Chapter 3 - Shadows in the Master WingThe East Wing suite was larger than my entire apartment in Queens. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows offered a panoramic, melancholic view of the grey Atlantic crashing against the jagged cliffs below. A massive king-sized bed dominated the center of the room, flanked by French doors leading directly into a fully stocked, sunlit nursery where Clara was currently sleeping peacefully in a mahogany crib.
Yet, despite the luxury, every door in the suite remained heavy, and I knew without trying that the exterior balcony locks were coded.
I was a prisoner in a golden cage.
By midnight, the coastal storm broke, sending violent sheets of rain lashing against the glass panes. I sat in a velvet armchair by the window, staring out into the pitch-black darkness, unable to sleep.
A soft knock echoed at the suite door.
I didn't answer. A moment later, the heavy wood clicked open, and Dominic stepped inside. He had removed his suit jacket; his white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the dense, intricate patterns of dark ink winding up his forearms.
He was holding a steaming mug of tea and a small plate of toast.
— You haven't touched dinner, — he said, setting the tray down on the marble coffee table.
— I’m not hungry, — I answered without turning my head from the window.
Dominic pulled up a chair and sat down opposite me, resting his elbows on his knees.
— You can't starve yourself, Elena. If you break down, Clara suffers.
— Why me? — I finally whispered, turning my hollow eyes to meet his. — Out of all the wet nurses, specialists, and nannies money could buy in New York and London, why did you pull me off that plane? What do you actually know about me, Dominic?
He was quiet for a long moment, the flickering amber light from the fireplace casting deep shadows across his sharp cheekbones.
— I know everything about you, — he said quietly.
My breath caught. — What is that supposed to mean?
— Three months ago, your husband, Mark Vance, took a consulting contract with one of my primary shipping subsidiaries in Brooklyn, — Dominic explained, his voice dropping into a somber register. — Two weeks later, his car was run off the New Jersey Turnpike by an unmarked semi-truck. The local police closed it as a tragic accident of fatigue.
My chest seized. I stood up so fast my chair scraped loudly against the hardwood floor.
— How do you know my husband’s name? — I choked out, terror gripping my throat. — The police said it was black ice!
— The police on that county payroll said whatever my rivals paid them to say, — Dominic corrected coldly, standing up to face me. — Mark wasn't killed by an accident, Elena. He discovered that my primary competitor was laundering cartel funds through my shipping ports—and he was gathering evidence to hand over to federal investigators. They killed him to silence him. And they ran your car off the road to ensure no witnesses survived.
The room seemed to tilt on its axis. The floor dropped away beneath my feet.
— No... no, that’s a lie, — I sobbed, shaking my head violently as tears spilled over my cheeks. — We were just an ordinary family! We had twin boys!
— You were never ordinary, because Mark loved you too much to keep you in the dark, — Dominic said softly, stepping closer and reaching out to gently grip my trembling shoulders. — And when my intelligence division traced the wreckage back to my company, I dug deeper. I found out you survived. I found out your babies died in the hospital days later due to ‘unexplained respiratory failure’ while under the care of a county coroner tied to my enemies.
I stared up at him, my soul shattering into a million jagged pieces as the horrifying truth washed over me.
— They didn't just kill Mark, — I whispered, the words tearing my throat apart. — They killed my babies, too.
— Yes, — Dominic answered, his dark eyes burning with a cold, terrifying promise of retribution. — Which is why you were never safe walking out of that hospital three months ago. And why, when my men spotted you boarding a flight to London under an alias to escape your grief, I cleared the passenger manifest, booked the seat behind you, and waited for the exact moment you realized your true purpose.
I pushed against his chest, backing away in horror.
— You used me! You stalked me! You tracked me down just to use my body to feed your motherless child while you wage your private war!
— I saved your life, Elena, — Dominic corrected, his voice ringing with absolute, unyielding authority. — And now, I am going to give you the one thing you’ve been dying for since the day you buried your sons.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy, encrypted flash drive, placing it gently on the table.
— Inside this drive is the complete financial ledger, hitman contracts, and names of every single man who ordered the murder of your husband and your children.
I froze, staring at the small piece of plastic as if it were glowing with radiation.
— What’s the catch? — I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
May you like
Dominic stepped right up to me, his gaze locking onto my soul with an intensity that burned away all my fear.
— The catch is that you stay here under my roof, where my army can protect you. And together, we are going to hunt them down one by one until every single bastard who broke your family is rotting in the ground.
Related Stories
