The Exhausted Caterer Woke in Chicago’s Most Feared Man’s Bed—Then His Grandmother Announced a Wedding Before Breakfast

The world inside the study shattered into absolute ice.

Harper gasped, her face draining of color as she grabbed Dominic’s arm. “My father? Oh God, Dominic!”

“Matteo,” Dominic commanded, his voice cold as a steel blade. “Where did they take him?”

“Old Pier 42,” Matteo reported. “Marino called my secure line two minutes ago. He wants you there in thirty minutes. Alone. He said if he sees a single Castelli soldier, he’ll drop your father-in-law into the lake with concrete shoes.”

Dominic cut the call and turned to Harper. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Dominic, please,” she sobbed. “He’s an old man! He has nothing to do with this!”

Dominic took her by the shoulders, his grip firm, grounding her panic. “Look at me, Harper.”

She forced herself to meet his eyes.

“I promised you nobody would touch your family,” Dominic said, his voice ringing with absolute, terrifying authority. “I am going to get your father back. And I am going to end Lorenzo Marino tonight.”

“He said alone!” Harper cried out. “It’s a trap!”

“Of course it’s a trap,” Dominic said, pulling a heavy black 9mm handgun from his desk drawer and checking the magazine. “Which is why he won't expect me to bring the entire South Side union workforce with me.”

Ten minutes later, six dark SUVs tore out of the Castelli estate gates, racing through the rain-soaked streets of Chicago toward the industrial docks of Old Pier 42.

Inside the lead vehicle sat Dominic, flanked by Matteo and four heavy-armed captains. In the rear seat, against Dominic’s strict orders, sat Harper. She had refused to stay at the mansion, threatening to drive herself if he didn't take her.

Dominic had looked at her fierce determination, saw her father’s fire in her eyes, and conceded.

As they approached the abandoned shipping terminal, the massive steel structures loomed against the dark night sky.

Dominic picked up a heavy tactical radio. “Frank. Is the perimeter set?”

“Union stewards have blocked all three access roads with eighty freight trucks, Don Castelli,” Frank’s voice crackled over the radio. “Marino’s men are completely boxed in. Nobody leaves this pier alive unless you order it.”

The lead SUV slammed to a halt outside the main warehouse doors.

Dominic turned to Harper, reaching into his coat and pulling out a small, sleek silver pistol. He placed it in her hand, closing her fingers around the grip.

“Stay in the vehicle with Matteo,” Dominic ordered quietly. “If anyone opens this door who isn't me or Matteo... press this trigger.”

Harper looked at the weapon, then at him. “Bring my father back, Dominic.”