CHAPTER 2: The Debt That Turns Into a War
CHAPTER 2: The Debt That Turns Into a War
Three hours later, the truth arrived.
Not in words.
In a bullet.
It hit the exterior glass of the ballroom’s west wing, exploding into a spiderweb fracture pattern that stopped the entire building cold.
No one saw the shooter.
But everyone felt the message.
Dominic moved instantly, pulling Margaret behind reinforced cover.
“Down!” he barked.
Grace was shoved to the floor by one of the guards.
Her ears rang.
Her breathing broke into fragments.
“This isn’t a warning,” one of Dominic’s men said.
“It’s escalation.”
Later, in a secured suite above the ballroom, Dominic stood alone with the city lights behind him.
Grace was brought in—still shaken, still confused.
“You need to leave Chicago,” he said.
She blinked. “What?”
“This isn’t your world.”
“I didn’t ask for your world,” she shot back.
A pause.
Then Dominic turned slightly.
“No,” he admitted. “But you stepped into it anyway.”
Margaret interrupted from the couch.
“She saved my life twice,” she said calmly. “And now you’re trying to erase her from the consequences?”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“I’m trying to keep her alive.”
“And I am telling you,” Margaret replied, “you don’t get to decide who belongs in your war.”
That night, Grace received a folder.
Inside: surveillance photos.
Of her apartment.
Her brother Noah’s school.
Her mother’s hospital wing.
All dated after the chandelier fell.
Her hands started shaking.
“They’re watching us,” she whispered.
May you like
Dominic nodded once.
“Yes.”
