Chapter 8 - The Price of Healing
Spring arrived in New York, bringing warm breezes that swept away the last lingering bitter cold of winter.
In the master suite of the Tribeca penthouse, the floor-to-ceiling glass windows were pushed wide open, letting in the soft sound of boats navigating the Hudson River and the fresh smell of spring rain.
The penthouse had been completely redesigned. The cold, sterile white marble and dark gray leather Dominic had favored for years had been replaced with warm velvet furniture, soft Persian rugs, radiant oil paintings, and light that filled every corner of the vast home.
Meline stood by the window, wearing a simple silk robe, looking out at the skyline.
Dominic stepped up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his broad chest. He buried his face into the soft crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet, familiar scent of jasmine and rain that was uniquely hers.
"You're thinking again," Dominic murmured, his lips tracing a path of soft kisses up her neck.
"I was thinking about the night of the storm," Meline admitted softly, resting her hands over his on her waist.
Dominic’s movements stilled for a second. Even now, six months later, the mention of that night made a shadow of guilt pass over his heart.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked quietly, his hand moving up to gently cover the pale scar on her right shoulder.
Meline turned around in his arms, framing his handsome face with both hands, looking into his deep, dark eyes.
"No, Dominic," she smiled softly, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "The scar doesn't hurt anymore. It just reminds me that we survived the worst thing we could ever do to each other."
Dominic looked at her with an intensity that made her breath catch. He leaned down, catching her mouth in a slow, sweet, incredibly tender kiss that tasted of absolute peace.
"I bought something yesterday," Dominic said, pulling back slightly, a rare, boyish nervous energy touching his expression.
Meline raised an eyebrow playfully. "Another property? Another shipping line?"
Dominic reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver key, placing it into her palm.
"It's a small villa in Como, Italy," Dominic said softly. "No guards. No syndicate meetings. No phones. Just three acres of olive trees, a view of the lake, and a boat."
Meline looked down at the silver key, her heart swelling with an emotion so powerful it brought warm tears to her eyes. "Just us?"
"Just us," Dominic promised, lifting her effortlessly into his arms, carrying her toward the grand velvet bed bathed in the warm afternoon sunlight. "For two months every summer. The city can run itself."
Meline threw her arms around his neck, laughing a bright, beautiful sound that filled the sunlit room with pure joy.
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"I love you, Dominic," she whispered as he laid her gently down onto the soft sheets.
"I love you, my Queen," Dominic swore, leaning down to kiss her with every ounce of passion in his soul. "More than my life. More than my crown. Forever."
