Chapter 1 - The Trap Set in Linen
“That man isn’t catering staff,” Dominic said, his amber eyes locking onto Harper with the precision of a scoped rifle. “His name is Marco. He’s on the payroll of Lorenzo Marino. And Marino has been trying to find a vulnerability inside this estate for six months.”
Harper’s fingers loosened, the heavy leather-bound book nearly slipping from her grasp. “Marino? The family your grandmother mentioned? The ones with the lilies?”
“The ones who want control of the South Side docks,” Dominic corrected quietly, walking toward the grand floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Michigan. He stood in the pale morning light, a towering silhouette of dense muscle, old scars, and dark ink. “Brenda didn’t send you up here to inventory linens, Harper. Brenda took fifty thousand dollars from Marco to leave the east wing keycard in an unlocked drawer. You were meant to be found in this bed, but not by my Nonna.”
Harper’s throat went bone-dry. The fatigue that had weighed down her limbs for sixteen hours vanished, replaced by a cold, electric terror. “What was supposed to happen?”
“Marino’s men were supposed to take photographs,” Dominic explained, turning back to face her. “They would have circulated them to the Commission by noon, claiming I compromised the daughter of a civilian family under the protection of the local union—your father is a retired dock welder, isn't he?”
Harper gasped. “How do you know that?”
“I know everyone who enters my home,” Dominic replied smoothly, picking up a crisp white linen shirt from a chair and slipping his arms into it. “When you walked through my front gate at four o'clock yesterday afternoon, my head of security ran your name. You have no criminal record. You work two jobs to pay your mother’s medical bills, and you’ve never taken a dollar that didn't belong to you. You were chosen because you are innocent. A perfect pawn to start a turf war.”
Harper sank onto the edge of the massive four-poster bed, her knees trembling so violently she couldn't stand. “If they wanted to set you up, why didn't they take the photos?”
“Because I woke up at four in the morning, found Marco outside my door, and had my men throw him into the basement before he could press the shutter,” Dominic said simply, buttoning his cuffs. “And then I walked back into this room, saw a exhausted girl sleeping in my bed holding a catering napkin like a security blanket, and realized that if I threw you out into the street, Marino’s men would kill you to cover their tracks.”
Harper looked at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. “So... your grandmother...”
“Nonna Rosa has been demanding I marry a respectable woman for five years,” Dominic said, a rare, faint glint of dark humor touching his lips. “She has heart trouble. Her doctor told us last month that severe emotional shock could kill her. When she walked through those doors, I had two choices: tell her the truth—that an assassin’s scout had placed a caterer in my bed to frame me—or give her the one thing that would make her stand down and order my guards to secure the perimeter.”
“You lied to your grandmother to save her life?” Harper whispered.
“I lied to my grandmother to buy us time,” Dominic corrected, stepping closer until his shadow completely engulfed her. He reached out, his massive, scarred hand gently taking the heavy book from her paralyzed fingers and setting it on the nightstand. “Marino thinks his plan worked. He thinks I am distracted. As long as the city believes you are my fiancée, you are under the absolute protection of the Castelli family. Nobody touches you. Nobody questions why you are here.”
“And if I refuse?” Harper asked, her voice cracking. “If I walk out that door right now?”
May you like
Dominic leaned down, his face inches from hers. The scent of cedar, smoke, and pure power rolled off him in waves.
“If you walk out that door, Harper Russo, Marino’s hitmen will pick you up before you reach your car,” he said softly, his amber eyes blazing with lethal certainty. “So you are going to put on a bathrobe, walk downstairs, eat breakfast with my grandmother, and play the role of the luckiest bride in Chicago.”
