Chapter 7 - Ashes and UltimatumsThe emergency helicopter lifted off the roof of the Ashford estate just as the west wing erupted in a cataclysmic ball of fire. Below them, the mansion burned like a torch, consuming the empire Dominic had spent a decade building.
Inside the cramped cabin of the chopper, the red emergency lights cast a bloody glow over the interior. Marco had finally fallen asleep against Isla’s shoulder, exhausted from the terror of the night.
Dominic sat opposite them, clutching his bleeding side, his breathing ragged.
Isla couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her medical kit, ripped open a package of gauze, and pressed it hard against his wound, ignoring his hiss of pain.
"You're an idiot," Isla hissed, tears finally spilling over her lashes and cutting tracks through the soot on her cheeks. "You blew up your entire home. You threw away everything."
"A house can be rebuilt," Dominic said softly, his dark eyes never leaving her face, softening into something vulnerable and raw that no enemy had ever seen. "An empire can be remade. But you and Marco... you cannot be replaced."
Isla stopped pressing the gauze. Her hands trembled as she looked into the eyes of the most feared man in America—a man who had killed to protect her, a man who had burned his own legacy to ash just to keep her safe.
"Why?" Isla whispered, her voice cracking. "Why go this far for a nurse from St. Mercy?"
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Dominic reached out, his warm, blood-stained hand gently cupping her cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
"Because, Isla," Dominic said, his voice steady and absolute. "You didn't fix my body. You fixed my soul. And I'll burn the whole world down before I let anyone take you from me."
