Chapter 3 - THE COST OF BROTHERHOODThe realization hit Dominic like a physical blow to the solar plexus.
He stepped back,
his hand reflexively moving toward the holster at his hip.
He looked out the window and saw his guards—men he had bled with,
men he had paid for years—standing in a circle around the SUVs.
They weren't looking for threats;
they were waiting for an order from Nathan.
He had been so focused on the enemies outside his gates that he had ignored the rot eating away at the foundation of his empire.
He turned and walked out of the room,
leaving Claire to her vanity,
and headed back down to the great hall.
Nathan was waiting for him at the base of the stairs,
the handgun he usually kept concealed now held loosely at his side.
"I didn't want it to happen like this,
Dom,"
Nathan said,
his voice devoid of the warmth that had defined their friendship for seventeen years.
"I really didn't."
"But you’ve gotten soft."
"You care too much about the help."
"You care too much about the legacy."
"The world is changing,"
"and you're still playing by rules that were written in the nineties."
Dominic stood on the landing,
looking down at the man who had once pulled him from a burning car.
"You killed my wife,
didn't you?"
Dominic asked,
the question coming from a dark,
dusty corner of his mind that he had long suppressed.
Nathan didn't look away.
"She was a distraction,
Dom."
"She was making you weak."
"Just like Mia was."
"I thought you’d learn after the first time."
"But then you went and fell for a maid’s daughter’s eyes."
The rage that had been boiling now became a cold,
focused stream of ice.
Dominic didn't feel fear.
He felt a strange sense of clarity.
He had been surrounded by ghosts for years,
and now,
the living were finally showing their true faces.
"You think these men will follow you?"
Dominic asked,
gesturing toward the windows.
"They follow the money,"
Nathan replied.
"And I’m the one who’s been signing their checks for the last six months while you were 'meditating' on your grief."
"I have the codes."
"I have the contacts."
"You’re just a name on a piece of stationery now."
Dominic reached into his pocket and pulled out a small,
silver bird pendant—the one he had taken from Mia in the cellar.
It belonged to Harper.
Mia had been clutching it like a talisman while she was dying in the dark.
"You underestimated one thing,
Nathan,"
Dominic said,
his voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to fill the entire hall.
"You think I'm soft because I care."
"But the truth is,"
"I care because I'm the only one here who knows exactly what it costs to destroy everything."
Suddenly,
the lights in the house flickered and died.
The backup generators,
which Nathan should have controlled,
remained silent.
Dominic had spent his week in Atlantic City not just meeting with associates,
but setting up a secondary,
encrypted network that Nathan couldn't touch.
He had known something was wrong for months.
He just hadn't known how deep the betrayal went until a four-year-old girl pulled on his sleeve.
"Daniel!
Marcus!"
Nathan shouted into the darkness.
May you like
But there was no answer.
Only the sound of the wind howling against the Hudson Valley stone.
