10. Dominic #2
“I hope you didn’t bring some flighty little woman into your mother’s house.”
My fist clenches. We’ve never gotten physical, but he’s pushed me to the edge more times than I can count. It doesn’t take much effort for him to drag out the worst in me.
“If you say one disrespectful word about Lena, or even think something disgusting with that twisted mind of yours, you’ll regret it.”
“I don’t care about your threats. I care about not upsetting your mother. She wants to see you settle down. Though God knows what kind of woman would agree to marry someone as shameless as you.”
To a man like my father, conservative, elitist, my social life has always been a disgrace.
But the income I’ve brought in since I took over the business?
That’s what’s kept his mouth shut. He believes in two things: money and power.
His only weakness is my mother, the one person he’d give his life for.
“Just so we’re clear, Lena’s a journalist with Beacon National News, the top media group in the country. She works on investigations. But even if she didn’t, her integrity and kindness already put her leagues above you.”
“If you’re the one judging her integrity, that tells me everything I need to know. I’m guessing those long legs helped you reach that conclusion.”
The door swings open. Violetta walks in.
“You two are yelling loud enough to be heard down the hall. What the hell’s going on? It’s Sunday. We have guests.”
The second I see her, everything else fades. I meet her eyes, just briefly, then step toward her, gently taking her by the shoulders and steering her away from him. The fight’s over. This matters more.
“What did Mom’s tests say?” I ask under my breath. “Why does she think she’s heading down the same path as Grandma?”
“She told you too?” my father says behind us, sounding genuinely surprised.
I don’t turn around. I don’t respond. He’s irrelevant right now. Violetta sighs—speaking to both of us, but I know she’s really talking to me.
“I explained it to her. So did the other doctors. Grandma’s condition wasn’t genetic. It would take a specific combination of markers for Mom to be at risk, and she doesn’t have them. But she won’t let it go. She’s convinced it’s happening. It’s starting to border on hypochondria.”
Her voice tightens. “We’re still early in the process. She needs more testing. It could be trauma from losing Axel, or maybe something else affecting memory and cognition. We don’t know yet.”
She pauses. When she continues, her voice drops. “But the moments when she asks when Axel’s coming back... those are the ones that scare me.”
My father shoves his hands into his pockets. His jaw shifts slightly. A twitch, like something cracked under the surface.
Violetta touches my arm. “I’ll keep you posted, Dom. We should know more soon.”
A short silence hangs between us. Then his voice slices through it, harder this time.
“In the meantime, try not to upset her with your usual bullshit,” he snaps. “Marry a real woman. Carry our name forward.”
“I like Lena,” Violetta chimes in, ignoring the fight completely. She’s used to this by now. Years of conflict have made it background noise to her.
My father heads for the door, but I step in front of him.
“Watch what you say at the table. Mom means the world to me, but I won’t tolerate you insulting my fiancée. We came for her, not for you. So you’ll sit down, stay quiet, and swallow whatever you were about to spit out.”
“Or what?” he shoots back, smug.
“Push me, and I’ll invoke Grandfather’s clause. Leave you with your roses and your goddamn garden.”
His eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare. You’ve never had the guts for something like that. You’re soft. Always have been. A puppet for women.”
I’ve taken a lot from him over the years. That one cuts deeper than usual. I’m ready to react this time, but the door swings open hard. My mother walks in fast, and I can tell she’s beyond angry.
“Listen up, you two. I like Lena. She’s joining this family. Don’t you dare ruin this day for me. Now let’s go, our guests are alone on the terrace.”
She steps aside and gestures toward the hallway.
My father walks out first, clearing his throat.
As he passes her, he leans in, kisses her forehead, and murmurs something, hopefully an apology.
Violetta strolls out like nothing happened.
Mom loops her arm through mine. “I meant it. I do like her. She’s got fire.
She might actually survive this family. Though I bet she has no idea what she’s getting into.
Let’s try not to scare her off just yet, shall we? ”
The moment we sit down at the table, I feel my father’s fake smile. There’s tension humming behind it. He looks at Lena with suspicion, barely disguising his real agenda. Exactly as expected, he starts in.
“I take it you enjoy Dominic’s public escapades, Lena. As a journalist, I’m sure you understand how tabloids work. It’s still media, after all. Just like you, right? It must be... interesting to be on the other side of the gossip columns.”
I tense, ready to jump in and defend her. But Lena slides her hand under the table and squeezes my knee. She smiles coolly and answers smoothly.
“I do a different kind of journalism. Investigative. Social reporting. Tabloids thrive on one thing: the idea that gossip is dopamine. I’ve interviewed and investigated both politicians and billionaires.
And I’ve learned to spot rudeness dressed up as charm, and power plays disguised as polite conversation. ”
My father freezes, fork halfway to his mouth. Violetta, seated beside him, slowly pours water into his glass, way too theatrically. Pride surges in my chest as the silence stretches at the table. Then, like nothing happened, my mother turns to Gabriel.
“What if the four of you got married at the same time?”
Gabriel chokes on his drink, looking at Lexi. Lexi glances at Lena. Lena looks at me.
“Mom,” I say, “I think every bride deserves to have her moment. Just hers.”
“He’s right, Felicia,” my father cuts in, recovered now. “Dominic knows all about how to make a woman feel special. He’s an expert.”
I know what he’s doing. Since I told him to keep Lena out of it, he’s turned his fire on me instead. He leans back in his chair at the head of the table.
“Dominic’s always been idealistic. Impulsive. That’s just who he is. I hope you’ve figured that out, Lena, assuming you two had time for any meaningful conversation.”
I slam my napkin down, but Lena presses a steady hand against my thigh, grounding me. Her voice is calm, but charged.
“Dominic’s impulsive when the people around him need help. He’s generous—so generous that it’s earned him the loyalty of everyone who works with him. He’s an incredible host in this city, and I know that because I’ve seen this city in ways you never could, from outside the safety of this house.”
She pauses, just long enough to let it land. “That’s not a criticism. Just an observation. Journalists see all sides of humanity. And cruelty and ignorance don’t only live at poor tables.”
Her voice slips, just barely. She takes a slow sip of water, buying herself a second to breathe.
Unfortunately, my father isn’t done.
“Dominic’s generosity,” he says, still skeptical, “makes it easy for people to take advantage of him.”
Fucking bastard.
Lena doesn’t even blink. She stays calm, like this kind of conversation is familiar ground. Like she’s dealt with men like him before, and knows exactly how to disarm them.
“Dominic sees generosity differently. He knows how lucky he is and chooses kindness. That’s why people respect him—not because he’s easy to use.”
Her voice is calm, unwavering. Her eyes stay locked on my father’s. Then she turns to me and meets my gaze.
“That’s what made me fall for him.”
My brain stalls. I probably look like a complete idiot. My mother beams. Absolutely glowing.
“That’s such a wonderful way to put it, Lena.”
My father opens his mouth to snap back, but Lena lifts her hand, calm and gentle. And somehow… he stops.
“It’s usually family,” she says softly, “who are best at manipulating and using the kindest among them. Not strangers.”
Silence. A sharp clatter of silverware on porcelain. God, I love this woman.
“I’m getting the tart,” Violetta mutters, cutting through the tension as she heads to the kitchen. “We could all use something sweet.”
Then Mom rises from her seat and, without hesitation, reaches for Lena’s hand. “You and I are having coffee in my private room, dear,” she says with calm authority. “Violetta, bring us two slices, please.”
And just like that, she leads Lena away, hand in hand, like it’s the most natural thing in the world and they’ve known each other forever. Lena glances back at me as she walks. There’s a smile in her eyes, quiet, but strong.
Where does she get that kind of courage?
My father turns and heads toward the library. He nods briefly, only to Gabriel. He doesn’t even glance at me.
I look at Gabriel. “This whole thing calls for a cigar. Don’t you think?”
***
An hour later, Mom disappears for her afternoon rest. Dad stays out of sight. No more drama, no surprises, no explosions. No visible bruises. Around here, that counts as a win. Just quiet, and that subtle sense that the performance is finally over.
Gabriel and Lexi offer to drop Violetta off at the hospital.
As soon as Lena gets into the car and slams the door, she bursts out, “My dear husband, you could’ve warned me I’d be ruthlessly attacked by your father.”
“Sorry. He hasn’t gone that hard on me since he turned seventy.”
“What does his age have to do with anything?”
“There’s a clause in my grandfather’s will.
Once my dad turned seventy, his successor could officially challenge him and request his retirement.
The successor would get a trial period to prove they could run the business.
He’s seventy-two now. I’ve nearly doubled the family’s wealth since I took over.
Legally, I could keep him out of the business completely. ”
“That clause is... kind of weird. And unfair.”
“Grandfather wanted someone strong at the helm, always. And anyway, it stays in the family. You raise your kids a certain way, and you live with the results. My dad earned his fate. He was a lousy father to me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“That’s a story for another night. When you’re willing to sleep next to me in that amazing bed, I’ll tell you all the dark family secrets.”
I change the subject, hoping to shift the mood. This woman threw me off today, and I didn’t even see it happening. Beneath all the sarcasm, I’m only now starting to realize how deeply she gets me.
I thought I had her figured out. I didn’t. How did I miss that? Idiot.
I should’ve noticed sooner her loyalty, her protectiveness. Maybe... maybe there was even a little affection in the way she defended me. There’s hope for me yet. And the things she said at the table about falling for me, yeah, I heard that. Loud and clear.
As we pull out through the gates and onto the main road back to the city, all I can think about is taking her straight to bed and showing her exactly what it means to be Mrs. Monti.
But I can’t. Right now, all I get is her voice.
Her presence. That calm way of cutting through chaos like she owns the room.
And somehow, that only makes me want her more.
“That thing you said at the table,” I murmur. “The part about... uh… falling for me. Where did that come from?”
She doesn’t look at me right away. Just stares out the window. Then, softly—“Performance. I promised you I’d play my part.”
She did warn me she’d play it well. Still, something in me doesn’t quite believe her. Not entirely. I still have to play by my rules. But for now, we’re both worn out. Like after a battle. And the most important thing? Mom’s happy.
“It worked. You won Mom over. By the way, what did you two talk about for so long in her private room?”
Lena stares out the windshield, but I catch the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“She talked about you. A lot, actually. Like she was trying to convince me how special you are. She showed me a whole album of photos, only of you. So, so many naked photos of you. Naked baby, naked toddler…”
Ah! The sarcasm’s back. That’s a good sign.
“Well, if the baby nudes didn’t win you over, I’m happy to offer an updated portfolio.”
“You have nude photos of yourself?”
“Of course not. But I do have an apartment where I can pose live. Just for you.”
Lena laughs—a full, relaxed laugh—then goes quiet again, thoughtful.
When I pull into the private hotel lot, she doesn’t move to get out. Instead, she turns toward me.
“Dominic, I think we should have a civil ceremony in secret. Just us, and the friends who already know the truth. I don’t think I can survive another encounter with your family anytime soon.”
I nod slowly, glancing over at her. “Do you see now why I didn’t want to leave your parents’ place? Why it felt like the only place I could breathe?”
She softens, then lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah. But if you ever act up again, I’m unleashing Aunt Eunice on you.”
“You... wouldn’t.”
“Don’t test me, husband. ”
We breathe easier. The plan is still on track. We’ve made it this far. We’re getting married. In secret.