Chapter 3 - The Interrogation in the DarkThe subterranean basement parking level beneath Northwestern Memorial Hospital was freezing, smelling of damp concrete, exhaust fumes, and cold rain.
A single black armored SUV sat parked in the far corner, away from the security cameras. Four of my most lethal enforcers stood guard around the vehicle, their dark coats drawn tight against the draft.
When I stepped off the concrete stairs into the dim light of the garage, the men immediately straightened, opening the heavy rear door of the SUV.
Inside, tied to the leather seat with heavy nylon restraints, sat Serena.
Her pristine blonde hair was disheveled, her silk dress torn at the shoulder, her mascara running down her cheeks in dark, messy streaks. When she saw my face—and the dark, dead eyes looking back at her—a high-pitched, hysterical shriek of pure terror escaped her throat.
"Dom! Dom, please!" she sobbed, thrashing against the nylon straps. "They grabbed me at the airfield! Tell them to let me go! I was just scared! I didn't mean to run away!"
I walked over slowly, standing in the open doorway of the vehicle, resting my right hand casually on the heavy leather headrest beside her face. I didn't draw my gun. I didn't shout. My calm was far more terrifying than any thunderous rage.
"Five hundred thousand dollars, Serena," I said, my voice dropping into a smooth, conversational tone. "That’s what Lorenzo Moretti paid you to ruin my life."
Serena froze mid-sob. The frantic, victimized expression on her face faltered for a fraction of a second, her dark eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp panic.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about—"
"I have the blockchain transaction logs, Serena," I interrupted gently, reaching out with my left hand to lightly brush a strand of blonde hair away from her forehead. She flinched violently at my touch, her body trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. "I have the burner phone receipt from the kiosk in River North. I have the text messages you sent to my wife while she was preparing for our anniversary dinner."
Tears overflowed her eyelashes, but they weren't tears of remorse. They were the frantic, desperate tears of a caught rat.
"He threatened me, Dom!" she lied frantically, her voice pitching up into a squeak. "Lorenzo said he would kill my family if I didn't help him! I had no choice! I didn't know he was going to crash her car! I thought he was just going to buy her off to leave you!"
I let out a soft, humorless laugh that echoed off the damp concrete walls of the garage.
"Clara drove into that storm because she thought my empire was in danger," I murmured, leaning in until my face was inches from hers. "She faced a hit squad to protect a man who was lying in bed with you. And you sold her life for half a million dollars so you could buy shoes."
I reached down, pulling my automatic pistol from my holster, resting the cool, steel barrel softly beneath her chin.
Serena let out a choked, whimpering gasp, her eyes rolling up in terror. "Dom... please... don't kill me... I'll tell you where Lorenzo's safehouses are! I'll give you his private codes! I'll give back the money!"
"I don't want your information, Serena," I whispered, every word carved from pure ice. "And I'm not going to shoot you. Shooting you is too quick. It's too clean."
I pulled the gun back, sliding it back into my holster, and looked over my shoulder at my enforcer, Marco.
"Call the Federal Prosecutor's Office," I commanded softly. "Hand them the complete, unredacted financial files on Serena Hayes, her family's shell companies, and her connection to Lorenzo Moretti’s narcotics syndicate. Ensure she is charged with treason, wire fraud, and conspiracy to commit murder."
Serena gasped, horror washing over her face. In our world, being handed to the federal government as a syndicate co-conspirator meant a life sentence in a high-security federal facility, stripped of every cent she had ever touched.
"No! Dom, please! Put me in prison and Moretti's men will kill me in my cell!" she screamed, thrashing against the straps. "Shoot me! Dom, please just shoot me!"
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"Live with what you built, Serena," I said, stepping back from the SUV and slamming the heavy door shut, cutting off her hysterical shrieks instantly.
I turned to Marco. "Assemble every crew we have in the city. Mobilize the northern and western divisions. We are riding south to Canal Street."
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