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Chapter Fourty Six

Author: Scott Franklin
last update Last Updated: 2026-01-05 21:52:03
Dominic’s POV

The call came before dawn. Corbin’s voice on the secure line was short.

“We have a pickup,” he said. “Courier flight inbound with sealed docs. Team is ready. You want to see?”

“Yes,” I said. I grabbed my jacket. I told Percival I was leaving the penthouse and to meet me at the staging room.

I drove fast. The city was quiet. My hands stayed on the wheel like they were holding a plan. I thought of the ledger lines and the shredded paths we had been following. I thought of Voss and of
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  • Bound by Contract, Freed by Love   Chapter Ninety Eight

    Dominic's POVI drove with the windows up and the radio off. The city dropped away and the warehouses came. My hands gripped the wheel until they hurt.“Where exactly?” I asked Corbin on the secure line.“Unit 14 near Dockside,” he replied. “Old refrigeration yard. Cameras show activity two nights in a row. We have a delivery van on a scrubbed plate. Navarro is five minutes out with tactical.”“Good,” I said. “I’ll meet you at the west gate.”I killed the engine two blocks out and walked the rest. The salt air felt like glass. I kept my head down. The tactical vans were lined up like dark beetles. Navarro met me, face set.“You were insistent on coming,” he said. He did not ask why.“I want to see it,” I said. “I need to watch this end.”He nodded. “Fine. Stay behind the line. No heroics.”Percival joined us with a sealed folder under his arm. His expression was all business.“We go in at my call,” he said. “Search, seize, mirror. If anyone resists, Navarro will take point. We documen

  • Bound by Contract, Freed by Love   Chapter Ninety Seven

    Elena's POVI was at the window when the phone rang. The secure line glowed. My heart did a small flip even before I answered.“Elena Hart,” I said.“Ms. Hart,” a voice said. Calm. Smooth. Too calm. “This is Voss.”My stomach dropped like I had stepped off a curb.“What do you want?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice steady.“A friendly word,” he said. “I thought you should know when things get messy.”“Why are you calling me?” I said. “Talk to counsel. If you have an issue, speak to Percival.”He made a small sound that might have been a laugh. “Percival is a good man. He gives you good advice,” he said. “But sometimes counsel is slow. People get hurt while counsel thinks. I prefer directness.”“Then be direct,” I said. “Say what you want.”“Step away from the investigation,” he said. “Step away from Dominic’s fight and peace will follow.”“No,” I said.There it was. The word came out without rehearsal.“You really should consider it,” Voss said. “People are exhausted. People make mi

  • Bound by Contract, Freed by Love   Chapter Ninety Six

    Percival's POVI was still at my desk when Corbin knocked and pushed a tablet toward me. He did not smile. He never smiled at evidence.“Read this,” he said.I looked at the screen and tasted coffee. The email chain was small and ugly. Short lines. Dates. Burner addresses. A string that started with a throwaway account and threaded into directives.“Where did you pull this?” I asked.“The router mirrors and seized drives,” he said. “We found outgoing SMTP headers that matched the aggregator hops. I lifted the bounce and followed the relay. It terminates at a nominee address but the mail headers show a handoff with Voss’s company on the same day as the last smear blast.”I read the messages. They were clipped. One line: meet handler. Another: move funds to trustee channel seven. Another: make her invisible. The language was not poetic. It was business.“This is the correspondence tying money and direction,” I said slowly.“Exactly,” Corbin said. “Not a smoking gun by itself, but it bui

  • Bound by Contract, Freed by Love   Chapter Ninety Five

    Dominic's POVWe gathered at the operations center before dawn. The room smelled like cold coffee and printing ink. Lights hummed. Screens showed maps and camera feeds.“Status?” I asked.“Warrant in hand,” Percival said. He spoke like he does in court—flat and precise. “Magistrate signed at 03:10. Preservation notices served.”“Reyes?” I asked.“Foreign liaison standing by,” Reyes said. “We have a request to freeze related accounts upon seizure.”“Corbin?” I turned to him.“Mirrors live. Router taps ready. Kiosk CCTV pulled,” Corbin said. His hands moved on the keyboard as he spoke. “We can track any upload and link it to an IP if it hits the net.”Navarro came in with his tactical team. He was a steady man in a world that tried to rush. “We go in twenty,” he said. “We move clean. No public exposure unless forced.”I looked at him. “I’m going,” I said.“No,” Navarro said quickly. “You should not be on the ground.”“Yes,” I said. “I made the call. I’m going. I’ll be in command, not in

  • Bound by Contract, Freed by Love   Chapter Ninety Four

    Elena's POVI left the hospital later than I planned. The parking lot lights were tired and yellow. My bag was heavy. My legs were heavier.“Drive safe,” the night nurse said at the entrance. She smiled like she did not know the world had its teeth out.“I will,” I said. I kept my keys in my fist. I kept my head down.I had not planned to take the back lane. I took it because it was quieter. My phone buzzed once and I ignored it. The sound would only make my pulse louder.A shadow moved behind me. I heard steps that matched my steps. I stopped and waited. The steps slowed too.“Hello?” I called. My voice sounded small in the lot.No answer. The steps came closer. My chest tightened. I told myself it was just someone heading to their car. I told myself not to think worst.Two hands hit my shoulders from the sides. A rough cloth covered a face. A voice was muffled near my ear. I smelled sweat and cheap cologne.“No,” I said. I tried to pull back. My bag snagged the door of the car.One

  • Bound by Contract, Freed by Love   Chapter Ninety Three

    Percival's POVI was in my office before the sun. The city was still. The files were not.“Corbin,” I said, “give me the latest on the kiosk.”He slid a tablet across the desk. “Print job at 22:04. CCTV shows a hooded figure. The file hash matches Elena’s photos. The kiosk’s payment trail ends at a cash register. But the email bounce traces to a SIP aggregator. That aggregator routes through a shell registered at a mailroom on Hammersmith. The shell’s nominee director links to a holding company that rings a bell.”“Voss?” I asked.“Possible,” he said. “It is thin on its own. But it is a bridge. The aggregator pings line up with smear times. The hops match previous proxy nodes used in other reposts.”I tapped the screen. “Make a sealed exhibit of that chain and add the CCTV stills. Timestamp everything. Mirror the raw files.”“Already mirroring,” Corbin said. “I started at 03:07. I’ll notarize the hashes.”“Good.” I folded my hands and looked at him. “Get me location CCTV beyond the ki

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