Chapter 5 - The Trap is Set
The safehouse in Marblehead was a sprawling, stone estate perched high on a granite cliff overlooking the churning, dark waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
For three days, the storm outside raged, match-for-match, with the silent war engulfing the city of Boston.
Inside the estate, Clara sat by a roaring stone fireplace in the library. She wore a soft cashmere sweater provided by Dominic’s staff, a warm mug of tea resting in her lap.
In the adjacent room, a team of private physicians was treating Leo. His ribs were cracked, his jaw severely bruised, but he was recovering. The sheer terror that had haunted his eyes for months was slowly receding, replaced by a deep, burning guilt over what he had put his sister through.
The heavy oak doors of the library opened, and Dominic walked in.
He had shed his tuxedo for a dark turtleneck sweater and slate-gray trousers. He looked tired—dark circles shadowed his amber eyes—but his presence still radiated that same quiet, absolute authority.
He walked over to the fireplace and stood beside her, looking into the flames.
"How is your brother?" Dominic asked gently.
"Sleeping," Clara replied softly. "The doctor gave him something for the pain. He... he spent two hours trying to apologize to me today."
"He made a terrible mistake," Dominic said coldly. "Borrows money from a snake like Moretti, he deserves a lesson. But no man touches my people because of a fool's gambling debt."
Clara looked up at him, setting her tea mug on the side table. "Are we your people now, Mr. Russo?"
Dominic turned his head, his amber eyes locking onto hers. The reflection of the fire danced in his pupils.
"You saved my life, Clara," he said, his voice dropping into a rich, velvety register that made Clara’s heart skip a beat. "In my world, a life debt is sacred. You are under my wing now. Nothing in New England can harm you while I draw breath."
He reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. His touch was feather-light, completely at odds with the violent man who had executed an enforcer three nights ago. Clara leaned into his touch slightly, realizing with a start that she felt safer beside this feared crime lord than she had ever felt in her life.
"What is happening in the city?" Clara asked softly.
Dominic’s lips curved into a dark, lethal smile. "The trap is working."
He sat down in the armchair across from her. "The morning after my birthday, I had my physicians leak a false medical report to the press and the hospitals. We announced that I had suffered a catastrophic, unexplained cardiac event and was currently in a vegetative state on life support at my estate."
Clara gasped softly. "So Victor thinks..."
"Victor thinks his poison worked," Dominic chuckled darkly. "He thinks I am dying, and that my family is in absolute disarray. For the last forty-eight hours, Moretti has been making his move. He has mobilized his entire syndicate, calling an emergency council meeting of the five Boston families for tomorrow night at the Seaport Harbor Club."
"Why?"
"Because he intends to present himself as the new ruler of the city," Dominic explained, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "He believes that with me out of the way, the other families will bow to him out of fear. He is bringing all his capos, his lieutenants, and his corrupt political allies into one single room."
"And you are going to be there," Clara realized, her eyes widening.
"I am going to walk into that room alive and well," Dominic said, his eyes burning with a terrifying, righteous fury. "And I am going to destroy him in front of every boss on the East Coast."
He looked at her, his expression softening slightly. "Matteo and twenty armed guards will remain here with you and Leo. Once Victor is eliminated, his empire will collapse overnight, and the city will be safe for you to return."
Clara stood up from her chair, stepping closer to him.
"Be careful, Dominic," she whispered, using his first name for the first time.
May you like
Dominic stood up, his tall frame dwarfing hers. He reached out and took both of her hands in his, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of her knuckles.
"For you, Clara," he murmured against her skin. "I will always come back."
