Chapter 7 - The King's Wrath
"Dominic!" I cried out.
Ava scrambled out of the boat cabin, running as fast as her small legs could carry her, throwing herself into her father's arms. "DADDY!"
Dominic dropped his weapon, dropping to his knees on the wooden pier, lifting Ava into his arms and pressing her tight against his chest. His body shook with a deep, silent relief as he kissed her hair repeatedly.
"I've got you, princess," Dominic whispered, his voice hoarse. "I've got you. The bad men are gone."
I rushed over, kneeling beside them, my hands trembling as I checked Dominic for injuries. "Are you hit? Are you okay?"
Dominic looked up at me, his gray eyes burning with an intense emotion that transcended words. He reached out with his blood-stained hand, wrapping it around the back of my neck, pulling my forehead against his.
"I'm fine," Dominic breathed, his warm breath fanning across my cheeks. "Romanov is dead. His syndicate is destroyed."
"Marco..." I pointed toward the fallen lieutenant.
Dominic stood up, keeping Ava in his left arm, and walked over to Marco. He knelt down, checking Marco’s pulse. "He's alive. The Kevlar vest caught the main impact. He has broken ribs, but he'll survive."
Within ten minutes, the sounds of distant sirens filled the night as state police and federal authorities—who had been tipped off by Dominic’s legal network—arrived to secure the estate.
The war for Chicago’s underground was over. Dominic Moretti had eliminated every threat to his family in a single, brutal night.
Three days later.
We were staying at a private, high-security penthouse in downtown Chicago while the estate in Lake Forest underwent massive repairs.
The city skyline glistened outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Inside, the penthouse was warm, luxurious, and peaceful.
Ava was sitting on the thick rug in the living room, happily drawing pictures with a brand-new set of professional pastel markers I had bought her. She looked healthy, relaxed, and completely free of the terror that had plagued her for eighteen months.
I stood by the window, holding a warm cup of tea, watching the sun set over the city.
Gentle footsteps sounded behind me.
Dominic stepped up to the glass, wearing a comfortable black cashmere sweater and dark trousers. He looked younger, relaxed, the constant tension in his broad shoulders finally dissolved.
"The police reports are finalized," Dominic said quietly, taking my tea cup and setting it on a side table. "Dimitri Romanov’s operations have been completely dismantled by federal task forces. The media is reporting it as an internal cartel war. Our names are completely clear."
"That's good," I smiled softly, looking down at my hands. "So... I guess my week is officially up."
Dominic froze. "What?"
"The agreement," I said, feeling a sudden, heavy ache in my chest. "You offered me fifty thousand dollars to survive a single week with Ava. The week ended today."
Dominic turned me around slowly, placing both of his hands on my waist, pulling me close so there was no space left between us.
"You think this was just a job, Emily?" Dominic asked, his voice low, deep, and thick with emotion.
"I... I didn't want to presume—"
"I don't care about the money, Emily," Dominic interrupted, his eyes searching my face with overwhelming intensity. "I paid off your debts because I wanted you free. I brought you into my house because my daughter needed you. But I am holding you right now because I need you."
My heart pounded frantically against my ribs. "Dominic..."
"In eighteen months, I was a dead man walking," Dominic confessed, his hand moving up to gently cup my cheek. "I was a ghost running an empire, waiting for someone to put a bullet in me. Then you walked into that restaurant. You stepped between my daughter and a shard of glass, and you brought light back into our lives."
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine.
"Don't leave us, Emily," Dominic whispered, his voice raw with vulnerability. "Stay with me. Not as a nanny. As my partner. As the woman I love."
Tears spilled over my eyelashes, but they were tears of pure joy. I stood on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply.
Dominic gasped against my mouth, his arms tightening around my waist, pulling me off my feet as he returned the kiss with a fierce, possessive passion that made the world around us melt away.
"I love you too, Dominic," I breathed against his lips.
From the rug behind us, a small voice giggled.
"Eww! Daddy's kissing Emily!" Ava cheered, holding up a drawing she had just finished.
May you like
Dominic broke the kiss, laughing softly as he turned, keeping one arm firmly around my waist. "Come here, brat."
Ava ran over, jumping into Dominic's open arm. We stood together by the window—the three of us held tight in a single embrace—watching the lights of Chicago sparkle under the evening sky.
