Chapter 4 - The Sanctuary in the Hills
Three days later, Clara was discharged from the hospital.
She expected to go back to her tiny, damp basement apartment on 187th Street.
Instead, when she walked out of the hospital doors, Dominic’s black Escalade was waiting at the curb.
Frank Bellini was standing beside the rear door, holding a large envelope.
“Clara,” Frank said, looking humbled and deeply apologetic. “I brought your final paycheck... and your things from the staff room.”
Clara looked confused. “Final paycheck? Frank... am I fired?”
“No!” Frank said quickly, waving his hands in panic. “No! God no! Mr. Hale bought my restaurant yesterday, Clara!”
Clara’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Dominic stepped out of the driver’s side, wearing a simple grey sweater and dark jeans. He walked over, taking her small overnight bag from her hand.
“Bellini’s is under renovation,” Dominic explained smoothly. “It’s closed for two months. You aren't working there anymore.”
“Dominic, I need my job!” Clara protested, panic rising in her chest. “I have rent! I have medical bills—"
“All paid,” Dominic interrupted gently, holding open the Escalade’s rear door. “Your apartment lease has been cleared. Your mother’s medical debts have been settled in full as of nine o'clock this morning.”
Clara froze on the sidewalk, staring at him as if he had spoken in an unknown language.
“Settled?” she breathed. “Eighty-four thousand dollars?”
“Settled,” Dominic confirmed. “Now get in the car, Clara. You need rest.”
Twenty minutes later, the Escalade drove up a winding, private driveway in Riverdale—an exclusive, wealthy neighborhood overlooking the Hudson River.
The car stopped in front of a beautiful, stone-built Tudor estate surrounded by manicured gardens, massive oak trees, and high iron gates.
It was silent, beautiful, and completely isolated from the noise of the Bronx streets.
Dominic opened her door, offering his hand.
“This is my home,” Dominic said quietly. “Nobody comes here without my permission. No reporters, no creditors, no drunks from Brooklyn. You stay here until your burns heal.”
Clara stood on the stone driveway, looking up at the majestic house, then down at her own worn sneakers and baggy sweatpants.
“Dominic...” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. “Why are you doing all this for me? I’m just a waitress. I don't belong in a place like this.”
Dominic walked over until he was standing right in front of her.
May you like
He reached up, gently tucking a loose dark curl behind her ear, his eyes soft and filled with a quiet, fierce warmth.
“You belong wherever you want to be, Clara,” Dominic said softly. “And as long as I’m alive, you will never have to feel small again.”
