Chapter 2 - The Enforcer’s ShadowBy evening, my entire world had been dismantled, reassembled, and placed under armed guard.
I hadn't returned to my modest apartment. Instead, Dominic’s convoy—three black armored SUVs with tinted glass—escorted me directly to his private estate tucked behind towering iron gates on the Gold Coast of Chicago.
The estate was a fortress of limestone, glass, and manicured gardens overlooking Lake Michigan. Inside, it was stunningly vast, but painfully cold—until Dominic stepped inside.
“You’re safe here,” Dominic said, removing his suit jacket and tossing it over a velvet armchair in the private study. He turned back to look at me, his dark eyes softening in a way that would have terrified any of his business rivals. “I’ve already had Dr. Vance—the finest maternal specialist in the Midwest—relocate his practice to our private wing. You won't have to lift a finger, Chloe. Your only job from this moment forward is to rest and eat.”
I crossed my arms, standing near the towering floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the crashing dark waters of the lake. “Dominic, stop. You’re treating me like a hostage in a five-star hotel.”
“I am treating you like the mother of my child,” he corrected, his voice dropping into that low, non-negotiable baritone. He walked over, standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. “Do you have any idea what it felt like walking into that clinic today? For years, people have tried to take everything from me—my territory, my family, my life. I never cared about losing any of it. But standing there and realizing my own blood was growing inside the woman standing next to that pathetic ex-fiancé of yours... it nearly broke me.”
“Derek doesn’t matter,” I murmured, looking up into his intense gaze. “He was a mistake I made before I even knew what real strength looked like.”
“Good,” Dominic said darkly. “Because as of an hour ago, Derek’s firm has lost every single municipal contract they held with the city of Chicago. By tomorrow morning, he’ll be lucky if he can afford a cup of coffee.”
I gasped, staring at him. “Dominic! You didn't ruin his career just because he was rude to me?”
“He insulted the mother of my child in public,” Dominic replied smoothly, as if discussing a routine stock acquisition. “In my world, disrespect carries a price. Consider it a discount.”
Before I could argue further, a sharp knock echoed at the study door.
Marco, Dominic’s chief enforcer and right-hand man, stepped inside, holding a secure encrypted tablet. His face was unusually grim.
“Boss, we have a situation,” Marco reported, glancing briefly at me before looking back at Dominic. “The Santoro family has picked up chatter from the docks. They heard rumors that you’ve claimed an independent civilian as your partner, and they’re viewing it as a vulnerability. Word is getting around that someone got close to you during the Starlight Gala.”
The temperature in the room plummeted instantly. All warmth vanished from Dominic’s face, replaced by the lethal, calculating mask of the Chicago Don.
“Let them try,” Dominic said quietly, each word carrying the weight of a death sentence. “Double the perimeter guards around the estate. Anyone approaches within five hundred yards without my direct authorization, shoot first and ask questions when I tell you to.”
Marco nodded briskly and exited the room, closing the heavy mahogany doors behind him.
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. The reality of Dominic’s world—the violence, the shadows, the enemies—was crashing through the pristine illusion of our domestic sanctuary.
“Is this my life now?” I whispered, looking down at my hands. “Living behind concrete walls while men with guns patrol the perimeter?”
May you like
Dominic stepped closer, taking both of my hands in his. His grip was firm, warm, and utterly unyielding.
“Listen to me, Chloe,” he said, his voice fierce and absolute. “I built this empire so that nothing could ever touch me. But the moment you walked into my life, I realized I built it to protect you. You are never alone again. And anyone who thinks they can use you to get to me will find out very quickly why they call me the last king of Chicago.”
