Chapter 6 - Shadows and Stained GlassThe heavy oak doors of Saint Augustine’s Chapel groaned shut, echoing through the cavernous, gothic interior. Outside, the storm raged on, throwing sheets of rain against the magnificent stained-glass windows depicting saints and martyrs.
Inside, the pews had been pushed aside to make space for cots, medical supplies, and food crates. The children were asleep in a circle near the altar, wrapped in woolen blankets, lulled by the illusion that they were just on a grand indoor camping trip.
Claire sat on a wooden bench near the back, watching Noah and his men fortify the entryways with sandbags and heavy iron chains.
Dominic walked down the central aisle, holding a cup of black coffee. He sat down beside her on the bench.
"They're asleep," Claire said quietly, staring straight ahead at the flickering candles. "How can you be so calm? By morning, Salvatore's men are going to track us here."
"Because I know how they operate," Dominic said, taking a slow sip of his coffee. "They're arrogant. They think Boston is weak without my father. They'll send a strike team right through the front doors at dawn."
"And if we lose?"
Dominic turned his head, looking at her profile in the dim candlelight. "We won't lose."
Claire finally turned to look at him, her dark eyes searching his face. "Why are you doing this, Dominic? You didn't care about your father. You didn't care about anyone. Why risk your entire empire for a children's shelter?"
Dominic was silent for a long time. The dancing shadows from the candles played across his sharp cheekbones.
"Because yesterday, your little girl walked up to a monster and held his hand," Dominic said softly, his voice thick with unexpressed emotion. "She looked into my eyes and saw something my own father couldn't fix. For fourteen months, I thought I was free of him. But looking at her... I realized Vincent left me a choice. I could be the last monster of the Vale family, or I could be the shield."
Claire’s breath hitched. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand—the exact same gesture Sophie had made at the funeral.
"You're not a monster, Dominic," she whispered.
Before Dominic could answer, the security monitors near the altar flickered to life.
Noah’s voice cut through the chapel over the comms system: "Boss. They're here. Twelve men at the perimeter gates. Heavy ordnance."
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Dominic stood up immediately, his coat swirling around his ankles like a dark cape. He drew his weapon, checking the magazine with a practiced click.
"Lock the inner sanctum," Dominic ordered Noah. "Let them in."
