Chapter 19 #2
I find Helena near the counter preparing tea, while Keane stuffs toast into his mouth.
“Hi, Dominic!” Keane calls. Helena simply smiles.
I step inside, resting my hands on the island. “Good morning.”
"I need a breakfast tray prepared for the master suite. Something light for Rosalia,” I tell Helena.
Before Helena can answer, I glance at Keane. "Can you get the doctor back up to the house? I want Rosalia's ribs examined again."
Helena pauses, turning around with a soft sigh. "Dominic, the doctor said it’s not that serious. And I’ve seen it for myself. The graze is clean and she's resting fine—"
"I don't care!" I snap, my voice cutting through the kitchen like a whip, making her fall silent. "I want a doctor checking every inch of that wound to ensure there's zero infection. Call him. Now."
A tiny, familiar bark breaks the tension in the room.
I glance down to see Yapper trotting over to me, his tail wagging like a motor.
The sight instantly softens the edge in my chest. I crouch down on my haunches, ruffling the thick fur around his neck and letting him lick my knuckles while Helena quietly sets to work preparing the breakfast tray.
"Good boy," I murmur to the dog.
Ten minutes later, the breakfast tray is ready. I take it from Helena and carry it up the grand staircase.
When I push open the door to the master suite, expecting to find Rosalia still resting in bed, my jaw instantly locks. She's standing by the vanity, completely dressed in a soft, matching lounge set, her dark hair damp from a fresh shower.
I slam the door shut behind me, setting the tray down on the side table with a loud clack that vibrates the fine china.
"What the hell are you doing out of bed?!" I snap, crossing my arms over my chest as I glare at her. "Why didn't you wait for me to help you?! You’re injured," I add, my tone tight and rigid as I loom over her.
Rosalia simply rolls her eyes, completely unfazed by my dark glare, and walks right past me to the side table. "I have a tiny graze on my ribs, Dominic, not a broken spine. I'm not an invalid."
She sinks onto the edge of the bed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the hot spread. "Thank you for the tray, though. I was starving," she mutters softly, picking up a fork and immediately digging into the food.
Minutes later, a sharp knock sounds at the door, and Keane ushers the personal doctor into the suite.
Rosalia stops mid-chew, her fork hovering in the air as her jaw drops in sheer disbelief. "Are you serious? Dominic, I told you I am completely fine!"
"I insist," I say, stepping up to the foot of the bed with my arms folded firmly across my chest, leaving zero room for argument.
Helena steps into the doorway right behind the doctor, shaking her head with a weary sigh. "I told him you were fine too. He didn't listen to me either."
"The doctor is going to check the wound, clean it, and re-bandage it," I state plainly, ignoring both of them. "End of discussion."
I want to take care of her—I need to—but I have no idea how to offer soft comfort. I want to softly stroke her hair and ask how she feels; but I don’t know how.
Rosalia groans loudly, throwing her hands up in utter frustration as the doctor sets down his medical bag and makes her lie on the bed.
"You are infuriating," she mutters under her breath, glaring at me as the doctor gently begins examining her ribs.
She rolls her eyes again, letting out a dramatic sigh, but despite her endless complaints about my overbearing, dictatorial ways... she doesn't tell me to leave the room. She keeps her gaze locked on mine the entire time, letting me stay right by her side.
When the doctor finally finishes dressing the small graze, gathers his equipment, and steps out of the suite alongside Helena, the oak doors click softly shut behind them.
Rosalia looks up at me from the edge of the bed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you happy now?"
"Yes," I say plainly, completely unapologetic.
A quiet, helpless giggle escapes her lips, her eyes softening as she shakes her head. "You are so, so annoying, Dominic."
I don't reply right away. I step closer to the bed, looking down at her flushed face, feeling that strange, unfamiliar tug in my chest again. "Can I hold you?"
She blinks, slightly caught off guard by the pull in my voice, before nodding gently. "Yes."
I pull back the soft duvet and slide onto the mattress beside her, wrapping my arm around her waist with extreme care, pulling her back against my broad chest. My chin rests near her shoulder, her sweet shampoo scent filling my lungs as a quiet silence settles over the room.
After a few peaceful minutes, Rosalia turns her head slightly, her dark eyes finding mine. "So... what have you actually been up to with Judge Sterling?"
"Dante tried to buy him," I reveal quietly, my fingers tracing slow, steady circles into the fabric of her lounge top near her hip. "He offered him a fortune off the books to ensure you lose the will case."
Rosalia lets out a sharp, bitter scoff, staring straight ahead at the wall. She doesn't say a word, but I can feel the tense fury radiating through her frame.
“I got you, sweetheart. I'll make sure you get what’s yours.”
She nods without a word.
I keep holding her, keeping my touch steady until her breathing slows down, her shoulders relax, and the weight of exhaustion takes over. Within twenty minutes, she drifts off into a deep, peaceful sleep against my chest.
I lean in, pressing a brief, tender kiss to her warm forehead, and stare down at her quiet, sleeping face for a long moment before carefully slipping out of bed.
The screen of my phone lights up on the nightstand. It's a text from Keane: meet me in the study. We have it.
I quietly slip out of the master suite and head down the hallway to my office, pushing the doors open to find Keane waiting near the desk, holding a thick leather folder.
"The full dive on Judge Arthur Sterling," Keane says, sliding the file across the mahogany surface toward me.
"Offshore accounts, shell companies in the Caymans, and a very serious paper trail linking him directly to Dante's money men.
If this goes public, he loses his bench, his reputation, and his freedom. "
A dark, victorious smile touches my lips as I skim through the bank statements and signed wire transfers. "Perfect."
"I’ll go pay the judge a visit," I say, shutting the folder with a sharp thud. "We are very close to getting everything we need, Keane."
Keane studies my face, an unreadable expression settling over his features. He pauses, leaning his hands on the back of the leather armchair.
"After getting what you need, Dominic..." Keane asks softly, his voice heavy with a warning he rarely ever uses with me. "...will you be able to deal with the fallout?"
My heart skips a beat. I have no response.