Chapter 4 - Midnight in the Master Wing
The master wing of the Moretti estate felt like a fortress within a fortress. Heavy oak doors reinforced with steel plating separated the private family quarters from the rest of the mansion.
I tucked Lily into the plush velvet guest bed, stroking her soft hair until her breathing deepened into sleep. She had been through too much today—the bright lights of the ballroom, the shattering porcelain, the terrifying shouts, and the sudden displacement. Yet, she looked peaceful, completely unaware that armed guards were patrolling the hallway outside her door.
I quietly tiptoed out to the adjoining sitting room, where a low-burning fireplace cast flickering shadows across the Persian rugs. I sank into an armchair, burying my face in my hands as the adrenaline finally began to drain from my system, leaving a hollow, bone-deep exhaustion in its wake.
A soft knock sounded at the door. Before I could answer, it slowly pushed open, and Dominic stepped inside. He had removed his suit jacket, his white dress shirt rolled up at the elbows, revealing lean, muscular forearms corded with faint old scars.
“Is she asleep?” he asked quietly, glancing toward the bedroom door.
“Yes,” I murmured. “How is Ethan?”
“Sleeping,” Dominic replied, walking over to the fireplace and resting one hand on the stone mantel. “Dr. Harris administered a full antitoxin flush just to be safe. His vitals are stable. If your daughter hadn't knocked that plate out of his hand, his throat would have closed within ninety seconds.”
I looked down at my hands, still trembling slightly. “Why would anyone want to kill an eight-year-old boy?”
Dominic’s expression hardened, a dark shadow passing over his eyes. “Because of who I am. In my line of work, enemies don't fight fair. They don't come after me in the streets where my guns are ready. They come after the things that bleed.”
“That’s savage,” I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
Dominic didn't yell or bristle at my boldness. He simply looked at me, a strange, grim curiosity in his gaze. “It is. And for six years, you’ve kept this house running like clockwork, never asking questions, never looking at the dark side of my life. I respected that about you, Clara. But tonight, your world collided with mine whether you wanted it to or not.”
“I never asked for this,” I said, tears of frustration finally pricking behind my eyelids. “I came here six years ago as a widow with a baby, needing a steady paycheck so we wouldn't starve on the streets. I cleaned your floors, I polished your silver, I raised my daughter in the shadows of your empire. I didn't sign up to be a pawn in a mob execution.”
Dominic walked slowly across the room until he was standing right in front of my chair. He crouched down—the exact same movement he had made in the ballroom when he knelt before Lily.
“You’re not a pawn, Clara,” Dominic said, his voice unusually soft, almost hypnotic. “You’re the only person in this entire mansion I can trust right now. Everyone else has a price. Everyone else has ties to syndicates, rival families, or internal debts.”
May you like
He reached out and gently touched my wrist. His skin was warm, a stark contrast to the cold, lethal aura he projected to the outside world.
“Help me find the rat,” Dominic whispered. “Help me protect my son. And in return, I swear to you—by whatever blood I have left—nobody will ever touch you or your daughter as long as you draw breath.”
