Page 67 of Bound in Ruin

"Can I help you?" Sterling asks, frowning slightly. "You look...oddly familiar."

I smile, letting the expression remain completely devoid of warmth. "It's me. Cooking class, Dom. My wife is Rosalia.”

Sterling’s face drains of color instantly. Fear flashes wild in his eyes, and he immediately lunges forward to slam the door shut in my face. Before the wood can latch, I slip my leather-gloved hand into the frame, catching the door with effortless force and shoving it back wide open.

"Now, now, Arthur," I say smoothly, stepping over the threshold. "I thought you wanted to see me again. You told me to return to class on Saturday."

The judge stumbles backward into his grand foyer, clutching his drink like a weapon. "What... what do you want from me? I don’t have any money, please.”

What? The bastard thinks I’m here for his money?

I’m not surprised that he doesn’t know me. I've been under the radar for years, and I go out of my way to steer clear off the path of any law enforcement officer.

I brush past him, sweeping a quick, practiced glance across the high ceilings and quiet corridors. The house is dead quiet. Empty. No staff, no one. I wonder where his wife is.

"Lovely place you have here," I say, stepping further inside. "Built on an honorable judge's salary, no doubt."

"If you're here to threaten me⁠—"

"I don't make threats, Arthur. I deliver terms," I interrupt, reaching into my inner jacket pocket and pulling out a slim leather folder. I toss it onto the center table between us.

Sterling hesitates before reaching out with a trembling hand, opening the file. As his eyes scan the offshore account numbers, the Cayman shell company transfers, and the exact dates corresponding to Dante's payoffs, his face turns a stark, ghostly white.

"This... this is..." he stammers out, his throat working dryly.

"This is your life, Arthur," I say flatly. "If this file hits the state prosecutor's desk, you lose your bench, your pension, your freedom, and whatever scrap of dignity you have left. But it doesn't have to go down like that."

Sterling drops the folder onto the table, dropping heavily against the leather chair, sweating profusely. "What do you want?"

"You’re handling a case next week. Rosalia Caruso, widow of Luciano DeLorenzo. Now married to me. Dominic Kane.”

His eyes flash with recognition at my name.

Yes. That’s fucking right.

“Y—you’re K-Kane?”

I ignore him.

“When Rosalia's probate case comes before your bench next week, you are going to rule strictly in her favor," I state, leaning in close so he can feel the ice in my voice. "You will ensure she receives every single asset, every piece of land, and every dollar left in Luciano's estate. Do we understand each other?"

Sterling swallows hard, bowing his head in total defeat. "I'll do it. I'll make sure she wins."

I pat his shoulder firmly, a dark, victorious glint in my eyes. "I knew you'd make the right decision, Arthur. Have a good evening."

By the time I pull back into the estate, it’s evening. I head upstairs to the master suite and find Rosalia sitting on the edge of the bed, reading a book.

She looks up the moment I step inside. "Back already?"

“Miss me?” I ask, unbuttoning my coat and tossing it over the chair.

She huffs, but I can feel her gaze tracking me across the room.

I walk over to her, resting my hands on my hips as I look down into her dark eyes. "You can stop worrying about the probate hearing, Rosalia. Next week, you win."

She freezes, the book loosening in her fingers. She doesn't cheer. She doesn't smile. A shadow falls over her face instead. She knows me too well. She knows that for a victory like this to fall into her lap overnight, I had to play the monster in the dark.

“Is that where you went? To see Judge Sterling?”