Chapter 4 - Whispers in High Society
Within two weeks, my physical recovery progressed rapidly under the care of Dominic’s private medical staff. But my life at Blackthorne House was completely transformed.
I no longer wore the grey wool uniform of a housemaid. On Dominic’s strict orders, Mrs. Bell moved my belongings from the small staff quarters on the top floor to the opulent guest suite in the main wing—directly across from Dominic’s private master quarters.
Custom silk dresses, tailored coats, and fine leather shoes were delivered daily by exclusive Fifth Avenue boutiques. I had gone from invisible servant to the most guarded woman in New York.
One evening, as rain lashed against the tall French doors of the grand library, I sat by the fireplace reading a book to Caleb. The young boy was fast asleep on the leather sofa, his head resting on my lap.
The heavy doors creaked open, and Dominic stepped inside. He had removed his tie, the top buttons of his black dress shirt undone, looking exhausted but impossibly handsome.
"He falls asleep faster with you than he ever did with his team of expensive nannies," Dominic remarked softly, pouring himself two fingers of bourbon at the crystal decanter.
"He just needed to feel safe," I replied quietly, stroking Caleb’s dark hair. "Children know when the world around them is dangerous."
Dominic walked over and sat on the edge of the mahogany coffee table facing me. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes studying my face in the firelight.
"Arthur Vance made a move today," Dominic said flatly.
I froze, my hand pausing on Caleb’s hair. "What did he do?"
"He sent an encrypted message to my secure server," Dominic replied, pulling a folded piece of heavy paper from his pocket. "He knows you survived the shooting. He knows you are staying at Blackthorne House. He offered a trade."
My breath hitched. "A trade?"
"He will surrender his claims on the East Coast shipping routes and sign over a forty percent stake in his European holdings," Dominic explained, his voice eerily calm. "In exchange, I hand you over to his custody in London."
A cold sweat broke out across my back. I looked down at Caleb, then back at Dominic. The deal Arthur was offering was worth billions of dollars. In the brutal world of organized crime and international business, people were murdered for a fraction of that wealth. To a mafia Don, a former maid was a small price to pay for absolute dominance over the Atlantic trade.
"I see," I whispered, trying to keep my voice from trembling. "When do I leave?"
Dominic stared at me for three agonizing seconds. Then, a dark, dangerous smile slowly spread across his sharp features.
He reached out, took the paper, and casually tossed it into the roaring fireplace. We watched together as the paper curled, blackened, and turned to ash.
"Did you really think I would sell you, Genevieve?" Dominic asked, his deep voice rich with offense. "You took three bullets for my child. There is no amount of money, power, or land on this earth that can purchase what you mean to this family."
"Dominic... Arthur has political power, private armies, and endless money," I warned him, my voice thick with emotion. "He will start a war in your city."
Dominic stood up, stepping closer to me until he was towering over the armchair. He reached down, his strong fingers gently cupping my cheek. The contrast between his lethal reputation and the unbelievable tenderness of his touch sent a shiver straight down my spine.
"Let him try," Dominic growled softly. "New York is my kingdom. If Arthur Vance wants a war, I will give him a massacre. You don't have to run anymore, Genevieve. I am your shield now."
May you like
My heart hammered wildly in my chest. For eight long years, I had carried the burden of survival entirely on my own shoulders. I had trusted no one, loved no one, and let no one close.
Looking up into Dominic’s fierce, unwavering green eyes, I realized that the cold, terrifying mafia Don was the first man in eight years who made me feel truly safe.
