Chapter 5 - Shadows of the Past
By Saturday morning, the Carter farmhouse was buzzing with nervous, frantic energy. Emma’s wedding was set for two o'clock in the small white chapel at the end of the town road, followed by a modest reception in the church hall.
Sophia woke early, stepping out onto the second-floor balcony that overlooked the misty pasture. The morning air was crisp and cold.
She leaned against the wooden railing, her mind racing. The promise Dominic had made to her mother last night kept replaying in her head. It had sounded so real, so terrifyingly sincere, that for a few minutes, she had allowed herself to believe it.
"You're awake early."
She turned to see Dominic stepping onto the balcony. He wore a dark grey wool sweater and trousers, holding two steaming mugs of black coffee. He handed one to her.
"Thank you," she said, wrapping her cold hands around the mug.
"How is your mother this morning?" he asked, leaning his elbows on the railing beside her.
"She's sleeping comfortably," Sophia replied softly. "The doctor came by an hour ago. He said her heart is stable for now. He thinks... he thinks she might actually make it through the wedding today."
Dominic nodded once. "She's a strong woman."
Sophia looked at him sideways. "Dominic... about last night."
"Which part?"
"The vow you made to her," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You didn't have to say all those things. You went far beyond what we agreed upon."
Dominic turned his head, his dark eyes fixing on hers with intense focus. "I meant every word I said to her, Sophia."
Sophia’s heart stopped. "Dominic, please. Don't do this. We have an agreement—"
"The agreement was to give your mother peace," Dominic interrupted smoothly. "I gave her my word. In my world, a man's word is the only thing that separates him from a beast. I do not lie to dying women."
"So what are you saying?" she asked, her breath hitching. "You're going to keep pretending when we go back to New York?"
"Who said anything about pretending?" he asked softly, taking a step closer to her.
Before she could answer, the sound of a heavy diesel engine echoed down the dirt driveway. A battered silver pickup truck slammed its brakes in front of the farmhouse, throwing gravel across the grass.
Sophia’s face instantly drained of color.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a leather jacket stepped out of the truck. He had messy brown hair, a square jaw, and an arrogant strut that made Sophia’s stomach twist into a violent knot.
"Oh no," Sophia whispered, her mug shaking in her hand.
Dominic’s eyes narrowed as he watched the man walk toward the porch. "Who is that?"
"Jason," Sophia rasped out, pure terror leaking into her voice. "Jason Miller. Lily's biological father."
Dominic went instantly, terrifyingly still. The calm, polite boyfriend vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced by the apex predator of the Moretti crime family.
"The man who abandoned you when you got pregnant?" Dominic asked, his voice dropping into an icy whisper.
"He didn't just abandon me," Sophia whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "He was abusive, Dominic. He took all my savings, threatened to take Lily away from me, and told me I was nothing. When I left for New York, he swore if he ever saw me again, he would ruin my life."
Dominic looked down at the driveway. Jason was standing on the porch steps, pounding his heavy fist against the front door.
"Henry!" Jason yelled loudly. "Henry, open the damn door! I heard my daughter is in town!"
Dominic set his coffee mug down on the wooden railing with meticulous care. He looked at Sophia, his eyes dark, cold, and entirely devoid of mercy.
"Go inside," Dominic said quietly.
"Dominic, no! Please, no violence!" Sophia begged, grabbing his arm. "He's dangerous!"
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Dominic looked down at her small hand resting on his sleeve. His expression softened for a fleeting second, then returned to hardened steel.
"He was dangerous to a woman who had no one to protect her," Dominic said smoothly, gently removing her hand from his arm. "He is not dangerous to me."
