The Almighty Dominance

Chapter 86

Chapter 88

Tim, Cathy Black's driver, was drenched in sweat beneath his thin cotton shirt.

He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He could feel Cathy's icy gaze boring into the back of his neck from the rear seat.

Ever since Bernard's warning call, Tim had prepared himself for something terrible-but this went beyond his worst fears.

He slammed the gas pedal to the floor, weaving, recklessly through Vancouver's crowded streets.

The usual thirty-minute drive to Cole Finance had to be cut down to ten, no matter the cost.

Cathy's voice stillechoed in his ears:

"Get me there in ten minutes, or you'll be six feet under."

Her tone had held no trace of doubt.

Up ahead, Black Syndicate enforcers on motorcycles roared through traffic, forcing cars aside with shotguns and sheer menace.

They formed a path of chaos, snarling at anyone who dared slow them down.

Tim followed in their wake, heart hammering, ignoring every traffic light, weaving between honking cars and shrieking pedestrians.

He no longer cared if someone else died in this mad dash-survival overwhelmed all other instincts.

"After this," he muttered through clenched teeth, "I'm done. I'm leaving this damned life."

He had told himself the same thing a hundred times for years, but this time-this time-he meant it.

At last, Cole Finance's building loomed ahead.

Tim slammed the brakes, tires screeching against asphalt as he pulled up at the entrance.

He risked a glance at the dashboard clock: exactly ten minutes.

Relief washed through him, his lungs flooding with shaky gratitude.

But his relief was short-lived.

Cathy glanced at her watch, her face tightening with cruel satisfaction.

said softly, her words like

please-" Tim started, voice

the

as

and punched into his

forward, blood staining his

then, too late, that he

g in his mind.

Chapter 88

without a backward glance, her heels tapping briskly against the pavement. Bernard and five other bodyguards fell in behind

gently on the windshield, washing

that is the stuff

Charles Cole's office, Cathy's fury

the door open with a savage

against the wall, revealing a tableau that brought

half-lowered, his exposed flesh leering shamelessly toward Sophia Lancaster, who lay limp

caught, his face went pale, and

sliced through the stunned

a knife drawn slowly from

with that filthy thing

Charles's mind raced.

the truth before Cathy tore him

he

sharp crack sent her head snapping to the side,

fluttered open,

Charles bellowed, forcing a show

You think you can

you know

was shrill, desperate,

have a beautiful wife. You're nothing but a cheap slut no one could

reeling, struggled to

pants back up, then turned to

love, can you believe her nerve? She tried to seduce

"I swear, honey. I adore only you!"

without warning, she

crack of her palm across his cheek rang in the silent

his head, forcing a tight

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