Chapter 144: Chapter 144
"Boss."
Rodger’s voice cut into the quiet, heavy air of the suite as he stepped inside.
Dominic turned his head. His jaw tightened instantly at the look plastered across Rodger’s face. His grip on Celeste’s hand stiffened before he slowly released it.
"What is it?" His tone was clipped, and dangerous. There was no trace of the mourning man anymore.
Rodger hesitated a second too long. "Landon is here. He says he needs to see you. Urgently."
Dominic’s brows knit, a cold frown forming.
Amara’s eyes flew wide, disbelief etched across her face. "You told Landon? You told him she’s in a coma?"
"I didn’t," Dominic said at once, his voice low, already calculating, already searching for the missing piece.
Rodger cleared his throat. "Should I let him in?"
"No," Dominic said, sharp and final. His eyes narrowed. "How did he get access in the first place?"
Rodger shifted. "He told the receptionists he was your nephew. Which... he is."
Silence dropped like a blade. Dominic’s mouth pressed into a hard line, the weight of this intrusion sitting heavy on his chest.
Finally, he nodded once, curt and cold. He slipped his hand from Celeste’s, rose to his feet, and glanced at Amara. His expression said more than words ever could: Stay here. Don’t let anything shake her peace.
"I’ll be back," he muttered.
Amara could only nod, still watching him with that uneasy mix of worry and suspicion.
Dominic walked out of the room, Rodger falling into step behind him. The door clicked shut, leaving Amara alone again with the faint sound of machines and Celeste’s fragile breathing.
Dominic found Landon sprawled on a couch in the lobby, legs crossed, with his phone in hand. That arrogant, smug curl of his lips didn’t shift as he scrolled, as though he owned the place.
Dominic walked straight toward him, stopping just a breath away. His voice was flat. "Be quick."
Landon looked up slowly, flashing a grin. "Hello, Uncle. Nice seeing you too. Thanks for asking. I’ve been doing just fine." He chuckled at his own sarcasm.
Dominic’s face didn’t move. There was no irritation, nor amusement. His expression was just a wall.
"Carlos contacted me," Landon continued, leaning back lazily, as though delivering gossip instead of a threat. "Said he’d release some kind of gas on civilians if you keep him waiting."
His grin widened, taunting. "He said, and I quote: ’My message for your uncle is simple. Your uncle already knows about the gas. Poisoned stockpiles buried under Sicily’s soil. He’s kept it contained for years, fought to keep it out of the wrong hands. But I have men who can take it. They’ll release it, and five thousand civilians will choke and die in the streets before anyone can stop it.’"
Landon paused, watching Dominic’s face, hunting for a reaction. He got nothing, but he went on anyway. He wasn’t the untouchable Uncle Dom anymore. He believed he’d get a reaction. No matter how little.
"So naturally," he went on with mock sincerity, "I told him not to involve civilians. Being your loyal nephew and all." His smirk deepened. "Then he said, ’The balance of power must be equal. Dominic plays king, but he knows balance sustains empires. I have government contacts who’ll sweep it under silence. I’ll walk away untouched. If Dominic accepts my proposal, our families thrive together. If he refuses... Sicily drowns in gas and death. Tell your uncle. Make him listen. The throne he clings to is more fragile than he believes.’"
Silence fell upon them again.
Dominic just stared at him, gaze blank, unreadable, as though Landon hadn’t spoken at all.
Landon laughed. "Oh, fuck me. You don’t even care." He tossed his phone aside, leaning forward now, elbows on his knees now. His eyes flickered to Rodger now, for an effect. However, he also saw no reaction. "Tell me, Rodger. Where did our good old Uncle Dom go? Doesn’t he want to save thousands of lives? Have them singing his name in the streets? Or is he too tired of playing king?"
Still nothing. Just that cold stare.
And just when Landon was sure he’d get silence forever, Dominic finally spoke.
"Five thousand lives," he said, his voice flat as stone. "And you think that makes you important?"
Landon blinked, thrown for just a second, then scoffed. "Important? No, Uncle. That makes me indispensable." He leaned back, spreading his arms smugly. "Carlos chose me to deliver the message because he trusts me. Because he knows I can—"
Dominic cut in, soft. "Carlos chose you because you’re forgettable."
The words hung there, slicing the air in half.
Landon’s jaw ticked. "Forgettable?" He laughed. His laughter came out too loud, and too sharp. "If I’m so forgettable, why are you listening?"
Dominic tilted his head, his eyes unreadable. "I’m not listening."
Rodger smirked at that, sharp and wolfish, his arms folding.
Landon’s bravado wavered. He tried to recover, leaning forward, voice harsher now. "Careful, Uncle. You keep ignoring Carlos, and Sicily drowns in poison. The people will know it was on your hands. They’ll spit on your name—"
Dominic’s gaze cut into him. "Let them. Names don’t keep me awake at night."
The silence that followed was heavier than the words themselves.
Landon’s throat bobbed before he forced a smirk back onto his face. "You think you’re untouchable. You think your throne can’t crack. But Carlos is right. Balance sustains empires. And right now, the balance isn’t in your favor."
"Five thousand lives," Dominic said again, slower now, deliberate. "It isn’t about numbers. Carlos doesn’t care about those civilians. He doesn’t care about you. He cares about leverage. And if I were foolish enough to give him what he wants, those lives would still burn. Because men like Carlos don’t stop when they taste blood. They gorge until their teeth break."
Landon swallowed, too quickly. He masked it with another sneer, but Dominic saw it. He always saw it.
"Tell me," Dominic continued, eyes locking onto Landon’s with that terrifying steadiness. "When he called you, when he fed you his speech about balance and empires, did you really think he chose you because you’re valuable?" His tone dipped colder. "Or because you’re disposable enough to carry the fallout when things collapse?"
Rodger, silent until now, shifted his stance just slightly. A smirk curved his mouth, sharp and knowing. Landon noticed it, and his skin prickled.
"But you should know me better than that, nephew. I don’t negotiate with men who threaten the innocent." His gaze cut deeper. "And I certainly don’t waste my time on pawns who mistake themselves for kings."
Rodger’s smirk widened. Dominic turned to walk away, and Rodger followed behind him. Landon stood there, feeling humiliated.