Chapter 4 - The Quiet Estate
The black sedan slid smoothly through the iron gates of the Rainer estate, located on a private peninsula overlooking the Chesapeake Bay.
The house was a sprawling masterpiece of stone and glass, surrounded by towering oak trees and lit by subtle architectural lighting. There were no flashing neon signs, no gated security guards waving frantic salutes—just quiet, absolute power manifested in brick, steel, and timber.
When the car stopped, Dominic was waiting by the front entrance.
He wore a dark charcoal overcoat over his suit, his silver-threaded tie neatly knotted, his dark hair brushed back from a face carved from granite. When Grace stepped out of the car, he didn't wait for the driver to open her door. He crossed the gravel in two long strides, catching her in his arms.
He pulled her against his chest, his hands sliding up to cup her face, his thumb gently brushing a stray drop of dried soda from her cheek.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice low, intense, and vibrating with controlled fury.
“I’m not hurt, Dominic,” Grace said softly, resting her hands against his coat. “I’m just sticky and tired.”
“Marcus has already initiated the freeze,” Dominic said, his eyes scanning her features to ensure no real harm had been done. “By sunrise, the Caldwell family will be liquidating their assets to pay off their debts, and Mercer Holdings will be answering to a court-appointed receiver who reports directly to my legal team.”
Grace let out a long breath, half-exasperated, half-amused.
“Did you destroy a quarter of the city?”
“I exercised our legal options,” Dominic corrected gravely, though a faint, wicked flicker danced in his dark eyes. “And I made a phone call to the zoning board regarding Harbor House. They failed their health inspection three minutes ago. The restaurant is closed indefinitely.”
Grace stared at him, then let out a sudden, bright laugh that echoed across the quiet courtyard.
“You closed the whole restaurant?”
“They failed to protect my wife,” Dominic said simply, as if explaining why the sun rose in the east. “It was a public safety hazard.”
He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, and led her up the stone steps toward the heavy oak doors of the house.
“Come inside. I had the staff prepare a hot bath. And I bought you something to wear.”
May you like
“Dominic, I have clothes upstairs,” she protested mildly.
“Not like this one,” he replied, opening the door for her. “You are Mrs. Rainer. It is time the city of Baltimore understood what that actually means.”
