Chapter 4 - The Federal InterrogationThe private study on the third floor of the Bellardi estate smelled of aged leather, pipe tobacco, and impending disaster. The heavy oak doors were bolted from the inside, but the tension in the room could have cut through steel.
I sat rigidly in a wingback chair, wearing a thick woolen sweater, while Dominic stood near the fireplace like a statue carved from granite, his hand resting casually inside his pocket near his firearm.
Across from us sat Special Agent Sarah Vance of the FBI’s Organized Crime Task Force. She was in her late forties, with sharp eyes, a tailored charcoal suit, and an expression that suggested she hadn't slept in a week. Between us on the mahogany coffee table lay a thick manila folder stamped with red classification seals.
"Let's not pretend we're attending a Sunday tea party, Mr. Russo," Agent Vance began, her voice crisp and devoid of warmth. She glanced briefly at me before returning her laser focus to Dominic. "And let's certainly not pretend Miss Sterling is here of her own free will."
"I am here because I choose to be, Agent Vance," I spoke up, my voice steady despite the adrenaline spiking in my veins.
Vance raised an eyebrow, sliding a photograph across the table. It was a surveillance still taken outside the Chicago clinic earlier that day—me, looking pale and terrified, being carried by Dominic into the Escalade while gunfire echoed in the background.
"Right. Stockholm syndrome is a powerful thing when you're pregnant with a crime lord's baby," Vance retorted dryly. She turned her attention back to me. "Miss Sterling, your former fiancé, Derek Hall, is currently in federal custody singing like a canary. He spilled every detail of his illicit loans, his money laundering through Sterling & Associates, and his contacts with the Eastern Syndicate."
My stomach clenched. "Derek... he was laundering money through my father's firm?"
"Without your knowledge, yes," Vance confirmed. "Your father's old company was just a shell to him. But Derek also gave us something much more interesting. He gave us the timeline of your relationship with Mr. Russo."
Dominic stepped forward, his shadow falling over the table like a dark cloud. "If you're here to threaten the mother of my child, Agent Vance, you're standing in the wrong room. And you won't walk out of it."
"I'm not here to threaten anyone, Dominic," Vance said, her voice dropping into a pragmatic, weary tone. "I'm here to offer a deal. The Eastern Syndicate has put a bounty on your head, and anyone connected to you—including Miss Sterling and her unborn child—is an immediate target. Derek's arrest triggered a massive retaliation. They're coming for this estate, and they're bringing heavy artillery."
The room went dead silent. The crackle of the fire sounded deafening against the stillness.
"And what does the FBI want in exchange for protecting us?" Dominic asked, his voice narrowing into a dangerous hiss.
"We don't want protection money, and we don't want your blood on our hands," Vance said, leaning forward. "We want the encrypted offshore ledger containing every corrupt politician, judge, and cartel leader in the Tri-State area—the one you seized from Derek’s associates last month. Hand over the ledger, and my team will provide a secure federal safehouse for Miss Sterling until the baby is born."
I looked from Agent Vance to Dominic. The ledger. The key to destroying the entire criminal underworld that had trapped us both.
Dominic didn't hesitate for even a microsecond.
"No," he said flatly.
"Dominic—!" I started to protest, standing up from my chair. "If the FBI can keep us safe—"
"They can't," Dominic interrupted, his eyes locking onto mine with absolute, unyielding intensity. "Federal safehouses are leaking sieves, Chloe. The moment I hand over that ledger, my enemies will tear through the FBI detail like paper to get to you. The only place safe for my child is right here, behind my walls, protected by my men."
"And what about when they bring heavy artillery?" Vance challenged, standing up to face him eye-to-eye. "You can't fight an army alone, Russo."
"I'm not alone," Dominic replied, a grim, terrifying smile touching his lips. "And I don't intend to fight a defensive war. If they want my empire, they can come and collect it right here."
Before Vance could respond, the security monitors mounted on the study wall suddenly flickered to life.
The cameras overlooking the estate's outer perimeter gate flashed bright red.
May you like
Headlights—dozens of them—cut through the heavy mountain fog down at the base of the private access road.
They had found us.
