Chapter 1 - The Ring on the Cold FingerThe rhythmic, mechanical clicking of the ventilator was the only sound echoing through the sterile glass enclosure of the Intensive Care Unit at St. Catherine Medical Center. Thin plastic tubes snake across the hospital bed, monitoring a heart rate that flickered erratically on the digital monitors.
Dominic Rossi stood at the foot of the bed, his broad frame casting a heavy shadow across the white sheets. His midnight tuxedo was still stained with dried crimson down the lapels—the blood of a waitress who had thrown her body over his mother to catch seven bullets meant for an empire's matriarch.
Behind him, his chief lieutenant, Enzo, adjusted his dark suit jacket, his expression grim under the harsh fluorescent lights.
"Boss, if she survives and discovers why you already had a file on her, she’ll never forgive you," Enzo warned softly, keeping his voice below the hum of the medical equipment. "She’s an innocent civilian, Dominic. She threw herself in front of a gun for your mother because she’s human, not because she knew who we are."
Dominic didn't turn around. His dark gray eyes remained fixed on the gold band resting in his palm—a simple, elegant ring he had ordered brought from his private safe forty minutes ago.
"If she stays a civilian, Enzo, Victor Costa's hitmen will walk into this room before sunrise and finish what they started," Dominic answered, his deep baritone flat, cold, and absolute. "The moment she took those bullets for my mother, she became the reason Costa failed. In our world, an eye for an eye means he cannot let a witness who humiliated him breathe."
"And a marriage license stops a bullet?" Enzo questioned.
"A marriage license makes her a Rossi," Dominic replied, stepping toward the side of the bed. He reached down, his broad, calloused hand gently taking my swollen, pale fingers into his own. "And Costa knows that if he touches a Don's wife, every family from New York to Chicago will unite to erase his entire bloodline from the map."
Isabella Rossi stepped through the glass doors, her silver hair perfectly styled despite the horror of the evening, her eyes sharp as she watched her son. "Do it, Dominic. Save her life. We will answer for the secrets later."
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With steady, deliberate precision, Dominic slid the heavy gold ring onto my swollen ring finger. He leaned down, his dark hair brushing against my pale cheek, his voice a low, gravelly promise close to my ear:
"Anybody who comes for you comes through me."
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