Chapter 7 - The Father Who Came Back From the Dead
Dominic returned to the penthouse twelve days later.
This time, the elevator doors did not feel like safety.
They felt like a cage waiting to close.
Abigail noticed him staring at them.
“You don’t have to stay here.”
“This is my home.”
“Is it?”
The question irritated him because it was true.
Every room contained five years of fear.
He looked around.
“What are you suggesting?”
“Go somewhere else.”
“Where?”
Abigail shrugged.
“Coffee.”
Dominic stared at her.
“You want me to leave a fortified penthouse during a security crisis for coffee?”
“Yes.”
“That may be the worst tactical plan I’ve ever heard.”
“But?”
Twenty minutes later, Dominic Russo entered a small café near the river with four discreet guards outside.
People laughed.
Cups clattered.
An espresso machine hissed.
Nothing exploded.
Dominic sat near the exit.
Abigail did not comment.
He ordered black coffee.
She ordered something involving caramel that he described as “dessert pretending to be coffee.”
She smiled.
And for forty minutes, Dominic was simply a man sitting with a woman.
Then Tommy called.
They had found Alessandro.
More importantly, federal authorities had enough evidence for warrants.
Dominic refused to participate in a private execution.
He handed over financial records capable of dismantling much of his father’s criminal network.
It was the most dangerous decision he had ever made.
Old Russo captains called it betrayal.
Dominic called it ending an inheritance.
Alessandro responded publicly.
A video arrived that evening.
Dominic’s father appeared seated in darkness.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
“You shame your brother by crawling to the government,” Alessandro said.
Dominic watched without blinking.
“You shame our blood for a woman who will leave you the moment she understands what you are.”
Abigail stood beside him.
The video continued.
“You have until midnight tomorrow to withdraw your cooperation. Otherwise, I finish what I began beneath Lower Wacker.”
The screen went black.
Dominic immediately ordered Abigail moved to a secure property.
She refused.
“I’m not being hidden again.”
“This isn’t Evan.”
“I know.”
“My father has killed people.”
“So have you.”
The words struck him.
Abigail regretted them immediately.
But Dominic only nodded.
“Yes.”
She stepped closer.
“That’s why this matters. You’re choosing something different now.”
“He’ll use you against me.”
“Then don’t make me your weakness.”
His gaze met hers.
“What are you?”
Abigail’s heart hammered.
“Someone standing beside you because I choose to.”
For once, Dominic had no answer.
The next morning, they went together to meet federal investigators.
Dominic walked from the SUV into the federal building.
No panic attack.
No retreat.
His cane struck stone with steady rhythm.
Five years earlier, men had carried him from a burning vehicle.
Now he entered on his own feet.
He gave investigators everything.
Names.
Accounts.
Warehouses.
Officials.
Then an agent slid a document toward him.
“We found this in your father’s files.”
It was Leo’s handwritten letter.
Dominic recognized the handwriting instantly.
Dom, if you ever read this, I probably failed to tell you myself.
He stopped.
Abigail touched nothing.
She simply remained beside him.
Dominic continued reading.
Leo had discovered their father was alive.
He had planned to tell Dominic after securing enough evidence to ensure Alessandro could never retaliate.
The final lines shattered something inside Dominic.
You always think protecting people means standing in front of every bullet. Sometimes it means walking away from the gun.
We don’t owe our father our lives just because he gave us his name.
Dominic closed his eyes.
For five years, he had dreamed of Leo’s final seconds.
Now, for the first time, he heard his brother’s voice without the explosion.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
Dominic answered.
Alessandro.
“You read his letter?”
Dominic’s blood chilled.
“How do you know?”
A pause.
Then Alessandro laughed.
“You still have a traitor beside you.”
The call ended.
Dominic looked around the federal conference room.
Agents.
Attorneys.
Tommy.
Abigail.
Someone had told Alessandro about the letter.
Before Dominic could speak, an explosion shook the parking structure below.
Alarms screamed.
Agents rushed toward the windows.
Tommy grabbed Dominic.
“Move!”
Smoke rose outside.
Then the lights flickered.
Dominic turned.
Abigail was gone.
On the table where she had been standing lay her hospital identification badge.
May you like
And beneath it, written in fresh black ink, were four words.
Trade yourself for her.
