Chapter Eighteen
Dominic
The wheels of the private jet chirped against the tarmac of the private airfield in Atlanta sharp, grounding sound that signaled the end of the dream and the beginning of the reign.
I sat in the oversized leather seat; my fingers interlaced with Donny's.
She was leaning against my shoulder, her ginger curls a vibrant contrast to the black silk of my travel hoodie.
We both smelled like sea salt and expensive sunblock, but as the cabin door hissed open and the humid, heavy air of Georgia rolled in, the "vacation" version of Dominic Masters retreated, and the boss stepped back into his skin.
I stood up, stretching my frame out until my knuckles brushed the ceiling of the cabin. I looked down at my wife—my wife—and saw her taking a deep breath, her hand instinctively going to the emerald-eyed lioness pendant around her neck.
"You ready to show 'em how a queen walks, Donny Rae?" I asked, a slow smirk spreading across my face.
"As long as you're leading the way," she replied, her voice steadier than I'd ever heard it.
We stepped onto the stairs, and the reception waiting for us was exactly what I expected for the new heads of the family.
Four blacked-out SUVs were idling on the tarmac, a phalanx of men in black suits and tactical gear standing at attention.
At the center of it all was Taz, looking sharper than ever, his hand resting on the door of the lead Rover.
I led Donny down the steps, my hand firm on the small of her back. As our feet hit the pavement, every man on that tarmac bowed his head in a unified, silent show of respect. No one spoke or cheered. In this world, silence was the highest form of deference.
"Welcome home, boss," Taz stated, stepping forward. He looked at Donny and gave her a sharp, respectful nod. "Mrs. Masters. The estate is secure. Your father is waiting in the study, Dom. He says the 'cleanup' is complete."
"Good," I grunted, sliding into the back of the Rover and pulling Donny in beside me. "Let's get to the house. I'm tired of smelling jet fuel."
The drive through the city felt different.
Before the honeymoon, every street corner felt like a potential battlefield, every window tinted a possible threat.
But as we cruised through the heart of Atlanta, I saw the changes my father had hinted at.
The Vitti tags were gone, scrubbed from the brick walls, and replaced by clean, corporate murals or the subtle, silver 'M' that marked our legitimate holdings.
The streets felt quiet—not the quiet of fear, but the quiet of absolute control.
When we pulled through the gates of the estate, the sight brought a lump to my throat I wasn't prepared for.
The entire staff lined up at the front entrance, with Elena standing at the front, looking like the matriarch she was.
Beside her, Big Dom sat in a motorized chair, his oxygen tank tucked neatly behind him, an unlit cigar clutched between his teeth.
I hopped out of the car and reached back for Donny, swinging her down to the ground. We walked up the stone steps like we were ascending a throne.
"You look tan," Elena noted, pulling Donny into a fierce hug, "and you look like you finally found some peace, Dominic."
"I found a lot more than that, Ma," I replied, leaning down to kiss her cheek before turning to my father.
The old man looked me up and down, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of the "softness" he'd feared. He saw the sharp lines of my fade, the way I stood with my chest out, and the way I never let go of Donny's hand. He saw a man who had claimed his life, not a boy who was handed one.
"The office is ready," Big Dom rasped, nodding toward the house. "We got paperwork to sign, son. The 'gray' is becoming 'blue.' We're officially Masters Holdings now… legitimate, taxed, and untouchable."
"In a minute, Pop," I stated, turning back to the crew and the staff.
I raised my hand, silencing the small talk.
My voice carried across the lawn, deep and undeniable.
"Listen up! The honeymoon is over. We're moving into a new era.
My wife is the heart of this house, and my word is the law of this city.
If you breathed easily while I was gone, keep breathing that way as long as you stay loyal.
We're building something that's gonna last longer than all of us. "
I turned to Donny, pulling her into my side. "Welcome to your empire, baby."
? ? ?
Later that evening, after the bags were unpacked and the house had settled into its evening rhythm, I found Donny in our primary suite.
She was standing on the balcony, looking out over the trees, the emeralds in her necklace glowing in the twilight.
I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, feeling the solid, real weight of her against me.
"It feels different, doesn't it?" she whispered.
"It is different," I agreed, resting my chin on her shoulder. "We ain't running no more, Donny. We ain't hiding. We're the ones who decide who stays and who goes. You okay with that? Being the woman behind the man everyone's afraid of?"
She turned in my arms, her light brown eyes fierce and full of a fire that matched my own. She reached up, her fingers tracing the ink on my neck, her wedding ring catching the moonlight.
"I'm not behind you, Dominic," she firmly stated. "I'm right beside you. And if they're afraid of you, they better be terrified of me because I'll burn this city down myself before I let anyone touch what's ours."
I felt a surge of pride so strong it made my head spin. I picked her up, carrying her back into the room where our journey had truly begun. The "refined menace" was home, his queen was by his side, and the legacy was no longer a dream; it was a reality carved in stone and gold.
"I love you, Mrs. Masters," I murmured, kicking the balcony door shut.
"I love you more, boss," she whispered back.