Chapter 2 - The Golden Leash and the Scent of Gunpowder
Consciousness returned to me in waves of unbearable agony and the steady beep of an intravenous pump.
Every breath felt as if someone was twisting broken glass through my chest and ribs.
When my eyelashes fluttered open, the sterile room was guarded by two hulking men with visible sidearms.
Sitting in a leather armchair beside my bed was Dominic Rossi, looking immaculate, lethal, and completely exhausted.
His dark eyes tracked my minimal movement with the intensity of a hawk watching prey.
You died twice on the operating table, little waitress, he said without a trace of pity in his tone.
I tried to speak, but my throat was parched and raw from the intubation tube they had pulled hours before.
He pressed a cup of ice chips to my cracked lips, his touch surprisingly steady despite his reputation for cruelty.
I looked down at my hand resting against the white sheet and noticed the brilliant gold band.
What did you put on my finger, I croaked, panic overcoming the haze of pain medication.
Dominic leaned back, folding his long legs, his expression completely unreadable in the dim hospital light.
That ring is the only reason Victor Costa’s assassins have not smothered you with a pillow already.
He explained that Victor Costa was the undisputed king of the northern docks and a sworn rival to the Rossi empire.
Because I had tackled his mother, Costa considered me an active combatant who had humiliated his family name.
A lone waitress who interfered in mafia business was an easy loose end to be buried in the river.
A Rossi wife, however, was an untouchable sovereign whose murder would trigger an all-out war across the five boroughs.
You married an unconscious stranger without my consent, I whispered, tears of helpless fury burning my eyes.
Dominic showed no remorse as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bedrail.
I bought your life, Clara, and in exchange, I gave you my protection and my name.
He dropped an envelope on my lap containing a receipt confirming full payment for my mother’s private clinic in Cleveland.
Every surgeon, every specialty nurse, and every experimental heart medication was covered for the next three years.
My breath hitched because that money was something I could not have earned in three lifetimes of catering shifts.
You are playing god with my family, I said, gripping the edge of the blanket with trembling knuckles.
I am keeping you both breathing, which is more than your father ever managed to do, Dominic replied coldly.
The mention of my father, a man who had vanished when I was barely a child, sent a chill down my spine.
Before I could demand an explanation, the door swung open and Isabella Rossi entered with tears in her eyes.
She brushed her son aside and wrapped her soft, warm hands around my uninjured palm.
Forgive my son’s lack of manners, Clara, but believe me when I say we will never abandon you.
Isabella stroked my hair, calling me her guardian angel and promising that no harm would ever reach my door.
Dominic watched us from the corner, his eyes darkened by a secret that hung heavily between us.
His loyal soldier Enzo appeared at the threshold, whispering urgently into his boss's ear.
Costa’s scouts had just been spotted in the hospital parking garage, armed and waiting for a vulnerability.
Dominic’s jaw ticked as he buttoned his jacket and pulled a concealed automatic weapon from under his lapel.
May you like
Pack her up immediately, Dominic ordered the private medical team standing by in the hallway.
We are moving my wife to the estate tonight, and anyone who stands in our path will be erased from the census.
