Chapter 5
By the second day of the wiretap, federal agents had enough evidence to move.
Dominic’s calls revealed shipments coming through warehouses near the river.
He discussed payments to officers.
He discussed forged business records.
And he discussed Clara.
“She knows too much,” he told someone.
That sentence changed everything.
The prosecutor approved immediate protection for Clara.
We moved her to a secure location.
It was not a mansion.
It was a quiet apartment with guards at the entrance and sunlight in the kitchen.
Clara stood by the window.
“I hate that I have to hide,” she said.
“You are not hiding,” I told her. “You are protecting yourself.”
Then she looked down at her belly.
“I want my baby to know I fought.”
“You are fighting.”
That night, Dominic’s mother, Helena Ward, appeared at my house.
She was dressed in black, as though she had come to a funeral.
“Your daughter is destroying my son,” she said.
I stood in my doorway.
“Your son assaulted my daughter.”
“He loves her.”
“Love does not leave bruises.”
Helena’s face twisted.
“You think your position makes you better than us?”
“No,” I said. “The law makes no one better. It makes everyone accountable.”
She stepped closer.
“You will regret this.”
May you like
I looked at the federal agents waiting down the street.
“No,” I said. “You will.”
