Chapter 19
The luxury hotel was a masterpiece of modern design, bathed in warm, golden lighting. Dominic did not bring an assault team. He arrived in a single black SUV, accompanied only by Tony. He walked through the elegant lobby, his imposing, deeply masculine presence parting the wealthy guests like the Red Sea.
They took the private elevator to the penthouse level.
Dominic did not knock. Tony kicked the heavy door inward, shattering the electronic lock.
Inside the suite, a young, fair-skinned man in expensive casual wear scrambled away from a bank of glowing laptops. He reached for a sidearm resting on a glass table.
Dominic moved with explosive, blinding speed. He crossed the room, grabbed the man by the throat, and slammed him brutally against the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. The glass shuddered under the impact.
"Who hired you?" Dominic whispered, his raspy voice vibrating with absolute, terrifying menace.
"I don't know!" the hacker choked, his rosy skin turning purple as Dominic’s tattooed fingers crushed his airway. "It was anonymous! Through the dark web!"
"Lie to me again," Dominic said softly, pulling his suppressed pistol and pressing the hot barrel directly against the man's kneecap, "and you will never walk."
"Okay! Okay!" the hacker shrieked in sheer terror. "It was Arthur Sinclair! He paid me three million to compile the routing numbers and forward them to the FBI! He wanted to cripple your logistics so the union bosses could launch a hostile takeover of the ports!"
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Dominic stared into the man's panicked eyes. The confirmation was all he needed. Arthur Sinclair had not just insulted the Falcone bloodline; he had attempted to dismantle the empire using federal weapons. It was an act of war that demanded absolute annihilation.
"Tony," Dominic commanded, turning away from the trembling hacker. "Sanitize his equipment. Erase his existence."
