Chapter 2 - THE FORTRESS ON LAKE MICHIGAN
The black Maybach cut through the midnight rain, its tires hissing against the wet asphalt of Lake Shore Drive before turning through heavy wrought-iron gates that opened automatically into a sprawling, heavily guarded estate.
Sophie sat rigidly in the passenger seat of the rear cabin, her arms crossed over her chest. Across from her, Dominic sat with baby Leo sleeping soundly against his broad chest, a cashmere blanket draped over them both.
“You can’t just kidnap a waitress because she knows how to burp a baby,” Sophie said for the fourth time since they left the restaurant.
Dominic didn't look up from his son. “I didn't kidnap you. You’re being offered a position of employment. My previous nanny quit yesterday afternoon after Leo cried for four hours straight. You just proved you have better instincts than a medical professional with ten years of experience.”
“I’m a waitress, Mr. Moretti. I live in a cramped studio apartment in Pilsen, I take the CTA bus, and I have bills to pay. I don't work for mob bosses.”
Dominic finally raised his head. His dark eyes locked onto hers with a piercing intensity that made the air in the car feel heavy.
“First of all, I am a legitimate businessman with diversified global holdings,” Dominic said smoothly, though the slight curve of his lips suggested he knew the irony of his own words. “Second of all, I pay well. Extremely well. Name your price per week, and triple it.”
“It’s not about the money,” Sophie snapped, turning her face toward the tinted window as the car swept up to the grand entrance of a limestone mansion overlooking Lake Michigan.
The vehicle stopped. The doors opened instantly.
Before Sophie could protest further, she was escorted inside a cavernous, marble-floored foyer that looked more like an art museum than a home. High ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and armed guards stationed discreetly in the archways.
A terrified-looking middle-aged woman in a maid’s uniform hurried down the grand staircase, wringing her hands.
“Mr. Moretti! Thank goodness you’re back, I tried to prepare the formula—,” she began, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw Sophie standing beside him.
“Mrs. Gable,” Dominic instructed calmly, handing the sleeping infant over to the older woman with practiced care. “Take Leo upstairs to the master nursery. Warm up the organic goat milk formula, and prepare the suite next to mine for Miss Lane.”
“My suite?” Sophie protested. “I am not staying here! I’m going home!”
“Your home for the next month is right here,” Dominic said, stepping closer to her until she was forced to look up into his face. There was an absolute, unyielding command in his posture. “My enemies are watching, Sophie. You stepped into my circle tonight in a very public room. If rival factions think you have leverage over me—or worse, that you hold the key to calming my heir—you won't be safe walking out those gates alone.”
Sophie’s breath hitched. The reality of his world—a world of shadows, blood, and invisible wars—came crashing down around her.
“You brought me here to protect me?” she asked skeptically.
“I brought you here because my son needs you, and because I don't leave loose ends,” Dominic replied flatly, though the harshness in his tone softened just a fraction. “Stay for one week. Teach Mrs. Gable your techniques. If you still want to leave after seven days, I will personally drive you back to your apartment with an armed escort.”
May you like
Sophie looked around the opulent, terrifying mansion, then back at Dominic. Something in his eyes—a deep, lonely exhaustion that mirrored her own quiet grief—made her nod slowly.
“Fine,” Sophie whispered. “One week. Not a day more.”
