Chapter 7 - The Sweetest BurdenThree months later, the snow outside the Lake Forest estate had melted away, replaced by the brilliant green of budding spring trees and blooming tulips lining the grand driveway.
The underworld had stopped testing Dominic Valenti. Salvatore was sitting in a federal penitentiary awaiting trial, the board of directors had unanimously approved a sweeping restructuring of Valenti Holdings, and the tabloids had long since grown bored of trying to dig up dirt on a family that was too heavily guarded to reach.
Inside the nursery, Sophie was sitting on the floor surrounded by crayons and a dozen different stuffed animals, singing a nonsense song to Mr. Buttons.
I stood by the window, watching the morning sun glinting off the iron gates below.
Strong arms wrapped gently around my waist from behind. A warm, familiar chest pressed against my back, and Dominic rested his chin on my shoulder, breathing in the scent of my hair.
“You’re quiet this morning, Claire,” Dominic murmured, his lips brushing softly against my neck.
I leaned back into his embrace, resting my hands over his arms. “I was just thinking about six weeks ago. When I stood outside those gates with twelve dollars in my pocket and an eviction notice in my coat.”
Dominic tightened his grip, pulling me a fraction closer. “You were broke, exhausted, and terrified.”
“And you were a grumpy, solitary monster who scared everyone within a five-mile radius,” I teased softly.
Dominic chuckled—a deep, rich sound that vibrated straight through my chest. He turned me around in his arms so I was facing him. His gray eyes were shining with a profound, unshakeable warmth.
“I was dead, Claire,” Dominic corrected gently, lifting his hand to cup my cheek with infinite tenderness. “For eleven years, I was just a ghost going through the motions of running an empire. I didn't live until a three-year-old girl walked straight up to me, lifted her tiny arms, and asked me for a five-minute hug because she had never been held by a father.”
My throat tightened with emotion. I reached up, placing my palm over his heart, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm beneath his shirt.
“And now?” I whispered.
Dominic leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against mine.
“Now,” he whispered, his voice thick with a lifetime of devotion, “I have the sweetest burden in the world. And I’m never letting go.”
Down on the floor, Sophie looked up from her crayons, grinned at us, and held up her stuffed rabbit.
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“Mommy! Dominic! Group hug!”
We both laughed, dropping to our knees right there on the nursery rug, as the most feared man in Chicago wrapped his arms around both of us and finally found the home he had spent a lifetime searching for.
