Chapter 6 - The Trap at Pier NinePier Nine had been abandoned for fifteen years.
At midnight it looked like the edge of the world.
Khloe walked into the warehouse carrying the ledger inside a leather bag.
Dominic was nowhere visible.
That was intentional.
Senator Richard Kensington stood beneath a hanging industrial light.
Beside him was Vincent Marchetti.
Dominic’s uncle.
Vivien stood farther back.
Dominic’s mother was tied to a chair.
“Khloe Bennett,” Kensington said. “You look remarkably like your father.”
“That isn't a compliment coming from you.”
He smiled.
“Still angry.”
“You murdered him.”
“He made an unfortunate decision.”
Khloe's fingers tightened around the bag.
“He told the truth.”
“Truth is simply information without power.”
Khloe looked at the dozen armed men surrounding her.
“You must be terrified of information, then.”
Vincent stepped forward.
“Give us the ledger.”
“Release Mrs. Costello.”
Kensington laughed.
“You believe you're negotiating?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you need what I have.”
She raised the bag.
“And because Dominic is listening.”
Kensington's smile disappeared.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Lights shattered.
Matteo’s team entered from both sides.
Khloe dropped.
Dominic appeared behind a shipping container.
Vincent grabbed Dominic’s mother.
Kensington seized Khloe.
A gun pressed against her ribs.
“Stop!”
Everything froze.
Kensington dragged her backward.
“Tell them to lower their weapons.”
Khloe stared at Dominic.
His face revealed nothing.
But she knew him now.
He was waiting.
So was she.
“Dominic.”
“Yes?”
“Do you trust me?”
Kensington laughed.
“What kind of question—”
Khloe drove her elbow backward.
Hard.
Kensington doubled over.
Dominic fired.
The bullet struck Kensington’s gun hand.
Matteo tackled Vincent.
Within seconds it was over.
Almost.
Sirens approached.
Federal vehicles surrounded the pier.
Kensington looked at Dominic in disbelief.
“You called the FBI?”
Dominic crouched beside him.
“No.”
Khloe did.
Agents flooded the warehouse.
Khloe smiled.
Kensington stared at her.
“You stupid woman. You think this makes you powerful?”
“No.”
She looked toward the federal agents taking the ledger.
“It makes you accountable.”
Vivien stood silently nearby.
An agent approached her.
“Vivien Kensington?”
She nodded.
“You're under arrest.”
Khloe watched fear spread across her face.
Then Vivien looked at her.
“I'm sorry.”
Khloe said nothing.
Some apologies arrived too late to become forgiveness.
But perhaps they could still become testimony.
Dominic’s mother was freed.
Vincent was arrested.
Kensington was taken away screaming threats.
For the first time in seven years, Khloe felt that her father’s death might finally mean something beyond grief.
Outside, dawn began breaking over Boston Harbor.
Dominic approached her.
“It’s over.”
“No.”
He frowned.
Khloe looked toward the city.
“Kensington isn't everything.”
She had studied the ledger.
There were Costello businesses listed too.
Dominic understood.
“You want me to dismantle them.”
“I want you to decide who you are when nobody is forcing you.”
He was silent.
“You protected me,” she continued. “You protected your family. But that doesn't erase what the Costellos built.”
“No.”
“If we do this—whatever this is—I won't spend my life waiting for the police to knock on our door.”
“Our?”
Khloe realized what she'd said.
Dominic smiled.
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
“Look pleased with yourself.”
“Impossible.”
She pushed his chest.
He caught her hand.
“I'll walk away.”
She stared at him.
“From all of it?”
“Illegal gambling. Port operations. Protection money. Everything.”
“Why?”
“Because my father lost twelve years to this life. My uncle died because of it. And I almost watched you die because of it.”
He paused.
“And because I want the word ‘our’ to mean something.”
Khloe's eyes filled.
She hated crying.
Dominic brushed away one tear.
“You're still annoying.”
“I've been called worse.”
“I know.”
She laughed.
Then he kissed her beneath the gray Boston dawn.
Neither noticed the black sedan parked two blocks away.
Inside sat a man watching through binoculars.
He took out his phone.
“Dominic survived.”
A voice answered.
“And the ledger?”
“Federal custody.”
Silence.
Then:
“Kill the Bennett woman.”
The man looked toward Khloe.
May you like
“When?”
“Before she testifies.”
