Chapter 72 Chapter 72
Dominic's Pov
The air was thick with unsaid things. After Marc left my penthouse, his tension remained in the room like fog after gunfire. I was at the window staring over the city. I'd built this skyline in my head all those years ago, before I ever cut it from glass and stone. But now I could feel it being taken from me, grains of control slipping through fingers that used to crush like fists.
Elia Torres was no longer a name. She was a silhouette on the floor, a sanitized file that didn't ring true, a ghost we inhaled and buried to protect what? Margins? Investors?
No. Marc was withholding something I knew him well enough. The stutter, the twitch in his left eye, the bumbling laugh… facades. Which meant I needed someone who wasn't lying or hiding something.
I picked up my phone and sent a coded message to Alejandro. "Meet me at my house, don't let Marc know about this meeting, it's private. "
In a matter of minutes, he sent a lone dot. I interpreted that as confirmation that he got it. I sent my coordinates.
“Okay sir, I will be there in 40 minutes."
Alejandro came at 8:17 p.m. He wasn't standing there dressed like a man ready to report. He wore charcoal colored jeans, black button-up shirt, and a coat over his arm. He was a silent stroller, the type of guy who was always five steps ahead of where his feet landed.
I opened the door myself. "Mr Dominic," he nodded and didn't salute. That wasn't required here.
"Alejandro," I said and gestured for him to come inside. The lights in the room were low, only the city's glow seeping in through the windows. I hadn't invited him in for a drink. This was very important.
"This meeting stays between us," I began.
His eyes tightened. "Why shouldn't Marc know?"
"Because Marc is why you're here."
He didn't move. He gre tense but vigilant and I watched understanding seep into his eyes.
"I'm listening."
I headed for the kitchen, halted, and faced back toward him. "I need you to work off the grid. For me. I don't want your boss to even suspect it."
"What am I working on?" He asked with growing suspicion.
"It means," I explained, slowly, "that I need your eyes, ears, and hands to belong to me and me alone. The keys to your work shouldn't be locked in what Marc decides to provide you with."
He looked at me. "You think Marc's withholding something."
A smart one. "I don't think, I know. But I don't have proof yet. That's where you come in."
He stepped back a little, his stance more defensive now. "And what if he finds out I'm going behind his back?"
"He won't."
"And if he does?"
I stepped in closer. " Doesn't matter. Don't forget something very important, Alejandro. Marc may have given you work to do, but he works for me. I'm the one who pays him to occupy a desk. You don't work for him, in the real sense, you work for the name on the building."
Alejandro was still unsure. "This is a dangerous game," he said finally.
"So play it intelligently," I said. He stared at me for a moment, then, slowly, nodded.
"Very well."
And we shook hands. His grip was firm. Like the grip of a man who had accepted darkness.
"Good," I said to him. "Now, tell me. How far have you gotten?"
He took a breath and plunged his hand into his jacket pocket, revealing a notebook and his encrypted phone.
"There are discrepancies. Some timestamps in the logs are missing without a trace. No matching cross-references. Some of the personnel involved in the Torrentech takeover have cleaned pasts. Shattered trails in the emails. It's as if parts of the story were intentionally removed."
I clenched my jaw.
"Elia?"
"Still digging. But whoever deleted her had enough influence to erase a timeline. That's not something simple to do. Not even for us."
"So we're playing big."
He nodded. "Perhaps systemic."
I turned, went to the bar, and fixed myself a drink. "Be sure you get it all. Every name, every deleted file. Every penny lost, I don't care if you have to go through the trash cans. Get a handle on who masterminded this."
"Understood." He thrust the notebook into his pocket and headed for the door.
"One thing more," I said.
He hesitated. "You must understand that this is more than it seems. And I am not going to let anyone be two steps ahead of me again."
He nodded. "No one will." He said, and then he nodded and left.
I was alone again in the penthouse, city lights glinting over the smooth floor.
This was no longer about pride. Or even revenge.
This was about the truth. And whoever erased Elia Torres thought the issue would stay dead.
It would have, but it didn't. She had people who were willing to go an extra mile. Someone who schemed to get to me just because she needed evidence.
She had someone ready to make huge sacrifices and that made my belly turn. I dumped the remaining drink down the drain and walked away.