Chapter 9 - The Confession
An hour later, the blood was scrubbed from the marble. Vince was locked in the estate’s subterranean holding cell, and Marcus Rossi had been dumped outside a downtown hospital with a message carved into his belt.
The house was quiet again. Too quiet.
I sat on the edge of the nursery bed, gently wiping the tears from Mia’s face while her sisters slept fitfully beside her.
The door creaked open.
Dominic walked in. He had washed the blood off his hands, but his face was pale, etched with a raw, agonizing vulnerability I had never seen before. He slowly walked over to the bed, knelt down in front of me, and placed his large, warm hand over mine.
“Are they okay?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
“They’re terrified,” I whispered, looking down at him. “Just like you are.”
Dominic let out a ragged breath, resting his forehead against our joined hands.
“When Marcus had that blade against Mia’s throat... I thought I was losing everything all over again,” he confessed, his voice cracking. “I brought you here because I was selfish. Because I wanted a ghost to haunt my house so I wouldn't have to feel alone in the dark. But you didn't become a ghost, Clara. You became our life.”
I lifted his chin with my free hand, forcing him to look at me. His dark eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.
“You didn't just hire a replacement for Elena, Dominic,” I said softly, my voice steady and clear. “You built a home. And even if you’re a terrifying mafia boss who kills men in the foyer... you’re their father. And you’re my home, too.”
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Dominic didn't hesitate anymore.
He pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck, holding me so tightly I could feel the desperate, frantic beating of his heart. For the first time since I stepped through those iron gates, the darkness inside him didn't feel threatening. It felt like a safe harbor.
