Chapter 3 - The Price of a Secret
The name Caleb struck the room like a physical blow.
Dominic didn't panic. His expression hardened into pure granite. He looked down at Harper, whose face had gone chalk-white. The man who had shattered her heart twenty minutes ago was standing on the other side of that door, flanked by federal agents, marching straight into the lion’s den.
“He’s looking for the briefcase,” one of the guards hissed, drawing his firearm. “Boss, give the word. We take them out before they reach the corridor.”
“No,” Dominic commanded, his voice dropping into a register that brook zero argument. He stepped away from Harper and walked toward the head of the table, snapping the leather briefcase shut with a sharp clack. He tossed it effortlessly to his lead guard. “Move the cash to the lower vault. Clear the blood off the table. Make this room look like a standard corporate back office.”
In seconds, the room was transformed. The guards moved with terrifying military precision. Within thirty seconds, the bloodstained cloth was gone, the table was wiped clean, and only two men remained in the room alongside Dominic.
Dominic turned his gaze back to Harper. She was still sitting frozen in her chair, her chest heaving as the panic threatened to swallow her whole.
“Listen to me very carefully, Harper,” Dominic said, stepping right up to her and placing both hands on the arms of her chair, trapping her in his intense, unwavering focus. “Your fiancé thinks he can play a double game with federal protection. He thinks bringing feds into my club is a power move. But if those agents cross this threshold, they aren't going to find money laundering. They’re going to find a broken-hearted woman who caught her cheating fiancé and ran into the wrong room to hide.”
“You want me to lie to federal agents?” Harper gasped.
“I want you to survive,” Dominic replied coldly. “And if you play your cards right, I’ll give you a front-row seat to the destruction of the man who humiliated you.”
Before Harper could process the sheer insanity of the proposal, the heavy oak door was unlocked from the outside.
The deadbolt slid back with a loud clack, and the door swung open.
Standing in the doorway was Caleb Vance. He looked immaculate in his charcoal-grey suit, his styled hair slightly tousled, but his eyes were wide with a frantic, desperate energy. Behind him stood two men in plain suits displaying federal badges, flanked by club security who looked deeply uncomfortable.
Caleb’s eyes swept the room, instantly locking onto Harper sitting at the table with a glass of whiskey in front of her.
For a split second, Caleb froze. The color drained from his face. “Harper? What the hell are you doing in here?”
Harper’s heart hammered against her ribs, but as she looked at the man she had loved for three years—the man who had kissed her best friend while she was picking out invitations—every ounce of residual grief evaporated, replaced by a cold, sharp survival instinct.
She took a slow sip of her whiskey, set the glass down, and looked at Caleb with absolute, freezing contempt.
“I could ask you the same thing, Caleb,” Harper said, her voice eerily calm. “Though I suppose sneaking around behind my back with Chloe was just practice for whatever illegal garbage you’re dragging federal agents into.”
Caleb flinched as if he’d been slapped. One of the federal agents stepped forward, flashing his badge. “Ma’am, I’m Agent Miller, FBI. I need you to step away from this table immediately. Mr. Vance, is this the woman you reported missing?”
“Missing?” Harper let out a dry, sharp laugh, standing up slowly from her chair. She walked right past Caleb, her shoulder brushing against his expensive suit, and turned to face the federal agent. “I wasn't missing, Agent Miller. I was trying to find a quiet place to process the fact that my fiancé is a cheating, lying coward. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled into a private office and found out he’s also a criminal.”
Caleb’s face turned the color of ash. He lunged forward, grabbing Harper’s arm with a grip that bruised her skin. “Shut your mouth, Harper! You don't know what you’re talking about!”
Bang!
Before Caleb’s fingers could tighten further, Dominic moved with lightning speed. He grabbed Caleb’s wrist, twisting it upward with bone-crushing force until Caleb cried out in agony and released Harper’s arm.
May you like
Dominic stepped between them, his towering frame completely overshadowing Caleb, his grey eyes flashing with lethal promise.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Vance,” Dominic said softly, his voice dripping with venom. “In my club, we don't tolerate men who put their hands on women. Especially not women who are under my protection.”
