Chapter 6 - Unmasking the Snake
The kiss was hot, fierce, and utterly unyielding.
It was filled with the dark, pent-up tension of the last four days—the fear, the violence, the unsaid words hanging between us in the quiet corridors of the mansion. Dominic’s hands slid up my back, pulling me so flush against his hard body that I couldn't tell where my heartbeat ended and his began.
I let out a soft gasp against his mouth, my fingers tangling in his dark, thick hair, burying myself in his warmth. He groaned softly, his tongue sliding past my lips, tasting of sweet bourbon and pure fire.
When he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, both of us were breathing heavily in the dim light of the foyer.
“You’re dangerous to me, Nurse Hayes,” Dominic rasped, his eyes dark with a wild, fierce light.
“You’re the one holding the gun, Mr. Rossi,” I whispered back, my cheeks burning, my heart racing out of control.
Before he could answer, a loud crash echoed from the rear of the mansion—the sound of shattering glass followed by a dull gun report.
Dominic instantly shoved me behind his back, his 9mm drawn and leveled toward the dark corridor leading to his private offices before I could even blink.
“Leo!” Dominic shouted.
Silence answered.
Dominic moved with terrifying speed and silence, keeping me tucked behind his left side as he navigated the dark hallway. We reached the door of his private office. The heavy lock had been blown open, smoke lingering in the air.
Dominic kicked the door open, his gun ready.
Inside, the floor was covered in shattered glass from the rear patio door. Sitting tied to a wooden chair in the corner was Leo, a heavy bruise forming over his left eye, blood dripping from his lip.
Standing over Dominic’s open safe was Marco.
In Marco’s hands were the master ledgers—the documents detailing the entire financial network of the Rossi family, including the offshore accounts and the names of corrupt city officials.
Dominic stopped in the doorway, his gun pointed straight at his cousin’s chest.
“Marco,” Dominic said, his voice dropping into a tone so quiet, so flat, that it was far more terrifying than a scream. “What are you doing?”
Marco whirled around, clutching the ledgers against his chest. His face was slick with sweat, his eyes wide and unhinged.
“He offered me five million, Dominic!” Marco yelled, his voice echoing in the small room. “Don Moretti offered me five million dollars and control of the northern docks if I brought him these ledgers and confirmed you were dead!”
Dominic didn't flinch. “You leaked my location at the docks last week. You’re the reason I took a bullet in the shoulder.”
“You were getting soft!” Marco shouted, tears of rage springing to his eyes. “You’ve been soft for two years! Talking about legitimate shipping, buying legal real estate, playing by the rules! And then you bring this... this nurse into the house! You’re weak, Dominic!”
“I was recovering, Marco,” Dominic said coldly. “And I was waiting to see how far you would push before you hung yourself.”
Marco’s eyes flicked to me, standing right behind Dominic’s shoulder. A ugly, vicious smirk crossed his sweaty face.
“If I’m going down, cousin,” Marco sneered, suddenly pulling a small snub-nosed revolver from his jacket pocket and aiming it directly at my chest, “I’m taking your little distraction with me.”
“NO!” Dominic roared.
Everything happened in a heartbeat.
Dominic didn't just fire his gun—he threw his entire body in front of me, taking the force of Marco’s bullet directly against his left arm as his own gun went off twice.
BANG! BANG!
Marco froze. A red circle bloomed in the center of his chest, followed by another in his throat. The revolver slipped from his lifeless fingers, and he collapsed heavily onto the glass-littered floor, dead before he hit the ground.
Dominic stumbled back, grunting in pain, hitting the wall beside me.
“Dominic!” I screamed, catching him beneath his shoulders as his knees buckled.
Fresh, crimson blood was already soaking through the sleeve of his black silk shirt, pooling onto the floorboards.
“I’m... fine,” Dominic grunted through gritted teeth, his head dropping against my shoulder. “Just... bad luck with bullets this week.”
“You idiot!” I sobbed, tears finally breaking through my composure as I helped him slide down against the wall. “You threw yourself in front of me!”
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Dominic looked up at me through bloodshot eyes, his hand reaching out to touch my wet cheek, leaving a smear of red against my skin.
“Nobody touches you, Nora,” Dominic whispered fiercely, his grip tight despite his bleeding arm. “Nobody.”
