Chapter 8: The Account and the Reckoning
Nathan finished writing at half past ten in the morning.
Daniel brought the pages to Dominic's study — twelve sheets of handwriting, front and back, covering eighteen months of meetings, transfers, communications, and arrangements.
Nathan had written it the way a man writes a confession when he knows the alternative is worse than the paper: completely, carefully, without flourish.
Dominic read it twice.
Then he called a man named Sorrel, who was not a lawyer in the traditional sense but who understood the legal architecture of the world Dominic operated in better than anyone Dominic had ever met.
"I'm sending you something," Dominic said.
"I need to know what it's worth and what it costs."
"How soon?"
"Today."
He photographed each page and sent them through an encrypted channel.
Then he sat back and waited.
Caruso called at eleven.
"The third installment cleared this morning," Caruso said.
"Foss's people used a layered transfer — three intermediary accounts.
But the origin is clean enough to trace if you have the right documentation."
"I have the documentation."
"Then you have him."
Dominic ended the call.
He went to check on Mia.
The guest room door was open when he reached it.
He stopped in the doorway.
Claire was seated in the chair beside the bed.
Mia was propped against the headboard.
Harper sat between them on the mattress, moving a small toy horse back and forth across the blanket, narrating something quietly to herself.
Neither woman was speaking.
But they were both watching the child.
Claire looked up when she heard Dominic.
Her eyes were red.
She had been crying recently, or was very close to it.
Mia looked up too.
"She came," Mia said simply.
"I see that."
Claire looked back at Harper.
"She showed me the horse," she said.
"It's missing one ear."
"I know," Mia said.
"She chewed it off when she was two.
She's very attached to it."
A silence.
Not a hostile one.
Dominic stepped back from the doorway and left them to it.
He went downstairs.
Nathan was still in the study with Daniel.
Dominic entered, and Daniel stepped out.
Nathan looked up from the chair.
He had aged in the last few hours in a way that had nothing to do with time.
"Sorrel reviewed the account," Dominic said.
"The documentation is sufficient for a federal referral.
The wire transfers cross state lines.
The arrangement with Foss constitutes conspiracy to commit commercial espionage at minimum."
Nathan's hands were flat on his knees.
"I'm not going to make that referral today," Dominic said.
Nathan looked up.
"What I am going to do is transfer the NRC Consulting account in full to a fund I control.
That covers the two installments Foss already paid you.
The third installment that cleared this morning will be returned to Foss through channels that will make it very clear to him that the arrangement is over and that any further contact will result in the documentation going directly to federal authorities."
"And me?"
"You're going to resign.
Today.
In writing.
You're going to cite personal reasons.
You're going to say nothing to anyone about the reason.
You're going to leave this property before noon."
"That's it?"
"That's not it." Dominic sat on the edge of the desk.
"Mia Carter's medical expenses will be paid in full from your personal accounts.
Her salary for the next two years will be paid in advance, also from your accounts.
And you will sign a document prepared by Sorrel acknowledging your role in her confinement, which I will hold.
If you contact Foss again, if you speak to anyone about this house or this operation, if you do anything that causes harm to Mia or Harper Carter, that document goes to every authority that would find it interesting."
Nathan was very still.
"You're letting me walk," he said.
"I'm letting you leave," Dominic said.
"Those are not the same thing."
"Why?"
Dominic looked at him for a long moment.
"Because you pulled me out of a burning car," he said.
"And I'm choosing to believe that was real, even if nothing after it was."
Nathan's throat moved.
He didn't say anything.
He picked up the pen from the desk and signed the resignation letter Sorrel had already drafted and sent through.
He stood.
He straightened his jacket.
"The burning car," he said quietly.
"That was real."
He walked out.
Dominic listened to his footsteps cross the great hall.
The front door opened.
It closed.
He sat alone in the study for a moment.
Then he picked up his phone and called Sorrel back.
"Send the message to Foss," he said.
"And hold the federal file.
I want it ready but not moving."
"Understood."
"One more thing.
I need a document drafted.
Employment contract, upgraded terms.
Household director, not housekeeper.
Salary at the top of the market rate.
Medical coverage for her and her daughter.
Housing secured on the property if she wants it."
A pause.
"For Mia Carter?"
"Yes."
"I'll have it to you by end of day."
Dominic set the phone down.
Outside the study window, the thin white morning had given way to something cleaner.
The SUVs were gone from the drive.
May you like
The property was quiet.
He heard Harper's voice from somewhere above him, still narrating the story of the one-eared horse.
