Chapter 7 - Secrets of the Family Vault
Back inside the penthouse, the adrenaline that had fueled my sprint through the Velvet Room finally evaporated, leaving me cold and shaking. Dominic poured two fingers of amber bourbon into heavy crystal glasses and brought them to the terrace overlooking Lake Michigan.
The city lights stretched endlessly into the night, shimmering against the dark expanse of water.
"You hit him with a decanter," Dominic remarked, leaning against the marble balustrade, watching me with that unreadable intensity.
"He was reaching for a weapon," I said, wrapping my cold fingers around the glass. "I wasn't going to sit there and wait for him to shoot me."
"Most people freeze," he said softly. "Men who have spent twenty years in the trade would have frozen. You didn't."
"I grew up on the West Side, Dominic. You learn quickly that if you hesitate, people take whatever you have left." I took a sip of the bourbon, letting the burning warmth settle the panic in my stomach. "The ledger showed over four million dollars transferred to Lucenti's account. They are buying military-grade ordnance from a shipment arriving at the Port of Chicago tomorrow night."
Dominic’s jaw tightened. "Antonio isn't just trying to squeeze my territory. He’s planning a full assault on the downtown properties. He wants to execute the city council liaison and frame my organization for the fallout."
"Why do you carry this?" I asked, looking up at him, unable to hold back the question any longer. "You have enough wealth to walk away. You could buy an estate in Switzerland, disappear, and live without looking over your shoulder every time a car backfires."
Dominic looked out over the skyline, the shadows cutting deep contours across his face.
"When I was nine years old, Antonio Lucenti’s father set fire to my family’s home because my grandfather refused to sell our shipping line," Dominic whispered, his voice stripped bare of its usual arrogance. "My mother died in that fire. My brother barely survived. If I walk away, men like Antonio run this city. Innocent people—people like you, your mother, the families living six blocks from Strada—become collateral damage in their greed. I stay because I am the only thing standing between Chicago and chaos."
He looked down at me, his eyes dark with raw, unguarded pain.
For the first time, I didn't see the ruthless billionaire or the feared mobster. I saw a man who had built a cage out of iron and power to protect a city that would never thank him for it.
Without thinking, I reached out and rested my palm against his cheek. His skin was rough, warm, and alive. Dominic closed his eyes briefly at my touch, leaning into my palm as if he hadn't felt gentle human contact in a decade.
"You don't have to fight them alone, Dominic," I whispered.
May you like
He opened his eyes, his gaze burning through my defenses. He caught my wrist, pulled me toward him, and pressed his lips against mine with fierce, desperate hunger.
The world around us vanished—the guns, the syndicates, the blood on the linen. There was only the heat of his mouth, the strength of his arms pulling me against his chest, and the terrifying realization that I had fallen completely, irreversibly in love with the most dangerous man in Chicago.
