Chapter 9 - WHISPERS IN THE ROSE GARDEN
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Two weeks had passed since the tribunal at the Drake Hotel, and a profound, miraculous peace had settled over the Moretti estate.
The Bellini family had vacated their sprawling mansion in Oak Brook forty-eight hours after the judgment, fleeing across the state line to an isolated property in southern Florida.
Their former crews had been absorbed into Dominic’s network without a single drop of blood spilled on the streets.
In the eastern gardens of the estate, the late-autumn roses were shedding their final red and white petals across the manicured stone paths.
The afternoon sun was warm, filtering through the branches of giant oak trees that bordered the high brick perimeter walls.
Maisie was running across the grass, chasing a golden retriever puppy that Dominic had surprised her with three days earlier.
Her joyful, ringing laughter echoed off the limestone terraces, filling the once-somber estate with vibrant, untamed life.
I sat on a carved marble bench near the central fountain, holding a warm mug of spiced apple cider.
I wore a soft cream-colored cashmere sweater and dark jeans, looking completely at ease in the sunlight.
Yet, beneath the comfort and luxury, a quiet, nagging ache lingered in the back of my mind.
I was no longer a housemaid.
I had an entire floor of the mansion dedicated to Maisie and me, a private bank account funded with resources that overwhelmed my simple sensibilities, and a security team that guarded our every step.
But I knew the reality of this world.
Dominic was a king who ruled an empire of violence and political power.
I was a former nurse from a working-class family in Indiana who had fallen into his orbit by sheer chance.
Eventually, the dust from the Bellini scandal would settle.
Eventually, Dominic would need an alliance with an established family to secure his borders.
And when that day came, Maisie and I would become a complication he had to manage.
Footsteps crunched softly over the gravel path behind me.
Dominic walked around the marble fountain, carrying two fresh pastries on a small china plate.
He had discarded his formal three-piece suit, wearing a simple dark charcoal sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his forearms and comfortable dark trousers.
He looked relaxed, younger, and breathtakingly handsome in the golden afternoon light.
“A penny for your thoughts, Claire,” Dominic said, sitting down beside me on the marble bench.
He offered me a warm almond croissant, smiling faintly as Maisie tumbled onto the grass twenty feet away, giggling as the puppy licked her cheeks.
“I was just watching her,” I replied softly, taking the pastry.
“Three weeks ago, she was eating cold macaroni in our cramped kitchen while I tried to figure out how to pay our heating bill.”
“Now she has a puppy, a private tutor, and a closet full of designer coats.”
“It feels like a dream I’m going to wake up from.”
Dominic leaned back against the marble balustrade, his dark eyes studying my profile with an intensity that made my heart flutter erratically.
“It isn't a dream, Claire,” he said gently.
“It is the life she was always meant to have.”
“And the life you earned for her.”
I looked down at my hands, tracing the faint scars on my fingers from years of hot dishwater and hospital cleaning chemicals.
“Dominic... what happens when you decide to marry again?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.
Dominic went very still.
The warm breeze rustled the falling oak leaves around us, carrying the distant sound of waves crashing against the lake bluffs.
“Why do you ask that?” he inquired, his voice low and measured.
“Because this is the mafia,” I answered honestly, turning to look into his dark eyes.
“I’ve worked in your house for six months.”
“I’ve heard the conversations at your dinner tables.”
“Men like you don't stay unmarried.”
“You make alliances to protect your shipping lines, your council seats, and your territories.”
“Vanessa was an alliance.”
“Eventually, you will need another one.”
“And when you bring a real Donna into this house... where do Maisie and I go?”
Dominic didn't answer immediately.
He set the china plate down on the bench between us and turned his entire body toward me.
He reached out, his large, warm hand covering mine where it rested on my knee.
His touch sent a jolt of liquid heat straight through my veins.
“When I asked Vanessa to marry me two years ago, Claire,” Dominic began, his voice thick with unvarnished honesty, “I thought marriage was nothing more than a strategic treaty.”
“I thought love was a fairy tale invented by poets to sell books to people who didn't live in the dark.”
“I believed that having an ambitious, beautiful woman beside me at charity galas was enough to satisfy the expectations of my family.”
He leaned closer, his dark eyes searching mine with a vulnerability I had never imagined the feared Don of Chicago could possess.
“And then I watched you stand in that dining room.”
“I watched a woman with forty-three dollars in her bank account tell a billionaire that she couldn't buy her child.”
“I watched you look down the barrels of Bellini’s guns at the Drake Hotel without taking a single step backward.”
“You showed me what real loyalty looks like.”
“You showed me what family actually means.”
Dominic reached up, his thumb gently caressing my jawline, tilting my face toward his.
“I will never marry for an alliance again, Claire,” Dominic whispered, his breath warm against my lips.
“The only woman who will ever sit at the head of my table is the woman who already holds my heart.”
My breath caught in my throat, my entire world narrowing to the heat of his gaze and the steady, powerful rhythm of his pulse.
Before either of us could say another word, Maisie’s joyful shout broke the spell.
“Daddy! Mommy! Look! Barnaby learned how to sit!”
Dominic smiled, a breathtaking, radiant curve of his lips that chased away every lingering shadow of the underworld.
He pulled his hand back slowly, lingering over my fingers for one final, reassuring squeeze.
May you like
“Come on,” Dominic chuckled, standing up and offering his hand to me.
“Let’s go see what our daughter taught the beast.”
