13. Dominic #3
When he speaks, his voice is tight, like he’s trying to keep it together. “And I... I had lunch with him. Invited him into my office. Sat across from him like he was someone I could trust. I listened to his political plans. Tried to guide him. Tried to be a mentor.”
He swallows hard, eyes locked on the screen. “I shook his hand. I let him near my family. Near my staff, near my daughter. I let that man into spaces that should’ve been safe.”
He lets out a breath, sharp and ragged. “I thought he was just arrogant. God help me. I believed I could shape him into something better.”
He doesn’t move at first. Then his fists close, quiet and controlled.
“This isn’t about politics anymore. I can’t undo the past. But I’ll end this myself. I want him ruined. And I’ll stand with you both until it’s done.”
He rises from the chair slowly. Every movement feels weighted, like the years of his office have finally settled into his body. He turns to Lena and inclines his head. Not out of formality. Something closer to recognition. Acceptance and respect.
“Thank you for showing me this. I know what it cost you.”
Lena doesn’t smile. She just picks up the laptop and hugs it to her chest again, like a shield.
“Give me one week, Mrs. Monti. You’ll know when it’s time to go to the police.”
“There’s one more thing,” Lena says. “One of the accountants from City Hall gave me documents, contracts that Anton arranged, fake transfers. A mess. They might help clear your name, if you’re as innocent as you say.”
“What I’ve seen today... I can’t call myself innocent,” the mayor says quietly. “But those transfers... My family, my brother… they shouldn’t pay for what they didn’t do. I’ll deal with that. After.” “After what?” Lena asks.
He meets her eyes. “After Anton pays. Not with money, with his freedom. Fully. With the weight of every life he wrecked.”
Then he turns to me. “Dominic, thank you for trusting me. If I thought you’d say yes, I’d ask you to run for mayor. I’d back you without hesitation. This city needs someone like you. Everyone respects you.”
“I’m honored,” I say. “But now that I’m married, I promised my beautiful wife more family time. And we’re hoping for two, or maybe three kids. I’ve got plenty on my plate.”
The mayor tries to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His jaw tightens slightly, like he’s still processing everything. Then he steps forward and pulls me into a firm embrace. Short, but full of meaning.
He turns to Lena. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice low. “For not seeing it. For not stopping it.”
He meets her eyes. Lena doesn’t look away. She nods once, then steps into his arms.
When they part, the mayor inclines his head to her, deeper this time. A gesture of respect. Maybe even an apology. Then he turns and walks out, slower than before, shoulders set. He’s not walking away. He’s walking toward something. Toward what has to be done.
Lena squeezes my arm, hard. “What was that?” she snaps. “You’re not seriously going to start telling people we want three kids, right?”
She’s sarcastic. A little sharp. But I don’t take the bait. This is not the time for jokes. Not when I’m still reeling from what I saw on her laptop. From how close she’s been to real danger, all this time.
“What are you doing with that file? How could you put yourself at risk like this? You’re not going anywhere alone this week. Not until Damien gets that file.”
Before she can argue, I grab her phone off the table. “I’m installing a location tracker.”
“My tech friend will remove it in seconds. I’m not worried. Anton’s not stupid. He won’t do anything.”
“No, he’s not stupid. He’s desperate. And with the mayor on his back, he knows the end is coming. That’s what scares me. What he might do once he realizes he’s finished.”
She glares at me, stunned for a second. Then fury flashes across her face. It’s not just anger. It’s pain. And I’ve stepped on something I don’t fully understand.
“I’m not your property. And I don’t even know if I trust either of you right now. You don’t know me. You don’t know my life. Just leave me alone.”
Her words stop me cold. My chest tightens, a dull pressure that spreads. And then it clicks.
“Lena…” I catch her wrist as she turns away. “Lena, did Anton ever… to you?”
She freezes. There’s something in her eyes. Not fear or shame. A storm, barely contained.
I loosen my grip. I don’t want to hold her like this.
Not if it hurts. I wait for a word, a breath, anything.
But all she gives me are eyes full of fire, and something like grief.
Finally, her lashes glisten, but she doesn’t blink.
“For anything he dared do to me,” she says, voice low and cold, “he’s already paid, with pain. In ways he won’t forget.”
She pulls her arm free.
“But for the other victims… I’m still fighting. I have to give them justice.”
“Lena… what do you mean, other victims? Other? You?”
She steps back, and in her eyes, pain and fury collide.
“I’m not a victim.”
What comes out of her isn’t a scream. It’s a roar. Fierce, raw, refusing to break. Her mouth twists, half rage, half grief. Then she turns and bolts.
“Lena, don’t run from me!” I shout after her, my voice breaking.
I leap to my feet and rush after her. But I’m too late. By the time I reach the doorway, the hallway’s empty. She’s gone. And with every step she took, I felt her slipping further out of my life.
The anger rises in me. If he laid a hand on her. He won’t get another chance.