Chapter 11 - The Golden Cage
The canary diamond on my finger was heavy—not just in weight, but in meaning. It was the mark of the Vale family, a silent declaration to every mobster in Chicago that Clara Reed was off-limits.
Six months had passed since Dominic proposed on the balcony. On the surface, life was a fairytale. Tyler was back from Miami, healthy and enrolled in a prestigious private school. Noah was thriving, his night terrors replaced by a child's normal laughter. And Dominic… Dominic treated me like a queen.
Yet, inside the newly rebuilt Lake Forest compound, a cold tension lingered.
The estate wasn’t just a mansion; it was a fortress. Bulletproof glass, thermal cameras, and fifty heavily armed guards patrolling the perimeter twenty-four hours a day. I wasn't a cleaner anymore—I was the lady of the house. But some days, it felt like I had traded one set of chains for another.
"You're quiet today, my love," Dominic said, stepping into the sunroom. He was dressed in a sharp tailor-made suit, his dark hair immaculate. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head before sitting across from me.
"Just thinking about the wedding," I replied, looking at the lavish invitations scattered on the marble table. "It's so... big, Dominic. Hundreds of guests. Half the city's political elite and..."
"And the other half of the underworld," Dominic finished smoothly, pouring himself a espresso. "It has to be this way, Clara. A show of force. In our world, weakness is blood in the water. I need everyone to see that the Vale empire is stronger than ever."
"Is that all this wedding is? A show of force?" I asked, looking straight into his dark, enigmatic eyes.
Dominic’s expression softened. He reached across the table, taking my hands in his. "It’s about making you untouchable. Once you wear my name, no one will ever dare hurt you or Tyler again."
Before I could answer, Frank, Dominic’s head of security, stepped into the sunroom. His face was pale, his posture rigid.
"Boss," Frank said, his voice clipped. "We have a problem at the south port."
Dominic didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "What kind of problem, Frank?"
"A shipment was intercepted," Frank hesitated, darting a nervous glance at me. "By the Feds. But it wasn't a routine bust. The warrant had a name on it."
"Whose name?" Dominic demanded, his voice dropping to that lethal baritone.
"Lydia Vale," Frank whispered. "She signed the warrant herself."
I gasped. Lydia? She was supposed to be in a private clinic in Switzerland, completely out of the mafia life.
Dominic stood up slowly, the air in the room turning sub-zero. "Get the boat ready. Clara, go upstairs and stay with Noah."
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"Dominic, wait!" I stood up, grabbing his arm. "She’s in Switzerland! How could she sign a federal warrant in Chicago?!"
"She never went to Switzerland," Dominic said, his eyes turning cold as ice. "She lied to both of us."
