Chapter 4 - Federal IntrigueThe word federal was usually enough to make any legitimate businessman break out in a cold sweat. In Dominic Vale’s world, it was an explicit declaration of war.
Within thirty seconds, the entire atmosphere of the estate shifted from a high-end corporate office into a tactical war room.
“Lock down the lower archives,” Dominic instructed, standing up with fluid, dangerous grace. He buttoned his suit jacket, his expression carved from stone. “Maya, take the encrypted backup drives from the safe in my study and move them to the secure vault downstairs.”
“Mr. Vale, federal marshals don’t just show up at a private residence without a warrant or a scheduled subpoena,” I pointed out, my heart racing as my organizational instincts kicked in. “If they’re here unannounced, it means they’re fishing. They’re trying to catch you off guard before your legal team can arrive.”
Dominic stopped halfway across the room, turning to look at me with stark surprise. “You know federal protocol?”
“My uncle was a federal prosecutor in Chicago before he retired,” I said quickly, pulling the keys to the wall safe out of my pocket. “They rely on intimidation and surprise. If you let them in without demanding specific jurisdictional clearance, they’ll search areas not covered by their warrant.”
Dominic stared at me for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Then a slow, lethal smile spread across his face.
“Go to the vault,” he murmured. “And Maya? Don’t let them rattle you.”
“I’ve dealt with angry art gallery owners and frantic brides, Mr. Vale. Federal agents are just men in cheaper suits.”
As I hurried down to the private basement vault to secure the drives, Marcus escorted two federal agents and Senator Vance’s chief of staff, Arthur Pendelton, into the grand foyer upstairs.
Through the internal security monitors in the vault, I watched the confrontation unfold on the live feed.
Arthur Pendelton, a sleek, silver-haired man in a bespoke gray suit, stood in the center of the foyer with an air of absolute arrogance. Behind him stood two federal marshals in tactical gear.
Dominic descended the grand staircase slowly, his hands in his pockets, looking as relaxed as if he were greeting old college friends.
“Mr. Pendelton,” Dominic said smoothly, his voice carrying clearly through the intercom speakers. “To what do I owe the absolute lack of pleasure of your company?”
Pendelton sneered. “Save the charm, Vale. We have reliable intelligence that your Westchester logistics hubs are being used to funnel contraband across state lines under the cover of federal transport contracts.”
“Contraband,” Dominic repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a serious accusation, Arthur. Especially coming from a man whose re-election campaign was recently investigated for receiving anonymous donations from shell companies linked to Montreal.”
Pendelton’s face paled slightly, though he quickly recovered his composure. “We have a search warrant, Vale. Sign it or watch us tear this estate apart brick by brick.”
“Let me see the warrant,” Dominic said calmly.
Pendelton handed over the document. Dominic scanned it slowly, his eyes narrowing. Then he looked up at the federal agents.
“Agent Miller, Agent Davis,” Dominic addressed the two marshals directly. “Look at section four, paragraph B of the document Mr. Pendelton handed you.”
The lead marshal leaned in, reading the clause. His expression darkened.
“Mr. Pendelton,” the marshal said stiffly, turning to the chief of staff. “This warrant expired at midnight. It is legally void.”
Pendelton’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s impossible—the judge signed it yesterday—”
“It seems your administrative staff is as incompetent as your campaign managers, Arthur,” Dominic said, his voice dropping into that dark, velvety register that signaled playtime was over. “You have two minutes to get off my property before my security chief escorts you out via the drainage ditch.”
Pendelton glared with venomous hatred, realizing he had been outmaneuvered. “This isn't over, Vale. The federal government doesn’t forget.”
“Neither do I,” Dominic replied softly.
As Pendelton and the marshals stormed out of the foyer, I let out a long, shaky breath of relief in the basement vault. I secured the drives, locked the safe, and started back upstairs.
When I reached the study, Dominic was standing by the desk, staring thoughtfully at the door.
“Well handled,” he said without turning around.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, stepping into the room. “Though I suspect Arthur Pendelton is going to try something far less legal next time.”
Dominic turned, his dark eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made it difficult to breathe. He walked toward me, closing the distance until he was standing mere inches away.
“Let him try,” Dominic whispered, his hand rising to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Right now, I have more pressing matters to attend to.”
May you like
“Such as?” I asked breathlessly.
“Vince Rossi is waiting in the basement,” Dominic replied, his voice hardening into steel. “And it’s time to find out who told him he could steal from my family.”
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