Chapter 12 - WHEN THE CITY TURNED AGAINST HIM
Samuel Farrow was alive.
That was the first confirmed fact.
The second was that he had contacted Dominic from a location investigators could trace.
The third was that the message was not a trap in the way Kessler intended.
Samuel had managed to reach a legal-aid organization through a worker at the facility where he was being held.
A staff member helped him place the call.
He gave investigators enough information to begin locating the building.
And he warned that Elena was being kept somewhere else.
The rescue took place two days later.
Dominic wasn't allowed to participate.
He hated that.
I could tell.
He paced the library.
Checked his phone.
Asked the investigators for updates.
Then checked his phone again.
I sat beside Oliver's crib.
Waiting.
At noon, the first message arrived.
SAMUEL LOCATED. ALIVE. RECEIVING MEDICAL ATTENTION.
Dominic read it.
Then sat down.
For a long moment, he couldn't speak.
I approached.
"Dominic."
He looked up.
His eyes filled.
"They found him."
I nodded.
"Yes."
He covered his face.
And the man who had frightened half of Chicago began crying.
Samuel was thirty-five.
He had lost weight.
His dark hair had gone gray at the temples.
There were scars on his hands.
But when Dominic entered his hospital room, Samuel smiled.
"You're late."
Dominic stopped breathing.
That had been their childhood joke.
Whenever Dominic forgot to pick Samuel up from school.
Whenever he arrived late to dinner.
Whenever he made another promise business prevented him from keeping.
You're late.
Dominic crossed the room.
He knelt beside the bed.
Samuel put his arms around him.
And for several minutes, neither man spoke.
When Samuel finally met Oliver, I stood near the doorway.
I had imagined the moment for weeks.
Would the baby recognize his father?
Would Samuel know how to hold him?
Would everything I'd done suddenly become irrelevant?
Samuel sat in a chair while a nurse helped arrange a safe position.
I approached with Oliver.
"This is your son," I whispered.
Samuel stared.
His eyes filled with tears.
He reached out.
I hesitated.
Only for a second.
Then I placed Oliver carefully in his arms.
The little boy looked up.
Curious.
Uncertain.
Then he grabbed Samuel's shirt.
Samuel began crying.
"My boy."
I covered my mouth.
For sixteen weeks, I'd protected Oliver from strangers.
Now I was watching him meet the father who believed he was dead.
It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
And it hurt.
Because part of me was terrified that I no longer had a place in his life.
Samuel noticed.
Later, after Oliver fell asleep, he asked me to sit beside him.
"Bernie."
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"Dominic told me what you did."
I swallowed.
Samuel continued.
"You kept my son alive."
Tears filled my eyes.
"I tried."
He shook his head.
"No. You did."
For a moment, he struggled to speak.
Then he said, "I don't know how to thank you."
"You don't have to."
His eyes filled.
"Will you stay in his life?"
I stopped breathing.
"What?"
Samuel smiled sadly.
"He's known you longer than he's known me."
I looked down.
He continued.
"I don't want him to lose someone he loves just because I've finally come home."
I began crying.
Samuel reached for my hand.
"Whatever happens with the custody arrangements, I hope we can make room for you."
I covered my mouth.
For sixteen weeks, I'd been afraid that saving Oliver meant someday losing him.
Now his father was offering something I hadn't dared ask for.
A place.
But the relief didn't last.
That evening, news outlets reported a major investigation involving Dominic's companies.
Kessler's financial records had exposed payments connected to illegal shipping and corrupt police arrangements.
Several associates were arrested.
Some of Dominic's businesses faced scrutiny.
The city began turning against the Farrow organization.
For years, Dominic had been feared.
Now he was being questioned.
Publicly.
Relentlessly.
And for the first time, he chose not to hide behind that fear.
He instructed his attorneys to cooperate with lawful investigations and began addressing the illegal operations he had tolerated.
It cost him contracts.
Employees.
Influence.
And the reputation he'd spent his adult life building.
May you like
But when I asked whether he regretted it, Dominic shook his head.
"I regret waiting."
