Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT DOMINIC STOOD UP
The first time Dominic Carter stood without another person holding his weight, he didn't feel powerful.
He felt terrified.
His legs trembled.
His hands gripped the parallel bars.
Sweat ran down his neck.
And Marcus Reed stood beside him, watching every movement.
"Don't rush."
Dominic clenched his jaw.
"I'm not."
"You're trying to."
Dominic breathed slowly.
One second.
Two.
Three.
His knees began to buckle.
Marcus helped him lower safely onto the supported seat.
Dominic slammed his palm against the bar.
"Damn it!"
Marcus crouched beside him.
"Look at me."
Dominic glared.
"You stood with support for nearly twenty seconds."
"So?"
"So last month, you couldn't do that."
Dominic looked away.
Marcus smiled.
"Progress isn't always dramatic."
From the doorway, Faith whispered, "It is to me."
Dominic turned.
She stood holding two coffees.
Her eyes were shining.
He laughed softly.
"Don't start crying."
"Too late."
Eli Willis had returned home two days earlier.
He was bruised, exhausted, and frightened, but alive.
Faith had hugged him so tightly he'd complained he couldn't breathe.
Dominic had watched from the doorway.
Something in his chest had ached.
Not from jealousy.
From longing.
He had spent years surrounded by people who feared him.
He'd forgotten what it looked like when someone was simply happy another person had survived.
Eli later approached him privately.
"Mr. Carter?"
"Dominic."
Eli nodded.
"Thank you for helping my sister."
Dominic looked at him.
"She helped me first."
Eli smiled.
"Yeah. That's Faith."
Then his expression grew serious.
"There's something I didn't tell the police."
Dominic straightened.
"What?"
"One of the men guarding me kept talking about a shipment."
"What shipment?"
"Medical equipment. Or that's what the paperwork said."
Dominic frowned.
"Where?"
"The south docks."
Eli hesitated.
"And I heard a name."
"Who?"
"Frank DeLuca."
Dominic's face darkened.
Investigators had already begun connecting Anthony's companies to a network of fraudulent contracts and smuggling operations.
Frank DeLuca's apparent death had been staged years earlier.
He had been living under another identity, directing financial operations through shell companies while Anthony managed the visible businesses.
Dominic's father's notebook provided an early trail of suspicious transactions.
The newer financial audit showed similar patterns.
Together, they suggested a conspiracy stretching across two decades.
But proving the connection to Dominic's accident would require more.
Dominic's attorney met him in the library.
"We need you to understand something."
Dominic nodded.
"Go ahead."
"If you cooperate fully, investigators may examine your own businesses."
"I know."
"That could expose past crimes."
Dominic stared at the desk.
For years, he'd justified his operations as necessary.
He told himself he was protecting his father's legacy.
Protecting employees.
Protecting the waterfront.
But somewhere along the way, protection had become control.
And control had become cruelty.
He thought of Faith.
Her bruised wrist.
Her brother's terrified face.
The staff who flinched whenever he raised his voice.
He had spent years creating the kind of world that made those things possible.
"Then they investigate," he said.
His attorney blinked.
"Dominic."
"I won't pretend I've been innocent."
"That decision could cost you."
Dominic looked toward the garden.
"I know."
That evening, Dominic found Faith in the conservatory.
She was watering a row of orchids.
He watched her for a moment.
Then said, "I'm going to cooperate with the investigation."
Faith turned.
"Fully?"
He nodded.
"Even if it means losing some of the businesses."
She set down the watering can.
"Are you sure?"
"No."
He laughed softly.
"But I'm doing it anyway."
Faith approached.
"Why?"
Dominic took her hand.
"Because I want a future I don't have to hide from."
Her eyes filled.
He smiled.
"And because I'm tired of being someone you have to defend."
Faith shook her head.
"You don't have to become perfect for me."
"I know."
He kissed her hand.
"But I do have to become better for myself."
Two nights later, the mansion lost power.
Every light went dark.
The security system switched to backup.
Dominic was in his bedroom when the alarm sounded.
Faith rushed in.
"Dominic!"
He turned.
"What happened?"
"Someone cut the electricity."
His phone vibrated.
A message from the security team.
UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLE AT NORTH GATE.
Dominic's expression hardened.
"Stay away from the windows."
Faith nodded.
Outside, engines roared.
Then came the sound of breaking glass.
A guard shouted.
Dominic reached for his phone.
"Call the police."
Faith dialed.
Suddenly, the bedroom door slammed open.
A man in a black jacket stood in the doorway.
He raised a weapon.
Faith froze.
Dominic moved instantly.
He shoved his wheelchair sideways, knocking a heavy floor lamp into the man's path.
The attacker stumbled.
Faith ducked behind the bed.
A gunshot cracked through the room.
Glass shattered.
Dominic grabbed Faith's wrist and pulled her toward the adjoining bathroom.
"Go!"
She stumbled inside.
He slammed the door and locked it.
The attacker struck the wood.
Once.
Twice.
Faith was crying.
"Dominic!"
He positioned his wheelchair against the door.
"Stay behind me."
Another impact shook the frame.
Then footsteps thundered through the bedroom.
A guard shouted.
"Drop it!"
A struggle followed.
Then silence.
Minutes later, police secured the house.
The attacker had been arrested.
Nobody inside the mansion had been killed.
Dominic sat in the hallway while paramedics checked Faith for injuries.
She was physically unharmed.
But her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Dominic reached for her.
"Come here."
She knelt beside him.
He wrapped his arms around her.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Faith whispered, "I thought I was going to lose you."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"You didn't."
She pulled back.
"Promise me something."
"Anything."
"Don't ever make me watch you throw your life away for revenge."
Dominic nodded.
"I won't."
The next morning, Dominic returned to rehabilitation.
He was exhausted.
His shoulder ached from bracing against the bathroom door.
Marcus suggested postponing the session.
Dominic refused.
"Just one attempt."
Marcus studied him.
"Only if you're medically cleared."
After Rebecca confirmed it was safe, Marcus helped him into position.
Dominic gripped the parallel bars.
His legs trembled.
He breathed slowly.
Then he pushed upward.
His hips rose.
His knees held.
For one impossible moment, he was upright with his weight supported through the bars and braces.
Marcus remained close, ready to help.
Faith stood at the doorway.
Dominic looked at her.
She covered her mouth.
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
He smiled.
"Faith."
She stepped closer.
"Yes?"
"Look at me."
"I'm looking."
His voice broke.
"I'm standing."
Faith began crying harder.
And Dominic Carter, the man who had once believed his life was over, laughed through tears he no longer cared to hide.
But before anyone could celebrate, Rebecca's phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Then turned toward Dominic.
Her face had gone pale.
"Anthony DeLuca has escaped custody during a transfer."
Dominic's smile vanished.
May you like
Rebecca swallowed.
"And police believe he's heading toward the mansion."
