Chapter 8 - The Reckoning
The silence in the study was deafening, broken only by Dominic’s shallow, ragged breathing.
Every movement cost him excruciating pain. The fresh stitches in his shoulder were pulling, and a bright red circle of blood was expanding across his white bandages, but he refused to sit down. He stood there, stripped of his suits, his weapons, and his untouchable aura, waiting for my judgment like a condemned man on the gallows.
“You lied to me,” I whispered, clutching the edge of the mahogany desk to keep my own legs from giving out. “From the very first second I opened my eyes in that hospital, you lied.”
“I hid the truth,” Dominic countered, his voice raw. “Because if I told you the truth, you would have looked at me with hatred. And I couldn't survive that, Clara. Not after everything.”
“You orchestrated my job at the Aster Crown!” I shouted, the fury finally bursting through the grief. “You manipulated my entire life! You watched me struggle, watched my mother get sick, watched me count pennies for groceries while you sat in this palace, playing God!”
“I tried to give you money!” Dominic stepped forward, a hiss of pain escaping his lips as his shoulder flared, but he kept coming until he was standing on the other side of the desk. “When you turned eighteen, I set up a trust fund through an anonymous estate in Boston. Two million dollars. Do you remember what you did, Clara?”
I blinked, caught off guard.
“You rejected it,” Dominic said, his eyes blazing with fierce memory. “You told the estate lawyers that your mother raised you to earn what you had, and that you didn't accept charity from ghosts. You sent the paperwork back shredded in an envelope. I couldn't just hand you wealth—you were too damn proud to take it!”
He leaned over the desk, his good hand bracing his weight.
“So I did what I could from the shadows. I ensured the hospital didn't cancel Ellen’s coverage. I made sure your landlord didn't double your rent. And yes, when I found out you were looking for extra catering shifts, I had my event manager hire you for the Aster Crown so I could finally see you with my own eyes. Just once. To see the woman Marcus died for.”
“And you brought me straight into a war zone!”
“I DIDN'T KNOW COSTA WOULD HIT THAT NIGHT!” Dominic roared, the sound tearing through the room. He swayed on his feet, his breath catching as the agony of his wound overwhelmed him, but he steadied himself against the wood. “I thought it was a neutral gathering! I thought it was safe! If I had known Costa had a shooter inside, I would have burned the hotel to the ground before letting you set foot in that lobby!”
Tears were streaming down my face, hot and furious. “And the marriage, Dominic? Was that part of your sick, twisted debt to my father? Did you put a ring on my finger because you felt guilty?”
Dominic went completely still.
His gaze locked onto mine, stripping away every lie, every defense, every ounce of pride that had kept him alive in the ruthless underworld he ruled.
“No,” he whispered.
The word hung in the air, heavy and absolute.
“Then why?” I demanded, my voice cracking. “Why marry me?”
“Because the moment I saw you throw yourself over my mother—the moment I held your bleeding body on that marble floor and thought your heart had stopped—I realized that I wasn't watching over you out of guilt anymore.”
Dominic walked around the desk. Slowly, deliberately, ignoring the agony tearing through his flesh, he closed the distance between us until he was standing inches away.
He raised his good hand, his trembling, calloused fingers gently cupping my cheek. His touch was warm, reverent, and completely devoid of the violence that defined his life.
“I fell in love with your courage six years ago, Clara,” he murmured, his thumb catching a falling tear. “I fell in love with the girl who worked three jobs and never broke. I fell in love with the daughter who fought for her mother with everything she had. Marrying you wasn't penance. It was the only selfish thing I have ever done in my entire life. Because I knew that if I made you my wife, I could use every bullet, every soldier, and every drop of blood in the Rossi empire to keep you in this world.”
My heart stopped.
The air left my lungs in a stunned, trembling breath. I looked into his dark, tortured eyes, searching for deceit, searching for the mob boss, but all I saw was a man bleeding out in front of me, laying his bare soul at my feet.
“Dominic…” I whispered.
Before I could say another word, the wailing scream of the estate’s perimeter sirens shattered the night.
The red emergency lights strobed against the high windows of the study. A split second later, the thunderous boom of high-explosive detonations rocked the foundation of the manor, sending dust raining down from the ceiling plaster.
The door to the study was kicked open. Enzo stood there, an automatic assault rifle slung over his chest, his face blackened with soot.
“Boss!” Enzo shouted over the deafening wail of the sirens. “The front gates are down! Costa didn't retreat after the highway—he used the ambush as a diversion to move his heavy armor into the valley! They’ve breached the outer wall with three tactical trucks! They’re inside the perimeter!”
Dominic didn't flinch. In an instant, the vulnerable, grieving man vanished, replaced by the terrifying warlord who ruled New York.
He pulled his hand away from my cheek and looked at Enzo.
“Where is Isabella?” Dominic demanded, his voice hard as iron.
“In the panic room below the wine cellar with Ellen,” Enzo reported. “Perimeter team is holding the terrace, but Costa brought fifty men. He wants your head, Boss. He knows you were hit on the highway.”
Dominic reached into the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled out a heavy black custom Kimber .45 pistol. With a single, practiced motion of his good hand, he racked the slide against the edge of the desk.
He turned to look at me, his eyes dark with an unyielding, lethal fire.
“Enzo will take you to the bunker,” Dominic said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Stay with my mother. Stay with Ellen. If I don't come back down, there is an escape tunnel behind the wine racks that leads to the boat house. Take the launch and don't look back.”
He turned to leave, but my hand moved before my brain could stop it.
I grabbed the sleeve of his good arm, my fingers digging into the fabric.
“Dominic, wait!”
He stopped, looking down at my hand, then up into my eyes.
“You’re bleeding,” I choked out, terror gripping my throat—not for myself, but for the man who had just confessed his soul to me. “You can’t fight fifty men like this. You’ll die out there.”
A dark, savage smile touched Dominic Rossi’s lips. He leaned down, pressing his lips firmly against mine in a brief, fierce, intoxicating kiss that tasted of salt, iron, and fire.
“Let them come,” Dominic whispered against my lips. “They’ll find out what happens when you corner a monster protecting his home.”
May you like
He pulled away, raised the heavy pistol, and strode out into the roaring gunfire of the hallway.
***
