Chapter 9 - THE LAST ENEMY
Dominic did not propose.
Not that night.
Not the next week.
Isla began wondering whether she had imagined the ring.
Then Carter disappeared.
His phone went offline at 7:42 on a Friday evening.
By eight, Dominic had every security team searching.
At 8:19, a package arrived.
Inside was Carter’s watch.
And a photograph.
Carter sat tied to a chair.
Behind him stood an elderly man.
Dominic recognized him instantly.
Victor Cole.
Nathan’s father.
The physician everyone believed had died nine years earlier.
Dominic sat down.
Isla had never seen him look like that.
“He killed my mother.”
Victor Cole had falsified her time of death.
Helped Dominic’s father conceal the murder.
Raised Nathan inside the conspiracy.
And apparently staged his own death.
A note accompanied the photograph.
MIDNIGHT. COME WITH ELIAS.
Elias was still under federal supervision, but Sloan authorized a controlled operation.
Dominic objected to Isla being anywhere near it.
For once, she agreed.
“I’ll stay with Marco.”
He looked almost suspicious.
“What?”
“I’m capable of learning.”
Dominic pulled her close.
“If something happens—”
“No.”
“Isla.”
“You’re coming home.”
He touched his forehead to hers.
“I love you.”
It was the first time he had said it.
Her heart stopped.
Dominic seemed surprised by his own words.
Isla smiled through sudden tears.
“That was terrible timing.”
“I know.”
“I love you too.”
He kissed her.
Then left.
Midnight arrived.
No call.
12:30.
Nothing.
1:10.
Isla paced.
At 1:17, her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Dominic?”
Victor Cole’s voice replied.
“He chose you over his empire.”
Her blood went cold.
“What do you want?”
“To understand why.”
“Where is Dominic?”
“Alive.”
“Carter?”
“For now.”
Isla forced herself to breathe.
Victor continued.
“Dominic’s father believed love was a liability. So did I. Yet somehow every Ashford man eventually becomes foolish over a woman.”
“You murdered his mother.”
“She threatened everything we built.”
“No. She threatened everything you stole.”
Silence.
Isla understood suddenly.
Victor wanted anger.
He wanted her frightened.
He wanted control.
She gave him none.
“You called because something went wrong.”
Another silence.
“You expected Dominic and Elias to turn on each other.”
Victor’s breathing changed.
“They didn’t.”
“You spent decades keeping them apart because together they could expose you.”
“You’re very clever.”
“No. You’re just predictable.”
The call disconnected.
Isla immediately called Sloan.
They traced the connection.
An abandoned private medical facility outside Chicago.
Dominic had already reached it.
Victor’s trap had failed because Elias did something Victor never anticipated.
He stepped in front of a bullet meant for Dominic.
The wound struck his shoulder.
Nonfatal.
But it ended fourteen years of doubt in a single second.
Carter freed himself during the confusion.
Victor attempted to escape through a service tunnel.
Federal agents caught him before sunrise.
When Dominic returned at 6:14, Isla was waiting.
He entered covered in dust and dried blood.
She ran to him.
“Not mine,” he said immediately.
“Elias?”
“Hospital. He’ll live.”
“Carter?”
“Complaining.”
“So normal.”
“Unfortunately.”
She wrapped her arms around Dominic.
For a long time, neither moved.
The war that had begun when Dominic was thirteen was finally over.
Victor Cole confessed after Nathan agreed to testify against him.
The complete story emerged.
Dominic’s mother, Evelyn Ashford, had discovered that her husband and Victor were laundering millions through medical charities and shipping contracts.
She planned to expose them.
Dominic’s father ordered her killed.
Victor arranged it.
Elias discovered fragments of the truth years later but believed Dominic had inherited their father’s secrets willingly.
Nathan fed that belief.
Brother against brother.
Ashford against Ashford.
A war built on a lie.
Six months later, Victor Cole was sentenced to spend the rest of his life in federal prison.
Nathan received a lengthy sentence after pleading guilty.
Elias, after cooperation and restitution, faced punishment for his own crimes but began rebuilding his relationship with Dominic.
Carter returned to work with his arm in a sling and an even worse attitude.
Marco entered eighth grade.
Isla began graduate school while continuing part-time trauma work.
And Dominic learned to sleep.
Not perfectly.
Some nights he still woke at 11:17.
But he no longer woke alone.
One Sunday morning, Isla opened her eyes and found him watching her.
“That’s creepy.”
“I was being romantic.”
“You were staring.”
“Romantically.”
She laughed.
Sunlight filled the bedroom.
No armed guards outside.
No monitors.
No bullets.
Just quiet.
Dominic reached into the nightstand.
Isla immediately sat up.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“That’s the ring.”
“You saw it?”
“Months ago.”
Dominic looked offended.
“I was discreet.”
“You were holding a velvet box on a brightly lit balcony.”
“That explains Carter laughing.”
He moved out of bed.
Isla covered her mouth.
“Dominic.”
For once, the man feared across Chicago looked genuinely terrified.
He knelt.
“The first night I met you, I offered you money because I thought everything had a price.”
Her eyes filled.
“You stayed after the money stopped.”
He opened the box.
Inside was a simple diamond ring.
Elegant.
Nothing excessive.
“You taught me that trust isn’t surrender. That loving someone doesn’t make you weak.”
His voice caught.
“And that apparently gunshot wounds are not a medical argument.”
Isla laughed through tears.
“So, Isla Monroe, will you—”
“Yes.”
He blinked.
“I hadn’t finished.”
“You take too long.”
“Isla.”
“Yes, Dominic.”
He stood and kissed her.
Then the bedroom door flew open.
Marco charged inside.
“DID SHE SAY YES?”
Isla stared at him.
Dominic stared at him.
Marco froze.
“You knew?”
Dominic asked.
Marco slowly backed away.
“Carter told me nothing.”
“Marco.”
“Congratulations!”
He ran.
Dominic looked at Isla.
“Your brother is terrible at lying.”
“Our brother.”
The words came naturally.
Dominic became very still.
Then he smiled.
May you like
“Our brother.”
And for a man who had spent most of his life believing family was simply another word for vulnerability, those two words meant almost as much as yes.
