Chapter 4 - The House of Glass
The fallout was instantaneous and brutal.
Within twenty-four hours, the board of directors stripped Dominic of his interim CEO privileges, appointing an emergency committee to oversee all corporate transactions. Vanessa Crowe did not wait around for the legal hammer to fall; by Wednesday night, her luxury townhome on the Gold Coast was cleared out, and her phone was routed to a criminal defense attorney in Miami. She had abandoned Dominic without a backward glance the second the heat reached her doorstep.
Dominic sat alone in the sprawling, cavernous living room of his Lake Forest mansion. Outside, the wind whipped off Lake Michigan, rattling the enormous paned windows.
Empty bourbon glasses cluttered the marble mantle.
For seven years, this house had been filled with fresh flowers, the scent of slow-simmered stews, classical music playing from the kitchen, and Claire’s soft laughter. Now, the place felt vast and hostile. Without Claire, the luxury was nothing more than an expensive arrangement of dead materials.
A knock sounded at the front door. Dominic rushed to it, an irrational ember of hope flaring in his chest that she had returned.
It was not Claire. It was Eddie Caruso.
The burly security chief stood on the front steps, his hands shoved deep into his heavy winter coat.
“Boss,” Eddie said quietly.
“Did you find out where she’s staying?” Dominic demanded instantly. “I need to talk to her. She won't answer my private emails. She’s listening to that viper Monroe.”
Eddie looked down at his boots. “I didn't track her, Dominic. And I’m not going to.”
Dominic blinked, stunned by the insubordination. “Excuse me?”
“I’m quitting,” Eddie said, lifting his chin. “I worked for you for twelve years. I protected your family, I drove your cars, I kept my mouth shut when you were carrying on with that consultant. But that night at the Halstead... when you made me and Mark rip that scarf Claire spent all winter making for you? I haven't slept a wink since. My wife looked at me like I was dirt when I got home. And she was right.”
“Eddie, you work for me! I made you a wealthy man!” Dominic shouted, his voice cracking with desperation.
“No, sir. You paid me well to look the other way while you turned into someone nobody respects,” Eddie said softly. “You used to be a good man, Dominic. Back when you drove that rusted Honda and brought Claire flowers wrapped in grocery paper. But money ate your heart out. Claire was the only person in this whole city who loved you for nothing. And you destroyed her for cheap laughs from people who ran away the moment the cops started knocking.”
Eddie turned and walked down the driveway, his footprints sinking into the deep snow.
May you like
Dominic slammed the door shut and slid his back down against the heavy wood until he was sitting on the floor. He pressed his palms into his eyes. In the pitch-black silence of his multi-million-dollar foyer, the reality of his existence finally hit him like a freight train.
He had conquered the city, and he was utterly, completely alone.
