
May you like
Two Interpol agents who had accompanied our convoy stepped into the room, displaying their official badges. They lifted Dominic from the floor, snapping heavy international warrants around his wrists.
As they dragged him toward the waiting police transport outside, Dominic looked back at me one last time—his eyes filled with absolute defeat as the heavy oak doors of the villa slammed shut between us forever.
