Chapter 15 - The Devil's Safe Place
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Midnight settled over the city of Chicago.
The private rooftop terrace of Saint was completely deserted, illuminated only by strings of warm fairy lights and the breathtaking panoramic view of the illuminated skyline.
Below us, the muffled bass of the nightclub thrummed through the soles of our shoes, a nostalgic reminder of the terrifying night my old life had ended.
A chilled bottle of champagne rested in a silver ice bucket beside a cozy outdoor sofa, where a crackling stone fire pit kept the cool spring breeze at bay.
I wore a simple, elegant black silk dress, my red hair flowing freely over my bare shoulders.
Dante stood by the glass railing, looking out over the glittering lights of the city he commanded.
I walked over, slipping my arm through his, leaning my head against his broad shoulder.
"Six months ago, I ran through the front doors downstairs with forty-two dollars and terror in my veins," I murmured softly, watching the headlights move along Wacker Drive below.
"I thought my life was over."
"I thought I was completely alone in the dark."
Dante turned his head, looking down at me with profound tenderness.
"And you chose to drop onto the lap of the most dangerous man in the room."
"It was the best mistake I ever made," I laughed softly, looking up into his dark eyes.
"It wasn't a mistake, Nora," Dante said, his voice dropping into a solemn, reverent tone.
"It was destiny."
Dante reached into his inner coat pocket and withdrew a small, square box wrapped in black velvet.
My breath caught in my throat.
He didn't drop to one knee.
He didn't perform an elaborate, theatrical gesture for an audience.
He stood before me as an equal, opening the box to reveal a flawless, oval-cut diamond set in a delicate band of intertwined platinum and rose gold, sparkling brilliantly in the firelight.
Beside the ring lay a small, folded piece of parchment written in Dante's strong, deliberate handwriting.
I picked up the note with trembling fingers and read the words aloud:
Not a cage.
A choice.
Always.
— D
Tears welled in my eyes, spilling over my lashes to run warm and joyous down my cheeks.
"Dante..." I whispered, my voice breaking with overwhelming emotion.
Dante lifted his right hand, his calloused fingertips gently wiping away my tears.
"For two years, someone told you who to be, where to go, and what to think," Dante said softly, his voice trembling with rare, raw vulnerability.
"I will never demand your obedience, Nora."
"I will never ask you to surrender your freedom, your art, or your voice."
"I am offering you my name, my empire, my protection, and every beat of my heart for the rest of my life."
"Will you choose to stay with me?"
I looked down at the glittering ring, then up into the fierce, devoted eyes of the man who had walked through gunfire to keep me safe.
The frightened, broken girl who had run from Cameron Hale was gone forever.
In her place stood a woman who knew her worth, who had reclaimed her family, and who had found her sanctuary in the most unexpected place on earth.
"Yes," I answered, my voice steady, clear, and ringing with absolute love.
"I choose you, Dante."
"Always."
Dante exhaled a long, shuddering breath of pure relief.
He lifted the diamond ring from the velvet box and slid it onto the fourth finger of my left hand, where it fit with flawless perfection.
Then, his strong hands cupped my face, lifting my chin as he leaned down and captured my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that washed away every lingering ghost of my past.
The city of Chicago sparkled all around us, vast, beautiful, and alive.
The first time I sat on Dante Valenti's lap, three men had reached for their guns.
The second time, he had asked me to stay.
May you like
And tonight, standing beneath the stars on the edge of the sky, I knew I would never have to run again.
Because in the arms of the Devil himself, I had finally found my safe place.
