Chapter 7 - The Ghost in the Shadows
Four months passed. The snow melted, giving way to the lush, wild greenery of the mountain spring.
The Hawthorne estate was transformed. Under Meline's quiet, iron-willed management, the house functioned with flawless precision. New staff were hired—quiet, professional people who kept their heads down and did their work. The mirrors were repaired, the heavy velvet drapes were pulled back to let the sunlight flood the grand halls, and the scent of fresh flowers replaced the smell of stale scotch.
Dominic was changing too.
He no longer slouched in his dark armchair. He walked the halls with a polished black cane, mapping every corner of the estate with mathematical precision. He worked out in his private gym every morning, his broad muscles returning, his scarred body hardening back into the weapon it had once been.
He wore tailored dark suits again. He shaved his thick beard, leaving only a dark, sharp jawline that commanded terror and respect.
He was a king preparing to reclaim his throne.
Every evening at eight o'clock, Dominic sat on the terrace with Meline. They didn't need words. He would sip his espresso while she sat beside him with her sketchpad, drawing the pine trees, the distant mountains, and occasionally, the sharp profile of the blind man sitting beside her.
He learned to read her language completely. Two taps on his arm meant caution. One long slide of her fingers down his forearm meant I am here. A gentle squeeze of his hand meant I love you—though neither of them had dared to speak the word aloud.
On a warm Thursday evening in May, a sleek black sedan pulled up the winding driveway, its tires crunching on the gravel.
Meline stood up instantly, her hand dropping to Dominic's shoulder. She tapped three times fast. Danger.
Dominic didn't flinch. He set his espresso cup down on the stone table with a soft click. "I know. I heard the engine three miles down the ridge. It's an armored V8. Damian's personal transport."
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Meline’s heart hammered against her ribs. She took a step toward the glass doors of the terrace, intent on pulling Dominic inside, but he reached out, his hand catching her arm, pulling her firmly back to his side.
"Stay beside me," Dominic commanded softly, his blue-grey eyes fixed on the driveway below. "Let him see what he failed to destroy."
