Chapter 5 - The Glass Fortress
The compound was an architectural marvel designed to keep the world out. Perimeter laser grids, biometrically locked gates, and private security guards armed with German submachine guns patrolled the grounds.
Unfortunately for Marcus, Viktor had spent twenty years bypassing security grids far more sophisticated than this.
Within minutes of our arrival, Viktor’s tactical team disabled the compound’s power grid, plunging the estate into sudden darkness before flashing tactical strobes blinded the guards at the main gate. There was no prolonged gunfight—just the swift, overwhelming demonstration of a superior force shutting down every exit.
I stepped out of the lead van, my boots crunching over the gravel, and walked up the wide stone steps leading to the massive glass front doors. They stood unlocked, pushed open from the inside.
Marcus Vale was waiting for me in the center of the grand living room.
He wore a bespoke Italian suit, a crystal glass of scotch in his hand, though a slight tremor in his fingers betrayed his outward composure. He looked up as I stepped across the threshold, flanked by Viktor and two heavily armed enforcers.
“Dominic,” Marcus said smoothly, taking a slow sip. “I must admit, I didn't expect you to track me down quite this fast. I thought you’d still be busy drowning your sorrows in Manhattan.”
I walked toward him slowly, my face carved from absolute ice. Every step felt like walking over the graves of the last fourteen months.
“You killed my wife, Marcus,” I said, my voice dangerously soft, vibrating with a lethal containment that terrified even the men standing behind me.
Marcus sighed, swirling the amber liquid in his crystal glass. “Isabella was brilliant, Dominic, but she was a romantic. She thought morality could coexist with a criminal empire. She threatened to tear down everything we built over a few misplaced ledger entries. I had no choice.”
“You had a choice,” I snarled, closing the distance until I was standing an inch away from him. “You could have resigned. You could have taken your millions and walked away. But you chose to murder the mother of my children.”
“And I framed the Mendozas so efficiently you wiped them out for me,” Marcus chuckled, a cold, arrogant smirk touching his lips. “A masterclass in crisis management, if I do say so myself. What are you going to do, Dominic? Shoot me? You’ll spend the rest of your life in a Swiss black site.”
Before Marcus could finish his sentence, I struck him across the face with the heavy butt of my pistol, sending him crashing backward over a glass coffee table. Shards of crystal and amber scotch shattered across the white marble floor as Marcus groaned, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the pristine rug.
I stood over him, pressing the cold barrel of my gun directly between his eyes.
“I’m not going to shoot you, Marcus,” I whispered, my voice dead and absolute. “Shooting you is too easy. You’re going to come back to New York with us. You’re going to sit in a federal courtroom, confess to every crime you committed, and tell my daughter the truth with your own mouth.”
Marcus stared up at the barrel of the gun, the arrogant smirk finally shattering into sheer, abject terror.
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“You... you can't,” he stammered, blood trickling down his chin. “The federal indictments—they’ll implicate you too, Dominic! You’ll go down with me!”
“Let the empire burn,” I replied, stepping back and nodding to Viktor. “Cuff him.”
