Chapter 8 - THE ASHES OF THE EMPIRE
In the weeks that followed, Dominic purged his empire with ruthless efficiency. He dismantled Marcus’s network, executed the corrupt officials on his payroll who had conspired against him, and completely restructured his organization. He sold off the illegal arms routes and the drug pipelines, focusing entirely on the legitimate fronts—real estate, shipping, and casinos.
He was done with the underworld that required him to sleep with one eye open. The betrayal of Marcus and Serena had burned the last bridge connecting him to his father’s bloody legacy.
He sat in his office, the same office where a little girl in a yellow dress had changed the course of his life. The desk was clear of illegal ledgers. The hidden compartments were empty.
Tony walked in, looking older but relieved. “The final offshore accounts have been transferred, boss. The legitimate shell companies are secure. We’re clean. Well, as clean as guys like us get.”
“Good,” Dominic said, staring out the window at the sprawling, manicured lawns.
“What now, Dom?” Tony asked gently. “You’ve burned the old world down. What are you going to build in its place?”
Dominic turned around, a faint, genuine smile touching his lips for the first time in months.
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“A life, Tony. Just a life.”
He walked over to his desk, but this time, he didn't reach underneath it for a weapon or a bug. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a small, brightly colored drawing. It was a crayon sketch of a big house, a little girl in a yellow dress, and a tall man with a dark suit.
