Chapter 11 - The Price of Becoming Clean
Hamilton Holdings nearly collapsed within a week.
News vans surrounded the Manhattan tower.
Headlines connected Damian to everything from racketeering to port corruption.
Board members resigned.
Investors panicked.
Competitors celebrated.
Caitlyn returned to work.
Technically, she was still fired.
Nobody dared mention it.
She walked into Damian’s office on Monday morning and found Vincent sitting behind the desk.
“That chair looks wrong with you in it.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“Where’s Damian?”
“Meeting with prosecutors.”
She placed coffee on the desk.
Black.
No sugar.
Three inches from the right edge.
Then she stopped.
Old habit.
Vincent noticed.
“You miss him.”
“I miss having a boss who doesn’t put his feet on the furniture.”
Vincent removed his shoes from Damian’s desk.
“Cruel.”
Caitlyn spent the next month helping separate Hamilton Holdings from every company linked to Anthony.
Thousands of legitimate employees depended on them.
Damian sold personal properties to keep payroll moving.
A yacht.
Two buildings.
A collection of vintage cars.
Caitlyn discovered he had anonymously paid Greenwood Rehabilitation’s outstanding bills for twelve patients.
Not only Noah.
When she confronted him, he looked annoyed.
“You weren’t supposed to find that.”
“Why?”
“Because anonymous means anonymous.”
“You’re terrible at accepting gratitude.”
“Yes.”
Noah improved rapidly.
Words became sentences.
His left arm strengthened.
One afternoon Caitlyn entered his rehabilitation room and found him standing between parallel bars.
She burst into tears.
Noah laughed.
“You cry too much.”
“You talk too much now.”
“Making up for three years.”
She hugged him carefully.
For the first time, she believed they might actually have a future.
Then Damian’s plea agreement arrived.
No prison.
The prosecutors concluded he had not participated in Anthony’s trafficking operation and had provided substantial evidence against the network.
But he would pay enormous financial penalties and surrender control of several companies.
When Caitlyn found him on the roof of Hamilton Tower, he was looking across Manhattan.
“You’re free.”
“Relatively.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s usually dangerous.”
He looked at her.
“You’re becoming disrespectful.”
“You fired me.”
“I rehired you.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“I didn’t agree.”
“I doubled your salary.”
She paused.
“That’s manipulative.”
“Is it working?”
“A little.”
He smiled.
A real smile.
Caitlyn had never seen one before.
It transformed him.
She forgot what she had been about to say.
Damian noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.”
She looked toward the skyline.
Then Damian’s expression became serious.
“Caitlyn.”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something.”
Her heart accelerated.
He stepped closer.
“I didn’t keep you near me only because of your father.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“You’re not subtle.”
“I’ve been told the opposite.”
“By terrified employees.”
He almost smiled.
Then the smile disappeared.
“I care about you.”
Caitlyn looked at him.
“I know that too.”
“I’m not good at this.”
“I noticed.”
“I have spent most of my adult life assuming affection creates leverage.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“It was efficient.”
“And now?”
Damian looked at her.
“Now it’s inconvenient.”
She laughed.
Then she stepped closer.
He did not touch her.
For a man everyone feared touching, Damian suddenly seemed afraid to move.
So Caitlyn took his hand.
“You can touch me.”
His eyes met hers.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He gently touched her cheek.
Then kissed her.
Softly.
Carefully.
Nothing like the dangerous man everyone imagined.
When they separated, Caitlyn whispered:
“You’re better at that than emotional conversations.”
“I suspected I might be.”
She laughed against his chest.
For the first time, Damian Hamilton held someone without wondering whether it could be used against him.
Neither noticed the camera lens watching from the roof across the street.
Or the man behind it.
Nicholas Vale had been arrested.
Anthony Hamilton was awaiting trial.
Dr. Harris had confessed.
But one person connected to the Red Door ledger had never been found.
And on the rooftop across from them, that person lowered his camera.
Then made a phone call.
“Damian has a weakness now.”
A voice answered.
“Good.”
May you like
The photographer smiled.
“Then we finally know where to cut.”
