Chapter 3 - The Alleyway Confession
The alley behind Trattoria di Bella was narrow, damp, and lit only by a flickering orange sodium streetlamp that cast long, grotesque shadows against the graffiti-covered brick walls. The smell of rotting garbage and old tomato sauce hung thick in the chilly Chicago air.
I pulled my thin cardigan tighter around my shoulders, shivering as I waited by the metal back door. My shift had dragged on like an eternity. Every time a shadow moved against the mouth of the alley, my stomach twisted into knots.
At 11:12 PM, heavy, measured footsteps crunched against the gravel.
Dominic stepped out of the darkness. He had removed his suit jacket, his crisp white dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, exposing forearms corded with muscle and faint, jagged scars. He looked less like a corporate titan now and more like the lethal predator rumor made him out to be—the man who had ruthlessly carved out an empire from the ashes of the old Chicago syndicates.
"You're shaking," he said immediately, closing the distance between us without touching me.
"It's freezing," I lied, crossing my arms over my chest. "Say what you have to say, Dominic. I have a babysitter waiting, and I need to get home."
"You said... inside," Dominic began, his voice rough, thick with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. He stopped a few feet away, his chest rising and falling heavily. "You said you were pregnant. Five years ago. When I left."
I let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "Oh, now you're good at math? Yes. I was eighteen, terrified, and three weeks pregnant when you packed your bags in the middle of the night."
Dominic staggered back as if he had been physically struck. He slammed his palms against the brick wall behind him, burying his face in his hands. A ragged, strangled sound tore from his throat—a mixture of grief, rage, and utter disbelief.
"I didn't know," he choked out, his fingers clawing into his dark hair. "God help me, Ellie, I swear on my mother's grave, I didn't know. If I had known—"
"If you had known, what?" I interrupted, my voice rising, sharp and biting. "Would you have dragged a pregnant teenager across the country while running from hitmen? Would you have put a target on a baby's back before she even drew her first breath? Staying away was the only smart thing you ever did, Dominic."
He dropped his hands, his eyes burning with a wild, desperate intensity in the dim light. He stepped toward me, closing the space until I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
"Where is the child?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a harsh, urgent whisper. "Is it a boy? A girl? Where is my child, Ellie?"
"She is my child," I corrected fiercely, poking a finger hard against his chest. "You forfeited all rights to call her yours the night you walked out that door. She has a mother who fought tooth and nail to feed her, who worked two jobs while her bones ached, who didn't sleep for years so she could have a roof over her head. You weren't there for the first steps, the midnight fevers, the first word. You don't get to just waltz back in and stake a claim!"
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Dominic didn't flinch from my blows. He took the punishment, his jaw tight, his eyes swimming with unshed tears.
"Take me to her," he said quietly. It wasn't a request. It was the command of a man who controlled half the city, yet his voice trembled. "Please, Ellie. Let me see my daughter."
