SEVEN BULLETS WERE STILL LODGED INSIDE MY BODY WHEN NEW YORK’S MOST FEARED CRIME BOSS SLIPPED A GOLD RING ONTO MY SWOLLEN FINGER WHILE I LAY UNCONSCIOUS IN SURGERY—BUT WHY HAD DOMINIC ROSSI DECIDED TO MARRY A WAITRESS HE BARELY KNEW? / Chapter 15 / 20

Chapter 15 - The Unbroken VowThe flight back to the Westchester estate was quiet, peaceful, and filled with a strange, profound stillness.

When we walked through the grand front doors of the mansion, Isabella was waiting in the foyer with a bottle of vintage champagne and three crystal flutes.

“To the end of the storm,” Isabella announced, pouring the sparkling golden liquid into each glass.

We raised our glasses together. The toast wasn't just to victory; it was to survival, to adaptation, and to the strange, unbreakable bonds forged in the fires of the underworld.

Later that night, long after Isabella had retired to her quarters and the estate had settled into silence, I stood alone on the private stone balcony of the master suite.

The cool night air brushed against my face, carrying the scent of pine and distant rain. The heavy gold band on my finger caught the moonlight, gleaming with quiet permanence.

Footsteps sounded softly behind me. Dominic stepped out onto the balcony, holding two cups of black coffee. He handed one to me without a word, standing beside me at the iron railing, looking out over the dark Hudson River.

“Costa is being transferred to a maximum-security federal black site tonight,” Dominic said quietly. “He will never see the light of day again.”

I took a slow sip of the coffee, feeling its warmth spread through my chest. I turned my head to look at him—the man who had stalked my movements, trapped me in a shotgun wedding, and yet stood as an impenetrable wall between me and a shallow grave.

“You knew everything from the beginning, didn't you?” I asked softly. “You knew Costa was coming for the family, and you used my mother’s debt to pull me into your orbit.”

Dominic didn't look away. His slate-gray eyes met mine, steady and unapologetic.

“I engineered the circumstances that brought you close, Elena,” Dominic confessed, his voice dangerously honest. “I saw a survivor drowning in a broken system, and I pulled her into my world because I knew she was strong enough to rule it beside me.”

He reached out, his warm fingers gently tracing the gold band on my finger.

“I didn't marry you just to use you as a shield,” Dominic murmured, his voice dropping into a low, intimate register that made my breath catch. “I married you because the moment I saw you stand in that hotel ballroom, I knew I would burn this entire city to the ground before I ever let anyone take you from me.”

I searched his face—the hard lines, the ruthless intelligence, and the fierce, undeniable devotion burning in his eyes.

The waitress from Queens was gone. In her place stood the Queen of the Rossi empire.