Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
If I hadn’t woken to Dominic beside me, I would have sworn it was a dream.
Sunlight glows against the curtains, brushing rays of gold across the sheets and his bare back. His arm is draped over my waist. I watch him sleep. His lips are slightly parted and his chest rises and falls with his breathing.
I wish I could stop time and savor this moment forever.
I feel like I’m in a stolen fragment of another world, one where blood doesn’t stain loyalty and love doesn’t come with sharp edges.
A place where Dominic and I could be together, but that would never happen.
After all, he hates my world.
The weight of yesterday comes rushing back like a punch to the gut. Salvatore nearly assassinated, the intruder’s body lying on the dock, his last words, checkmate, echoing in my mind.
As I recall the scene, something doesn’t feel right. I just can’t put my finger on it.
My stomach rumbles, and I look over at Dominic.
I should be having another what-the-fuck-did-I-do moment. I should be cursing myself for giving into temptation, but instead all I want to do is snuggle in his arms and never get up.
My gaze rests on the top of his sweatpants peeking out from beneath the covers.
I chuckle.
He conveniently had an overnight bag stashed in the trunk of his car. He says it’s for when he has to go on last minute stakeouts.
How convenient.
I guess it’s time for my moment of bliss to come to an end. Breakfast is calling my name.
Moving back the covers, I attempt to slip out of bed. I don’t want to wake him. If one of us has to live this nightmare, it should be me. After all, Dominic always rode the straight and narrow path. He is a man of the law.
Before my feet can touch the floor, an arm snakes around my waist, pulling me back under the covers.
“Are you trying to sneak out on me?” he whispers in my ear. His voice is rough with sleep.
The tone makes my stomach flutter in ways it shouldn’t.
“How can I sneak out? It’s my house,” I joke. “I was going to make breakfast.”
He kisses the side of my head and rolls onto his back. “Then I guess we had better head to the kitchen and get the queen her breakfast.”
Throwing back the covers he gets out of bed. “I’ll make us something special.”
“I remember how much you liked to cook.” I adjust my pajama top and get up, wincing slightly.
“Yes, it’s my escape from reality.” Dominic stretches his arms over his head and walks to the vanity. “But first I’ll help you change your bandage.”
I sit up and remove my pajama top. Gently I pull off the old wrap.
Dominic comes over with a fresh bandage. His eyes turn stormy as he looks at the long gash running the length of my rib cage.
“Fuck! I would love nothing more than to find the bastard who did this to you and slice him the same way,” he mutters.
His gaze lingers at the skin squished together and held by thick threads.
“When I find out who did this to you, I’ll make sure they pay for marring your beautiful skin.”
“It comes with the territory,” I groan. “I’m just grateful to be alive.”
“I’m grateful you’re alive too, but I’m still going to kill them.”
“You?” I tease. “A man of the law threatening to kill someone.”
“I may be a man of the law but every rule has its limits. And what people don’t know works in my favor.” Dominic finishes wrapping the bandage. “You might be rubbing off on me.” He grins, then leaves me to get ready at my own pace.
My stomach flutters as I ponder his words. I’m rubbing off on Dominic? That seems impossible. But I can’t lie, his desire to defend my honor and make people pay turns me on. I’ve never seen this side of him and I like it.
Sliding out of bed, I pull on my pants. Each day I feel better and grow stronger, but the pain still lingers.
I glance out the window at Gigi’s house.
The curtains are drawn, but I see shadows moving behind them.
A smirk twists on my lips.
Gigi wasn’t the only one who got fucked last night.
I shouldn’t be thinking like this.
Maybe Elio isn’t the bad guy I think he is.
A part of me hopes that he isn’t part of these assassination attempts.
But if he is, he might as well start planning his funeral.
The clink of a metallic pan sounds downstairs as I head into the bathroom.
Taking my time, I brush my hair and wash my face, praying all this drama will go down the drain and disappear.
My empire is fracturing in my hands and Dominic is the only person who can help me put it back together.
As I pat my face dry with the towel, I catch sight of myself in the mirror.
Throwing the towel onto the vanity, I grip both edges of the sink with my hands.
I don’t like what I see staring back at me.
I know that I’m attractive, but it’s my eyes that scare me.
My gaze is sharper after all these years.
The innocence has been scraped away, layer by layer, year by year.
Now it’s replaced by coldness and a lack of emotion.
Time as the mafia queen has hardened me and I don’t know if I’ll ever find peace.
I miss the person I used to be before I became queen.
I think sometimes I’m jealous of Gigi.
She doesn’t have the pressures that I do.
But no matter what, I must remain queen.
I don’t wish this burden or responsibility on anyone I love.
I must carry this crown.
Grumbling, I throw the towel into the laundry basket and head downstairs.
The scent of toast hits me as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Pausing in the doorway, I see Dominic shirtless in front of the stove while French toast sizzles in the pan. His back is taut, muscles shifting beneath olive skin. He looks so handsome, and it makes my heart skip a beat.
The radio hums low and I feel like we’re playing house.
“I forgot how much I like watching you cook,” I announce as I sit down at the table in the breakfast nook.
“Really? I didn’t know you liked watching,” he replies without turning.
“It all depends on the view.”
He glances over his shoulder. A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are you flirting with me, Queen Capuano?”
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” I grab the coffee pot and pour the brown liquid into my cup.
Dominic chuckles and places a plate in front of me. “I made your favorite, French toast.”
“Thank you.” I look down at the stack.
The thick slices of bread are golden brown and crisp at the edges. A dusting of powdered sugar clings to the top like the first kiss of snow, while warm maple syrup trickles down the side like slow amber rivers.
Picking up the fork, I cut through the center filled with cinnamon and vanilla. Each bite melts on my tongue.
I should be happy. A hot shirtless man making me breakfast, what more could a girl ask for?
However, the thought of my sister possibly fucking the twerp who tried to kill me makes me bitter.
“He’s still over there with her,” I mutter between bites.
Dominic sits down next to me with a huge pile of French toast in front of him. “Who?”
“Elio is still at Gigi’s house.”
“Maybe they were enjoying a quiet evening at home like us.” Dominic digs his fork into the toast.
“Elio might be a murderer, you’re not.” I shovel more toast into my mouth. “This is so good.”
“Like I said before, he checked out clean, Cipi. My team ran his name through multiple databases, and so did I. He has no connections to any rival families, no flags on his finances, no problems with the law, nothing, not even a damn parking ticket.”
“Like he doesn’t even exist,” I mumble between mouthfuls. “Gigi is just too trusting. People like her get devoured in this world. They’ve only been on a few dates, and already they’re wrestling naked in bed.”
He studies me for a moment. “Maybe she still believes people are good. Not everyone walks around anticipating betrayal.”
I take another bite of French toast.
“You know she’s still young, Cipi. There’s about ten years between the two of you.”
“She reminds me of myself,” I add quietly.
Dominic tilts his head, “You?”
“Yes. Before, when I was young and thought I could love without consequences.”
He leans forward and locks eyes with me. “You’re still young and you still can love.” He squeezes my hand. “After breakfast, I’m going to head over to Rachel’s apartment and have a little chat.”
“I’m coming too.”
“I knew you would say that. My team found her address. She lives in a very fancy high rise on the west side of town. Very fancy. There is no way she can afford it on a secretary salary.”
We finish eating, then shower and change.
Dominic has more clothes in his overnight bag and comes out in black slacks, navy shirt, and a charcoal coat.
I decide on black pants, a burgundy sweater, and my beige fur coat.
We head into the garage to the Maserati. Dominic opens the door for me and I slide in.
I open the garage door and as Dominic backs his sedan out, I glance at Gigi’s house through the side mirror. I wonder if they are making breakfast, laughing and joking. To be young and carefree. I envy her for a second.
“I just think she deserves better,” I mumble.
Dominic drives through the gates of the compound. “So do you. Don’t ever sell yourself short, Cipriani Capuano. You’re striking fear into the hearts of mob men and looking good while doing it.”