Chapter 13 - An Open Horizon
Three months later.
Spring had finally arrived at Blackthorne House, melting the winter snow into rushing streams and turning the sprawling gardens along the Hudson into a vivid expanse of green and blooming dogwood.
I stood on the wide stone terrace overlooking the river, dressed in dark tailored trousers and a cream silk blouse, holding a cup of black tea. The scars on my shoulder and ribs were permanent reminders of the night everything changed, but the pain was gone.
Down on the manicured lawn, Caleb was running with a German Shepherd puppy Dominic had bought him for his seventh birthday, his laughter echoing across the water.
Heavy footsteps clicked against the stone behind me.
Dominic walked out onto the terrace, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he leaned against the balustrade beside me. He didn't say a word at first. He just looked out over his empire, then turned his gaze to me, reaching out to wrap his arm around my waist, pulling me firmly against his side.
I rested my head against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of sandalwood and rain.
"Nolan just finished the debrief on the European consortium," Dominic murmured, his fingers tracing a lazy circle against my hip. "The territory is stable. The syndicates have accepted the new terms."
"And the Vance assets?" I asked quietly.
"Liquidated into a blind trust for Caleb's foundation," Dominic replied. "Every dirty cent has been turned into schools and hospitals. Just like you wanted."
I smiled, feeling a peace I hadn't known since I was a child. For the first time in my life, I wasn't looking over my shoulder. I wasn't waiting for the door to be kicked down.
Then, Dominic's phone chimed.
A private satellite ping. One that bypassed all standard estate firewalls.
Dominic frowned, pulling the encrypted phone from his pocket.
On the screen was an image that made the blood freeze in my veins.
It was a live photograph taken thirty seconds ago—from the woods just beyond the estate's iron gates. In the photo, standing beneath the shade of the budding trees, was a woman dressed in a tailored crimson coat, holding a pair of binoculars aimed directly at the terrace where Dominic and I stood.
Beneath the image was a single line of text from an untraceable Russian server:
*Lucian was only the hound, little sister. Did you really think our mother died twenty years ago? The real board has just been set. Sleep with one eye open.*
Dominic’s jaw hardened into granite. His grip on my waist tightened until it bruised.
Down on the lawn, Caleb waved up at us, his puppy barking playfully at a butterfly, completely unaware of the shadow falling across the tree line once again.
I stared at the photograph, my breath catching in my throat, the phantom ache of three bullet wounds throbbing deep in my ribs.
"Dominic," I whispered.
Dominic slid the phone back into his pocket, his eyes turning to the dark woods at the perimeter, cold, lethal, and unyielding.
May you like
He reached down, taking my hand in his, his thumb stroking my knuckles as he raised his other hand to signal Nolan’s perimeter snipers.
"Let them come," Dominic Mercer whispered into the wind. "This time, we hunt together."
