Chapter 9 - The Cottage on the Knoll
One month later.
The Caruso estate had been completely restored. The shattered glass had been replaced, the marble floors polished until they shone like mirrors, and the scent of gunpowder had been replaced by the smell of fresh cedar and roasted coffee.
At the edge of the twelve private acres, nestled beneath a grove of ancient maple trees near the service entrance, sat a cozy, white-shingled cottage.
A warm, yellow light poured through the living room windows, casting a soft glow over the light snow covering the lawn.
Inside, a bright fire crackled in the stone hearth.
Claire Bennett sat on a plush velvet sofa, wearing a comfortable cream wool sweater, a mug of warm tea held between her hands. She looked rested, healthy, her gray-green eyes no longer carrying the heavy shadow of constant exhaustion.
Sitting on the rug in front of the fire was Dominic Caruso.
The terrifying crime Don, dressed in a plain black cashmere sweater and dark trousers, was currently sitting cross-legged on the floor, allowing Lily to attach plastic pink hair barrettes to his dark hair.
"Hold still, Mr. Caruso," Lily commanded, tapping his nose with a small plastic wand. "The magic princess needs your hair to be pretty."
Dominic didn't move an inch. "Is it pretty yet, Lily?"
"Almost," Lily giggled, sticking a glittering purple butterfly clip right above his scar. "Now you look like a flower."
Claire let out a soft, melodic laugh from the sofa—a sound that made Dominic look up, his dark eyes softening into an expression of pure, unadulterated warmth.
"You're very patient with her," Claire said softly, setting her tea mug on the table.
"She's the only boss in Chicago I'm afraid of," Dominic replied with a small grin, reaching up to carefully touch the butterfly clip.
He stood up smoothly, picking Lily up in his arms and tossing her lightly into the air, making her scream with delighted laughter before setting her down near her toy chest.
"Lily, go show Barnaby the new coloring book in the kitchen," Dominic said gently.
"Okay!" Lily cheered, grabbing her rabbit and running into the kitchen on her little bare feet.
Dominic walked over to the sofa, sitting down beside Claire. The warmth of the fire lit up his strong jaw and the slight silver threads at his temples.
He pulled a small velvet box from his coat pocket and set it on the coffee table between them.
Claire looked at the box, her heart skipping a beat. "Dominic... what is that?"
"It's not a wedding ring," Dominic said softly, reaching out to take her hand, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles. "I know you're not ready for that. And I won't rush you."
Claire opened the box.
Inside rested a key forged from polished brass, attached to a leather keychain stamped with the coat of arms of the Caruso estate.
"What is this key to?" Claire asked, looking into his dark eyes.
"It's the key to the main house," Dominic whispered, his voice filled with deep, sincere emotion. "And to every account, every property, and every decision this family makes from this day forward. I don't want a maid, Claire. I don't want an employee. I want you and Lily to be the heart of this home."
Tears overflowed Claire's eyes—not tears of fear or grief, but of profound, overwhelming peace.
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"Dominic..." she whispered, leaning forward, resting her forehead against his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart. "You gave us a life."
"You saved my life," Dominic corrected her gently, wrapping his broad arms around her waist, pulling her close. "Both of you."
