Chapter 7 - The Siege of Chestnut Hill
The bullet had passed cleanly through the meat of Dominic’s thigh, missing the femoral artery by less than an inch. Working with lightning speed amidst the chaotic rain and gunfire, Claire applied a tight pressure dressing and administered a fast-acting local anesthetic.
With Dominic’s mobility partially restored and the armored SUV providing mobile cover, Dominic’s reinforcements arrived, sweeping the docks and forcing the remaining Rossi forces to retreat into the night.
Frank Rossi, however, escaped into the shadows.
By 3:00 AM, the convoy returned to the Chestnut Hill estate. The mansion was placed on red alert. Extra guards lined the perimeter, and heavy steel blast shutters were lowered over the ground-floor windows.
Inside the master suite, Claire was finishing stitching Dominic’s leg. She worked silently under the warm light of a bedside lamp. Dominic sat on the edge of the mattress, watching her face with an intensity that made the room feel heavy.
"You took a life tonight, Claire," Dominic said softly, breaking the silence.
Claire paused, her needle hovering over his skin for a moment before she completed the final knot and cut the thread. She wiped her hands with an antiseptic wipe, looking up into his eyes.
"I protected my family," Claire said quietly. "In the ER, I learned that life is precious. But I also learned that some people exist only to destroy it. I won't lose you, Dominic. Not to Frank Rossi, and not to anyone else."
Dominic reached out, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her down until her lips were inches from his. "You saved me again. That makes twice, Nurse Donovan."
"Then you're deeply in debt to me, Mr. Moretti," Claire whispered, a brave, beautiful smile curving her lips. "How do you plan to pay it back?"
Dominic pulled her into his lap, ignoring the sharp twinge in his leg. He buried his face in her neck, kissing the smooth skin, then moving higher to trace every inch of her jaw scar with his lips, pouring his soul into the touch.
"By giving you everything I own," Dominic breathed against her skin. "My name, my home, my life, and my protection for as long as I draw breath."
Suddenly, the house lights flickered wildly and died.
The sharp, deafening sound of a heavy explosion rocked the foundation of the mansion. Sirens began to blare from the estate's backup generators, and the sound of heavy automatic gunfire erupted from the front courtyard.
Dominic was on his feet instantly, pulling a high-powered assault rifle from the hidden compartment behind the headboard.
"Frank Rossi," Dominic gritted out, his face transforming into a mask of pure, lethal bloodlust. "He knew he lost the docks, so he brought his entire remaining crew here for a suicide run."
The door burst open, and Marcus stood there, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead. "Boss! They blew the front gate with C4! They're inside the foyer! There are too many of them!"
Claire grabbed her medical kit and her pistol from the nightstand, stepping right beside Dominic.
"Marcus," Dominic commanded, his voice cold as ice. "Fallback to the central hall. We bottle them up at the grand staircase. No one leaves this house alive."
Dominic turned to Claire, grabbing her hand, his dark eyes burning. "Are you ready, my love?"
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Claire looked at the man who had brought her back from the dead, feeling no fear—only a fierce, blazing courage that shone brighter than any flame.
"Let's finish this," Claire said.
