Chapter 7 - Blood and Confessions
I unlocked the steel bolt with trembling hands and pulled the heavy door open.
Dominic stood in the doorway. His dark shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his hair slightly disheveled, but his eyes were completely clear, fixed entirely on me and the babies sleeping behind me. Out in the living room, Julian and two guards were quietly dragging two black body bags toward the service exit, swiftly wiping blood from the dark hardwood floor.
Dominic didn't look back at the room. He stepped inside the nursery, closed the door behind him, and pulled me into his arms.
He held me so tightly I could hear the wild, thunderous beat of his heart against his chest. His large hands cupped the back of my head, burying his face into the crook of my neck, breathing in the scent of my skin like a drowning man breaking the surface of the water.
“I am so sorry,” Dominic whimpered against my neck, his entire body shuddering with a deep, silent grief. “I am so sorry, Elena... I brought monsters into our life. I trusted the wrong man while the woman I loved was suffering alone in the dark.”
I wrapped my arms around his broad back, resting my cheek against his chest.
For nine months, I had dreamed of this moment—dreamed of tearing into him, of screaming at him, of making him feel every ounce of the agony I had endured alone in that small Queens apartment. But seeing him now, broke open and bleeding from the betrayal of his closest mentor, I realized the truth.
He hadn't abandoned me out of cruelty. He had been caged in a nightmare of his own, manipulated by the very men he paid to protect him.
“Dominic...” I whispered softly, pulling back just enough to look up into his tear-stained face. “What happens now? Silvio is dead. Marcus is gone. But what about the people who targeted us at the airport?”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed, the grief fading into a cold, terrifying resolve.
“Silvio was playing both sides,” Dominic explained, his thumb gently wiping a tear from my cheek. “He wasn't just trying to keep me focused on the mafia war. He was feeding information to the Chicago Outfit—specifically to Don Viktor Vance. Vance knew you were at JFK today because Silvio gave him your flight details.”
My stomach churned. “Why? If Silvio wanted to keep me hidden, why tell Chicago?”
“Because Silvio realized I was losing interest in the war,” Dominic said grimly. “He knew I was searching for answers about why my life felt hollow. He wanted Chicago to eliminate you and the babies at the airport so the secret of my children would be buried forever.”
He took my face in both of his massive hands, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an absolute, unshakeable vow.
“Vance thinks he’s dealing with a Don who is constrained by rules,” Dominic whispered. “He thinks I am still the man who sacrifices his own happiness to keep the peace. He has no idea that the moment he put my children in danger, he signed his own death warrant.”
“Dominic, no,” I pleaded, clutching his wrists. “I don't want more blood! I don't want you going into a war! I just want us to be safe!”
“We will never be safe until Viktor Vance is turned into dust, Elena,” Dominic said firmly, kissing my forehead gently. “Tonight, I end this. I am calling a emergency summit of the Five Families at midnight. And by sunrise... there will be no Chicago Outfit left to threaten my family.”
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He looked over my shoulder at the twin cribs, a soft, rare smile warming his sharp features.
“And when I come back,” Dominic added softly, looking back at me with eyes full of deep, eternal love, “I am resigning as Don. I am taking my wife and my children far away from New York, and I am spending the rest of my life earning back every single second I lost with you.”
