Chapter 7 - The Crown and the KingdomTwo years later.
The rain hammered against the reinforced glass of the top-floor office in the Vale-Hart Tower, drumming a steady, rhythmic beat over downtown Boston.
From forty floors up, the city looked like a glittering circuit board of neon lights and dark, sweeping harbor waters.
I sat behind a massive black walnut desk, wearing a sharp charcoal pantsuit, reviewing the quarterly financial portfolios for the newly merged Hart-Vale Global Shipping lines. My phone buzzed beside my laptop—a notification confirming the acquisition of three new cargo terminals in London and Rotterdam.
The heavy mahogany door swung open without a knock.
Dominic walked in, loosening his silk tie as he tossed his wet trench coat onto the leather sofa. He looked older, sharper, the lines of command etched deep into his face, but when his dark eyes landed on me, the ruthless mafia boss dissolved instantly into a man completely dismantled by devotion.
He walked behind my desk, leaning over the back of my chair, wrapping his arms securely around my waist and burying his face in the crook of my neck.
“You’ve been in this office for twelve hours straight,” Dominic murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “The board meeting ended hours ago, Mrs. Vale.”
“The Rotterdam logistics contract required my personal sign-off,” I replied, tilting my head back against his shoulder with a soft smile. “Unlike some people, I actually like running our empire legally.”
Dominic chuckled, a rich, deep sound that vibrated against my back. He reached around, gently taking the stylus from my hand and setting my tablet down on the desk.
“The empire can run itself for one evening,” he whispered, turning my chair around so I was facing him directly. He knelt down on one knee right beside my desk, taking both my hands in his calloused palms, his thumb brushing over the heavy platinum ring on my finger.
Two years ago, I was a terrified girl standing in a steam-filled bathroom, trapped in a house of cards built by a careless brother and a predatory lender. Two years ago, I thought love and marriage were nothing more than currency traded in dark rooms by dangerous men.
Looking down at Dominic now—the man who burned down half of Boston just to keep me safe, who gave me an empire instead of a cage—I knew how wrong I had been.
“What are you thinking about?” Dominic asked softly, his dark eyes searching my face with uncharacteristic vulnerability.
I reached out, running my fingers through his dark, slightly damp hair, tracing the sharp line of his jaw.
“I was just thinking about that night in the steam room,” I whispered with a teasing smile. “When you told me to soap your back.”
A slow, breathtaking grin broke across Dominic’s face—the kind of smile he saved exclusively for me, hidden far away from the syndicate capos and corporate boardrooms.
May you like
“Best accidental home invasion in the history of Boston,” Dominic murmured, pulling me out of the chair and pressing his lips fiercely to mine in a kiss that promised the rest of our lives.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the rain continued to fall over the city lights, but inside our fortress, the storm had finally ended.
