Chapter 2: The Calm That Was Worse Than Anger
Grace didn't cry in the kitchen.
She stood at the sink, rinsed the soda from her hair with cold water, and called him.
He picked up on the second ring.
"Grace."
She didn't say anything at first.
She just held the phone.
"Tell me where you are," Dominic said.
His voice was quiet.
That particular kind of quiet she had learned to recognize.
"Harbor House.
I'm fine.
But you need to see something."
She sent him the link to Sloane's live stream.
Still running.
Still climbing in views.
Twenty-two seconds of silence.
"Grace."
"I know."
"The Caldwell boy."
"Yes."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"His father's company has three freight contracts up for renewal next month.
Two of them run through my terminals."
Grace closed her eyes.
"Dominic.
You promised."
"I promised not to destroy half of Baltimore."
"Then keep that promise."
"I intend to." A pause.
"A quarter was always the agreement."
She almost said his name again.
But she heard something in his voice she hadn't expected.
He wasn't angry.
He was calm in a way that was far worse than anger.
"Come home," he said.
"Let me handle the rest."
Grace looked through the kitchen porthole window.
Sloane was still at the table, still laughing, still holding up her phone.
The live stream had just crossed forty thousand viewers.
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What Dominic did before sunrise left Evan Caldwell's father making desperate phone calls that no one answered.
Read the full story — link below.
