Chapter 6 - The Wall Between Us
The morning following the attack brought a harsh, freezing cold to Long Island—and a wall of ice between Dominic and Beatrice.
Guilt is a toxic venom for a man built on control. Dominic woke up at dawn, staring at the ceiling of his master bedroom, his heart pounding with cold terror. He had kissed her. He had touched her. He had brought her into the crosshairs of his violent life.
His mind replayed the day his first wife died—the twisted metal of the car, the fire, the sheer helplessness of loving someone in a world where enemies used love as a target.
I am going to get her killed, Dominic thought, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth hurt. If Moretti knows what she means to me, they will tear her apart to reach me.
When Beatrice came downstairs at seven, expecting to see the man who had held her so fiercely in the dark, she was met with a wall of stone.
Dominic was sitting at the dining table, surrounded by four dark-suited enforcers and piles of tactical maps. He didn't look up when she entered.
"Good morning, Mr. Russo," Beatrice said quietly, her heart sinking into her stomach.
"Beatrice," Dominic said, his voice flat, emotionless, and colder than the winter rain outside. He didn't use 'Bee.' He didn't look at her face. "Starting today, Leo will be doing his schoolwork in the eastern wing basement suite. It has no windows."
Beatrice blinked, hurt radiating through her chest. "Dominic... about last night—"
"Last night was a mistake brought on by high adrenaline and stress," Dominic interrupted coldly, finally looking up. His eyes were dead, devoid of the warmth and hunger that had burned in them hours ago. "It won't happen again. You are here to take care of my son. Let's keep our boundaries clear."
The words felt like a physical slap across her face. Beatrice stumbled back a half-step, her throat tightening so violently she couldn't breathe.
"Of course," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "My apologies, Mr. Russo."
She turned and retreated quickly down the hallway, tears blurring her vision. She ran to her small bathroom off the kitchen, leaning against the sink as heavy, quiet sobs wracked her body. She looked in the mirror, hating the soft curves of her body, hating her own naivety.
Of course, she thought, wiping her eyes furiously. You were just a temporary distraction. A soft place for a dangerous man to land for five minutes. How could you ever think someone like him could truly want someone like you?
For three days, the cold silence persisted. Dominic avoided the kitchen entirely. He ordered his meals in his study. He spoke to Beatrice only through Marco or via curt text messages regarding Leo’s schedule.
Beatrice packed her bags quietly at night. She decided that as soon as the security situation stabilized, she would submit her resignation. She couldn't bear to stay in a house where her heart was broken every time she heard a footstep on the stairs.
What neither of them realized was that the cold distance came too late.
May you like
Mateo Moretti, the ruthless boss of the rival syndicate, had already received surveillance photographs taken outside the Plaza Hotel. Photos of Dominic Russo holding a curvy, dark-haired woman against his side with fierce, protective eyes. Photos of Dominic threatening a guest who looked at her wrong.
In the brutal chess game of the underworld, Mateo Moretti had just found Dominic Russo’s king.
