Chapter 28 - A Ghost's Message
The fallout from the frozen offshore account was immediate and spectacular. Though it remained out of the public eye, our dark-web monitors picked up massive spikes in encrypted chatter emanating from Senator Hastings' inner circle. His fixers were scrambling, desperately trying to unfreeze sixty-five million dollars that had vanished behind a wall of Swiss compliance red tape.
While the Senator bled out financially, a ghost from my own past decided to reach across the void.
It was a Tuesday afternoon. The Haven Ledger receptionist walked into my office, holding a heavily stamped, slightly crumpled envelope.
"Anna, this arrived in the secure P.O. Box this morning," the receptionist said, looking uneasy. "It passed the security scan, but the return address is the State Penitentiary."
I felt a sudden, phantom chill run down my spine. I hadn't received correspondence from that prison in over two years. I took the envelope, staring at the messy, aggressive handwriting I recognized instantly. Dominic.
"Thank you," I said dismissively. Once the door clicked shut, I used a letter opener to slice the top.
Inside was a single sheet of lined prison paper.
Anna,
I hear your little foundation is making waves in Washington. You think you’re untouchable now, playing the hero for the Senator's wife. But you’re stepping into an arena you don’t understand. Hastings isn’t like Julian Croft. He’s the man who protected Julian. He’s the apex predator. But Hastings has a weakness. A physical black book he keeps in a safety deposit box. He doesn't trust digital servers for his most damning secrets. I know where it is. Julian bragged about it once. If you want to survive the Senator, you need me. Come see me.
— Dominic.
I read the letter twice, my jaw clenching. Dominic was a manipulative, narcissistic sociopath. He was sitting in a concrete cell, utterly powerless, and he was trying to leverage information to insert himself back into my life.
Chloe walked into my office, immediately noticing the tension in my shoulders. "What is that?" she asked, eyeing the letter.
"A desperate play for relevance from my ex-husband," I replied, sliding the paper across the desk.
Chloe read it, her eyes narrowing. "It's a trap, Anna. He just wants to see you. He wants to know he still has a psychological hold on you."
"I know," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Dominic is an expert at baiting a hook. But if he is telling the truth about a physical black book linking Hastings to Julian Croft's syndicate, that ledger could bypass months of offshore litigation. It could put a sitting U.S. Senator behind bars tomorrow."
"You aren't seriously considering visiting him," Chloe said, crossing her arms defensively.
May you like
I looked down at the silvery scars spider-webbing across my hand. The last time I saw Dominic, I was a victim escaping the fire. Now, I was the one holding the matches.
"I'm not considering it," I said, a cold smile touching my lips. "I'm doing it. Book the flight. It’s time Dominic learned exactly who he is dealing with."
