Chapter 4 - The Confrontation in the Snow
Maddie forced her chin up, fighting against the suffocating panic rising in her throat. She wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach, pressing her oversized coat tightly against her frame.
“Stay away from me, Dominic,” she whispered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound brave. “The engagement... the press releases... you have Serafina. You have your empire. Let me go.”
Dominic’s dark eyes flashed with a dangerous, obsidian spark. He took another step closer, invading her personal space entirely.
“Serafina is a business arrangement negotiated by old men who want to secure shipping corridors,” Dominic said, his voice dropping to a harsh, gravelly whisper. “An alliance on paper. Nothing more.”
“You told her I would be dealt with quietly,” Maddie spat, the memory of that terrible afternoon in the Loop tower cutting through her fear like glass. “I heard you, Dominic. You were going to dispose of me to keep your hands clean for your precious syndicate marriage.”
For a fraction of a second, a flash of genuine shock crossed Dominic’s chiseled features, quickly replaced by a dark, intense realization.
“You were outside my office,” he stated, not a question. It all clicked into place in his sharp, calculating mind. “You heard the conversation with DeLuca.”
“I heard enough to know what a civilian means to a Valente,” Maddie retorted, hot tears of long-suppressed fury finally spilling over her lashes. “We’re collateral. We’re toys to be discarded when you need to merge your bloodlines with royalty!”
Dominic reached out, his warm, calloused fingers wrapping firmly around her wrist before she could pull away. His grip wasn't brutal, but it was inescapable—the grip of a man accustomed to holding absolute power. He didn't let go; instead, he slowly, deliberately slid her hand downward, pressing her palm flat against the solid wall of his chest.
Beneath his fine wool coat and silk shirt, his heart was hammering at a frantic, unnatural speed—matching her own.
“When I told DeLuca that you would be dealt with quietly,” Dominic murmured, his face inches from hers, his dark gaze burning into her soul, “it wasn't because I was going to kill you, tesoro. It was because I had already ordered my personal security detail to extract you from Chicago and hide you away in a secure safehouse in Zurich until I could legally and permanently sever my ties to the DeLuca family without putting a target on your back.”
Maddie stopped breathing. The ground seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
“What... what did you say?” she breathed.
“You think I would let you go?” Dominic laughed softly, a dark, humorless sound. “You think I spent two years tearing down my walls for anyone else, only to hand you over to my enemies? The moment you walked out of my office that day, my men searched the entire building for you. By the time I realized you had fled the city, I had half my syndicate scouring the country.”
He stepped even closer, his free hand rising slowly to cup her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear. The tenderness in his touch contrasted violently with the dangerous aura of the mafia boss he truly was.
“And then,” Dominic continued, his voice softening into something raw and desperate, “my private physician in Wicker Park reported an anonymous medical inquiry matching your birthday. An ultrasound.”
Maddie’s breath hitched. She tried to step back, but Dominic’s arm banded around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
His dark eyes dropped instinctively to her midsection, lingering on the subtle, careful way she had been guarding herself all evening.
“You’re carrying my child,” Dominic whispered, the words sounding less like an accusation and more like a sacred vow. “And you tried to burn the evidence and run into the snow.”
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“I wouldn't let you raise a child in that world of blood and bullets,” Maddie cried softly, her defenses finally crumbling completely. “I won't have my baby traded for shipping lanes!”
“Then we burn the empire to the ground,” Dominic replied without a single second of hesitation.
