Chapter 8 - Dominic Chose Her Over His EmpireThe church had been abandoned for fourteen years.
Broken stained glass covered the floor.
Rain entered through holes in the roof.
Sadi stepped through the doors at exactly midnight.
Alone.
Apparently.
She wore black tactical clothing beneath a long coat.
No visible weapon.
Varga stood near the altar.
He looked exactly as he had in the airport photograph.
Silver hair.
Gray suit.
Calm eyes.
“Cassandra.”
Sadi stopped thirty feet away.
“Elias.”
He smiled.
“You look healthy.”
“You look old.”
His smile widened.
“I missed that.”
“Where is Gideon?”
“Alive.”
“For now?”
“Everything is temporary.”
Two armed men emerged from the shadows.
Then two more.
Sadi counted.
Four visible.
Probably eight total.
“Database,” Varga said.
“Gideon.”
“Database first.”
“You trained me better than that.”
Pride flickered in his eyes.
“Yes.”
That was the tragedy.
Some part of him genuinely believed he had made her.
“You were my finest student.”
“I was your prisoner.”
“You were extraordinary before I found you. I merely gave you purpose.”
“You gave me targets.”
“I gave you power.”
“You gave me nightmares.”
Varga’s smile disappeared.
“Russo made you sentimental.”
“No.”
Sadi looked toward the altar.
“He reminded me sentiment isn’t weakness.”
Varga laughed.
“A gangster taught you morality?”
“No.”
Her eyes hardened.
“He taught me choice.”
Varga stared.
Then applauded slowly.
“Beautiful.”
A side door opened.
Gideon was dragged forward.
His face was bruised.
His hands were bound.
But he was alive.
“Sadi,” he said.
“Hello, Gideon.”
“You look terrible.”
“So do you.”
“Nice to know marriage hasn’t damaged your personality.”
Varga looked annoyed.
“Enough.”
Sadi held up a small drive.
“The database.”
Varga’s eyes fixed on it.
“Original?”
“Yes.”
“Copies?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“You’re lying.”
“Obviously.”
Varga laughed.
“There she is.”
He extended his hand.
Sadi tossed the drive.
One of his men caught it.
Varga inserted it into a laptop.
Files appeared.
His expression changed.
For the first time, genuine hunger entered his eyes.
Years of secrets.
Power.
Insurance.
His empire restored.
“Release Gideon.”
Varga looked up.
“No.”
Sadi had expected that.
“Then we have a problem.”
“No, Cassandra.”
He smiled.
“You have a problem.”
The armed men raised their weapons.
Varga continued.
“You made one catastrophic mistake.”
“What?”
“You fell in love.”
Sadi’s expression did not change.
But her heart struck once against her ribs.
Varga saw it.
“Oh.”
His smile became delighted.
“You didn’t know.”
Sadi remained silent.
“Fascinating.”
Varga stepped closer.
“The woman who understood every form of leverage failed to recognize the oldest one.”
He looked toward the darkness.
“Bring him out.”
Sadi’s blood froze.
A door opened behind the altar.
Dominic emerged.
His hands were raised.
A pistol pressed against his neck.
Sadi stared.
“You idiot.”
Dominic shrugged.
“I’ve been called worse.”
“You followed me.”
“Obviously.”
Varga laughed.
“Romantic.”
Sadi’s mind raced.
Four visible.
Two holding Gideon and Dominic.
Possibly more.
Varga near the laptop.
Distance.
Angles.
Exit routes.
Dominic looked at her.
His expression was calm.
Too calm.
Sadi knew that expression now.
He had a plan.
Varga moved beside Dominic.
“Your husband has offered something interesting.”
Sadi’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Varga smiled.
“His organization.”
Sadi looked at Dominic.
“He offered me access to his ports, casinos, political network, and financial infrastructure.”
Her face went blank.
“In exchange for what?”
Varga’s smile widened.
“You.”
Silence.
Sadi stared at Dominic.
The prisoner’s words returned.
Men like Russo always choose empires over women.
Dominic held her gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
Something inside Sadi collapsed.
Varga laughed softly.
“You see? Everyone has a price.”
Sadi looked down.
For one terrible second, she believed it.
Then she noticed Dominic’s left hand.
His wedding ring.
He was rotating it.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
A signal.
They had never established a signal.
But Sadi understood anyway.
Because Dominic’s white-gold band contained something Gideon had installed after the museum attack.
A miniature emergency transmitter.
Sadi raised her eyes.
Dominic winked.
Varga did not see.
Sadi almost smiled.
“You bastard,” she whispered.
Varga assumed she meant Dominic.
“I warned you.”
Sadi looked at him.
“No.”
Her entire posture changed.
“I was talking to my husband.”
Varga frowned.
The church windows exploded.
Dominic dropped.
Sadi moved.
Gunfire erupted.
Dominic’s men stormed through three entrances simultaneously.
Gideon drove his head backward into his captor’s nose.
Sadi crossed the distance to Varga.
He reached for his pistol.
Too slow.
She trapped his wrist.
Twisted.
The gun fell.
Varga struck her ribs.
Pain exploded through the old scar.
Sadi stumbled.
He attacked again.
She blocked.
For the first time in years, teacher and student fought.
Varga was older.
But experienced.
He knew her habits.
Her angles.
Her weaknesses.
He drove his elbow toward her damaged ribs.
Sadi barely avoided it.
“You still drop your left shoulder!” he shouted.
She changed stance.
He smiled.
“Better.”
Then Sadi realized something.
He expected the woman he had trained.
So she stopped fighting like her.
She abandoned precision.
Stepped inside his guard.
Head-butted him.
Varga reeled.
Sadi punched him in the throat.
He collapsed to one knee.
She kicked the weapon away.
Dominic appeared behind him.
Gun raised.
Varga looked up.
Dominic’s face contained murder.
“No,” Sadi said.
Dominic’s finger tightened on the trigger.
“He dies.”
“No.”
“He kidnapped Gideon.”
“I need answers.”
Dominic looked at her.
Then lowered the gun.
Varga laughed through bloody teeth.
“She owns you.”
Dominic smiled coldly.
“Yes.”
Sadi looked at him.
Dominic did not look embarrassed.
He looked almost proud.
Varga’s smile vanished.
Sirens approached.
Not police.
Federal agents.
Sadi stared at Dominic.
“You called the FBI?”
“Anonymous tip.”
“You hate federal agents.”
“I contain multitudes.”
Despite everything, she laughed.
Varga talked twelve hours later.
Not because Dominic tortured him.
Not because Sadi threatened him.
Because Sadi showed him what she had done to the database.
Every file had been encrypted with a rotating key.
Without Sadi, it was useless.
The man above Varga had a name.
Alexander Crane.
American.
Billionaire.
Defense contractor.
Political donor.
Public philanthropist.
Private architect of an international blackmail network.
Dominic stared at the photograph.
“I’ve met him.”
Sadi looked up.
“Where?”
“My father’s funeral.”
Her blood chilled.
The conspiracy was older than either of them had understood.
Crane had known Dominic’s father.
Had known Varga.
Had ordered the operation against Dominic’s mother.
And now Crane knew Sadi was alive.
Varga looked through the interrogation-room glass.
“He will kill everyone around you.”
Sadi stared back.
“No.”
May you like
She took Dominic’s hand.
“This time we go to him.”
